All fight is suddenly drained out of me and I slump back against the wall of his hard warm chest. My head falls on the curve of his shoulder.

I'm exhausted. The emotional roller coaster this morning is draining. That was the first time I ever talked about Freyja with anyone and now I'm feeling raw and exposed.

"You really don't care that I'm a monster?" I ask him. My voice comes out sounding hesitant, unsure, and vulnerable and that's totally new and genuine.

I was unscrupulous and uncaring after Freyja. But he reminds me how to feel right from the first moment we met.

"I don't care. No matter what, you're mine and as I said before, I'm not letting you go." His arms around me are tight and possessive. "And you're not a monster."

The way he said those words...full of conviction. Like he truly believes them. There's an unusual warmth in my chest that causes my throat to tighten and my tears threatening to fall.

"And no, you wouldn't have to hide the knives," I mutter, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from falling.

"Huh?"

"I wouldn't need the knives. I'd have smothered you in your sleep with a pillow."

The noise that he makes at the back of his throat sounds like a cross between a chuckle and a groan. "Princess," he groans against the back of my head, then he sighs and relaxes against me with his clean-shaven cheek resting against my temple.

We sit in content and companionable silence for a few seconds before his body tightens as though a thought occurs to him. He then spears his longs fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck to grip it firm enough to guide my face up to his. "Would you really? Would you smother me with a pillow if you had the chance?" He's watching me with glittering eyes but he seems more amused than genuinely curious.

"No, of course not," I reply, with a frown. "You're bigger and stronger than I am, I wouldn't be able to hold you down for long."

"Is that the only reason?"

I blink and lower my eyes from the intensity of his watchful gaze. That's not the only reason but I don't want to examine the other reasons right now.

"I'm tired," I tell him.

He let his head fall to rest against mine as though he's disappointed with my response and I feel his deep inhale and exhale of breath through the rise and fall of his chest. He brushes a light kiss on my temple before he says, "Alright, let's get you to bed."

"You don't have to carry me," I tell him when he lifts me up. "I can walk," I say, but he ignores my protest and carries me a few feet to the bed. Then he lays me down before he stands beside the bed to take off my shoes and roll off my socks. After that, he sits at the edge of the bed to take his own shoes and socks off.

"You don't have to lie down with me," I tell him before he climbs into bed to lie down next to me. It's barely noon and today is Monday, he must have other things to do. He's a busy man, he works on Saturdays for goodness sake!

"I don't have to, but I want to," he says, reaching out to tuck me into him. "Now go to sleep," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on top of my head.

I close my eyes, inhaling the smell of his cologne and natural addictive male scent. His warmth is enveloping me, the beating of his heart is steady in my ear and I've never felt safer.

I'm tired but my mind can't rest. A few minutes later, I open my eyes. "Did you really mean it when you said that you loved me?"

He lets out a deep sigh and removes his arms from around me to lie on his back with his hands laced together behind his head. He's staring at the ceiling when he breathes out, "Yes."

"Is it because of the curse?"

There's a long pause. I feel his reluctance to answer this question, as reluctant he was about answering the one before. I sense his unease. He didn't mean for me to know about the curse or his feelings for me.

"No, Danica, the love isn't the curse," he explains patiently. "The curse is that when the Gauthier men fall, we fall deeply and it could happen only once."

"How could you fall for someone you don't even know? And how do you know that you've fallen for someone?"

"You just do and you just know," he says. "It's like being struck by lightning."

I let out a long breath as I glance up at him. He's now looking at me too. Was that how it felt like for him? I'm tempted to ask but I bite my lip and force the question down.

"What an irony," I muse half to myself instead. Nephilims have the power to control the weather and they wield lightning as a weapon against demons.

"Isn't it?" he says, chuckling under his breath. "The idea of us being struck by love like a bolt of lightning, straight to the very core of our being. Not to mention that it leaves an eternal mark. It's almost like having our ultimate weapon used against us."

I roll to lie on my side and place my hands underneath my cheek as I gaze at him. "Why didn't you come and get me all those years ago?"

His glittering eyes are watching me from under thick lashes. "You were underage, princess. Your sister told me that you were 15 and I felt like the worse scum on earth for wanting to stake a claim on you. Besides, your father kept taunting me after the event and I knew he was planning to use you against me."

Yes, my father would have used my age to drag the Gauthier's name through the mud. Still, I can't let it go. "For someone who's supposed to be in love with me, you were very busy dating all those actresses and models."

He raises an eyebrow and his stupid sexy lips curl up into a smirk. He pulls one of my hands to bring it to his lips. "Were you jealous?"

"Jealous?" I tug my hand out of his grip. "Why would I be jealous?"

His smile only spread wider and he grabs my hand again. "I love it when you're jealous."

Stupid gorgeous cocky Nephilim! I wasn't jealous! I try to yank my hand harder but he holds on to it tighter, pressing it against his chest.

"Believe me, I wasn't dating them, princess," he says, covering my whole hand with his langer one. "Some, like Naomi, I was set up with by Olivier for PR purposes and also as a favor to her mother because her star was slipping." He pauses, frowns, and mutters, "The woman seriously needs help. She's still calling my PA and showing up at the office, trying to set our wedding date. No wonder no one wants to work with her."

I bite down a snicker. I might have a hand in that.

He lets out a long agonizing frustrated breath before he continues, "Some of them I was friends with and we went out as a group, but pictures of others around us were cropped off for a good story. Sometimes the photos were taken at an angle that made the situation seemed intimate when it was actually quite innocent.

"I might have earned my reputation when I was younger, but I haven't been with anyone for a long time." He places my hand on the side of his face and kisses my palm. "Trust me, I don't want anyone else. Besides, stringing someone along didn't make sense and seemed cruel since I was obsessed with you."

*****

The sun is still high in the sky when I wake up. Sacha is sleeping beside me with one arm flung over my waist, and one leg hooked around one of mine.

I can only lie still and stare at him.

He truly is beautiful. His long eyelashes are thick crescents above his high cheekbones. His face is perfectly symmetrical, chiseled, and regal. His hair falls over his thick eyebrows and my fingers are itching to brush it back.

He looks younger and almost vulnerable when he's sleeping. At a time like this, it's easy to forget how very powerful and enigmatic he is.

Now I know one thing- I am his weakness. The question is, what do I do with it?

**************************************

Hello, dear readers!

As usual, I want to thank you for reading, voting, commenting, and following. 

My next update is going to be on Tuesday evening (est). If you want to read four chapters ahead, go to:

https://Inkitt.app.link/RA_NicoleRidd3y

Have a wonderful weekend and pls stay safe!

Much love,

Nicole♥