Death is My Frenemy Rewritten (Book 3 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 29: Pleasant Nightmares

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I awoke lying flat on my back with my hands crossed over my chest like a mummy. My eyes flicked heavenward, and I looked up at the cavernous tower directly above the bed. The one that had no visible stairwell leading to it but a balcony that indicated there were secret passageways.

Victorian Death's bed.

"Pleasant nightmares?"

"Ah, shit!" I bolted upward. Victorian Death lounged on the pillows beside me, his large body sprawled out over a collection of blankets and pillows. He lay on his side with his hand propping up his head and a sheet up to his hips. His torso was bare, and I tried not to stare at the incredible muscle show of his carved upper body.

"Um, why are your clothes off?"

He snapped the sheet off with a fast movement, showing me he was in fact wearing pants. "You were shivering, so I made a fire. I got warm."

I cast a look at the fireplace at the head of the bed, now roaring with flame. Considering the frigid temperature of the rest of the castle, this felt like a rarity. "You got warm."

"You're a fine listener."

"What I mean is, you get cold? Aren't you...dead?"

"My heart will rouse to life and tick occasionally. Especially when there's a stunning creature in my bed." When I looked back at him, his eyes were roving over me, and I felt my face get hot. A grin spread upon his devastatingly beautiful face. "You were moaning in your sleep. Was it for me?"

The ruminants of what I'd seen flashed before my eyes like a horror show. Death fighting off the mirrored creatures, the Forsaken. Had he resorted to eating them to keep his corpse alive?

"No," I clipped, and could barely catch my breath. Swinging my legs off the bed, I jumped down and pushed my hair away from my face.

I touched both wrists for a hair tie to quickly braid my hair but couldn't find one.

"Looking for this?" I turned over my shoulder at Victorian Death to find him dangling my purple hair tie from the tip of a long talon. He stretched the band with his fingers a few times and slipped it down his tanned wrist. "It is not my color, but I do insist you do without it. Your hair is lovely down."

There was something gentle about his voice, his behavior, that kept me on guard. Maybe it was his enigmatic expression, how his eyes seemed to be doing all of the talking. Right now, they were gleaming and testing and prying their way inside me. I felt flush.

"What happened to me?" I asked. "We were dancing in the library, and then I..."
"Fainted." He rolled over with a low noise as I moved out of his vision, his movement languid and lazy. "I find it happens quite often to females in my presence."

I strode around the room, fanning around inquisitively. "I fainted...and you put me in your bed?"

"By any chance, are you related to a parrot? You're like an echo."