His dark voice trails down her spine, lighting a path of desire that renders her breathless. "If only I were in a position of no consequence."
Alia's breath wavers when the pad of his thumb slowly glides across her bottom lip.
"Then I could give in...
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"I never understood why anyone would have sex on the floor. Until I was with you and I realised: you don't ever realise you're on the floor." - David Levithan
•
"Shit," Alia whispers, hand moving to her forehead. She's curled up against Valen's side with her head on his chest and a leg draped over one of his own. Warm, soapy water covers up to her mid arm whilst Valen's chest and upper abs remain dry. His elbows rest on the ledge of the white marble bathtub, and one of his hands traces patterns on the skin just below her shoulder. His touch resembles a feather, and it comes to a quick halt after Alia's curse.
Valen looks down at her with a raised brow. One of his legs is bent, knee visible above the surface of the water.
"Shit." Alia sits up, eyes wide. Water flows down the ends of her hair, and the cool air clings to her wet skin. "My phone," she says, looking at him. "I was supposed to call my Uncle before we left for Dytikos."
It must have been fully charged the moment she left the training centre. She could have called him, or even Aeron, but getting thrown on a plane to Dytikos managed to make the thought slip her mind. It's been months since she last spoke to either of them, and the guilt of causing all of this shit to happen in the first place has been putting her off from talking to them — or even thinking about them.
But now she's mated to Valen. And to keep such a significant thing from them would be so incredibly cruel. Keeping quiet would make them seem like nothing but a memory, and she can't let that happen. Not when she was the one responsible for removing them from her life. She did this to herself, and she did this to them. So Alia owes them a phone call. Hell, she owes them her life, but there is only so much she can do under Bertraim's searching gaze.
"The Commander?"
Alia nods, frowning. "He's the one who got me out of Vasileís."
"Can't you call him later?" he murmurs, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. "Why is this troubling you?"
She sighs, hands dropping to her lap. "It's because I haven't called him at all."
"Was he expecting you to?"
Alia shakes her head.
"Then he can wait."
Alia looks down at the soapy water reaching below her breasts. She can't help but still feel guilty. Especially when she lived these past few months without thinking about the two men who helped her when she needed it the most. For not calling them after they saved her from Bertraim's eyes in Vasileís. For not telling them that she's okay, and that she's made herself a life here in Rosía.
Valen places a finger underneath Alia's chin, guiding her eyes to look back at him. "How about I go and get your phone for you? Would that ease your mind?"
