Earlier in the week I shared a little scene from Lacrimosa. Not I thought I'd share something from Dies Irae, the Requiem novella that is a prequel to the Lacrimosa story:
The walk to our house is silent. The tension between us grows with every step. I steal a glance at Demi, watching the way she fidgets with the soft folds of fabric wrapped around her body. She looks at the landscape, the ground, her feet. “Demi.” My voice cracks on her name. She stops and finally meets my gaze. “I’m sorry. About earlier.”
Demi closes her eyes and releases a shaky breath.
“You were right. I shouldn’t have rushed in and left my form. I put us at risk and jeopardized the safety of my host.”
She opens her eyes, glaring at me. “You both did.”
I take a deep breath, unsure of what to say. The air is filled with the scent of lilac and sunshine. With Demi. Taking a step closer to her, I reach out my hands. She shudders as we touch and I wonder if she can feel the same electricity passing between us. It’s intoxicating – like nothing I’ve ever felt. More than angelic. More than human.
I take another breath to calm my thoughts. And another. But each one only fills me with her scent, unleashing a bitter craving. A need.
Just for her.
She stares into my eyes, her expression changing from frustration, to longing, to fear. She feels the same as I do. She must.
“I am sorry,” I say, my voice barely audible. I take a step closer, leaving a wisp of space between us.
She steps back, swallowing hard. “We can't.”
I lean in, whispering in her ear. “Can't what?”
“This. Us.” Her voice trembles on the words. “We can’t. It’s against every rule.”
“I don’t care about the rules.” And at this moment, I don’t.
I am still on track to release Lacrimosa next week, so be on the lookout for it!
What are you all doing this weekend?