The next morning, I stand outside Rue’s room, watching her sleep. It’s early, so early, that I am just able to make out her slim figure hidden beneath the blankets. She’s facing toward me, her hair splayed out beneath her in a messy arc of coppery mayhem. Sleeping, her eyelids closed beneath her finely gingered brows, she looks peaceful. Her eyelashes look long on her sun-kissed cheeks.

Her brow pulls down, but her corresponding frown is absent. If only she were this placid all the time. No, she is usually alive with emotion, be it good or bad. I’m glad for it, mostly. It’s part of what makes her so curious a creature.

Then again, I never want to see her as wrecked as she was yesterday. When I pulled her into my arms, she trembled and cried like she’d lost something precious.

I suppose that she has, in a way. There is nothing like knowing that you’ve lost the love of a sibling, nothing at all. I know that myself.

How could I ever forget the look on Arsen’s face when he realized that I had taken his life? Or the look on Damen’s, when he realizes he is caught in between us? We were once two planets, Arsen and I, with two far-reaching and unwieldy fields of gravity. Our collision was inevitable, in that respect.

My mouth pulls into a frown, standing in Rue’s doorway. Does Rue feel that way? That she’s been pulled apart? That the person she was is no longer acceptable?

She dried her tears on the way home. By the time we got back, she simply wished me goodnight and vanished up here to her rooms. I would be willing to bet that she stayed up half the night worrying, given the twisted state of her sheets and blankets.

It almost seems a shame to wake her, but there are only so many hours in the day. And only twelve hours until she’s officially twenty-one.

My lips tip upward as I think about her being old enough to officially say yes when I proposition her. And I do plan on doing that tonight after we take a little trip.

Heading over to her bed, I sit on the side. She’s jostled by the motion, enough to open her eyes a little. I can feel the warmth of the bed, see it in the flush on her cheeks and the fullness of the lips.

Does she even know how badly I want her right now? She sees me and she sits up.

“Is everything okay?” she asks sleepily.

“It is,” I say, reaching out my hand to pull down the covers. I’m greedy, and she is only in a camisole. Her nipples harden in the cooler air and she blushes. I have to practically rip my eyes away from her. “Get dressed. We are going for a drive.”

She blinks a few times, frowning a little. “Okay…”

Before she can ask, I get up, heading for the door. “I’ll be downstairs. Don’t make me wait, Rue.”

As I go, I hear her throw back the covers with a yawn. The next half an hour goes quickly, with me packing a few things and making sure the driver is ready. I take a page out of Arsen’s book today, contracting four bodyguards to follow us in another vehicle.

When Rue comes downstairs, she takes my breath away. She’s wearing a blush pink velvet dress, cut high in the front. When she turns her head though, I see that it’s backless, the back dipping down to her graceful lower back. I bite my lip, because of this dress. It gives me a thousand ideas, every single one of them sinful.

Ideas about pulling her down on the stairs, tearing her dress away, and feeling all that magnificently creamy freckled skin with my rough hands. It will be hard to force myself to behave today, but looking at her…

I know it will be worth every second I’ve waited.

She pulls this long white cardigan around her shoulders as she comes down the stairs, equal parts elegant and fashionable. She smiles shyly at me, her wide blue eyes still tired.

“I’m ready,” she says, stifling a yawn.

I just smile and escort her outside to the car. Once we’re in the SUV, I pull out a thermos and two mugs. She smiles gratefully when I pour her some strong, black coffee.

“How did you know that I would need coffee?” she murmurs, sipping it carefully.

I arch a brow. “It was an educated guess. Plus, I rushed you out of the house so fast, I knew you wouldn’t have time.”

She nods absently, sipping her coffee and looking out the window. It’s so early that the dawn is just beginning to spread across the landscape, turning black to shades of blue. Leaning her head against the window, she stares out.

I find myself wondering what she is thinking about, but I don’t wish to interrupt her solitude.

The drive to Nice is quick, less than half an hour. She notes it when we drive past a sign welcoming visitors to the city, glancing at me. She raises a brow.

“We are almost there,” I say in lieu of any real explanation. “Trust me, you’ll be glad.”

She says nothing, finishing the last of her coffee instead. When we drive past the ruins of Cimiez, she’s glued to her window.

“Whoa. I had no idea that there was an archeological site here,” she says, a little breathlessly.

Inclining my head, I just wait. We turn the corner and pull into the drive of the Musée Matisse, a museum dedicated to Henri Matisse's paintings and drawings. I watch her eyes widen as she spots the sign saying as much. She looks at me, then looks ahead at the big brick building with such excitement.

“I love Matisse,” she whispers, half to herself.

“Come on, then,” I say when we come to a stop. “Let’s go in. The entire building is empty, just for us.”

She kisses me then, a quick moment borne of her excitement. Before I can even respond, she’s already pulled away. She opens her own door and practically bounds out of the car.

Far behind us, the bodyguards I’ve hired spread out around the outside of the building, keeping watch.

For the next two hours, I trail behind her as she quietly stares at paintings and sculptures. I personally do not find Matisse very moving. His art lacks certain darkness that are in works that I admire. But I make a study of Rue’s face as she looks at his works, at the wonder in her expression.

That’s the reason I brought her here. I knew that she would light up when surrounded by the artwork. I could tell from how hard and long she stared at the most mundane things while trying to draw them, like the glass marble on the living room floor.

Lo and behold, but I am right.

When we are done, heading out of the building loaded down with souvenirs, she smiles at me.

“Thank you. This is… no one has ever done anything to celebrate my birthday, much less something so grand.”

She hugs me. My hands are full of bags, fragile things that I wouldn’t want to drop. So, I just let her embrace me in the early morning sunshine, closing my eyes for a moment. Her body is soft and warm, and she smells so good.

Just a few more hours, I assure myself. Then she can really choose to be with me, with nothing holding her back.

When she pulls away, I look down at her with a grin. “It’s not over, you know? The surprise, I mean.”

Her delicate brows rise. “No?”

“No. I thought we could eat outside, among the Cimiez ruins.” I give her a measured look. “I even brought you a new sketchbook and charcoals, in case you want to draw while we’re here.”

A warm light shines in her glacial blue eyes. I’m not sure what emotion it is, but it makes me uncomfortable. Clearing my throat, I look away.

“I believe that our driver has laid out a spot for us.” I offer her my arm. She bites her lip, taking it, and allows me to lead her around the building that houses the Musée. Beyond that, the ruins spread out before us, the rubble awaiting our explorations.

I guide Rue through the ruins, most of them just the low remnants of once-soaring walls. Made of grey stone, the walls are covered with moss. All around, everything is verdant, reminding me of the persistence of nature. In one particular crevice of stone, a tree has begun to grow, its clever roots fitting in the cracks. Widening them, ever so slowly.

Man can build whatever he likes, but it only takes a seedling and the right condition for a seam to form in the rock. Life will out, I suppose.

We sit down in an open space just yards from the ruins, on a soft plaid blanket laid by the driver. Behind us, a number of gnarled grape vines grow, the summer season making them lush.

I unpack the basket left here for us, bringing out wine and little round glasses. There are cheese and butter and freshly baked bread too, and a bunch of grapes and a chocolate pot de creme for dessert.

With every item I draw out of the basket, Rue’s eyes get a little wider. Pulling out the promised sketchbook and charcoals, I hand them to her. I set aside the dessert, making brie sandwiches and pouring us a couple of glasses of red wine.

“À ta santé,” I say, clinking my glass against hers.

“Cheers,” she says, a secretive smile curling her lips. She takes a sip of her wine.

I taste mine too, the burn of the alcohol surprising me a little. Calculating why wine should taste so strongly of spirits, I realize I haven’t had any whiskey in a while. That could be why, maybe.

Frankly lately, I’ve been too busy keeping up with Rue to have many whiskey-soaked nights.

“It’s beautiful here,” Rue says, her eyes roaming the landscape.

I look at her, a gorgeous redhead dressed in a slinky pink velvet dress. My lips curl upward. “Breathtaking.”

She makes eye contact with me and flushes. “I meant the scenery.”

I wink at her, which makes her adorably flustered. We sit in silence for a bit, drinking our wine.

I frown as a vaguely Middle Eastern-looking man walks by the ruins, glancing our way. He seems very interested in us, especially Rue. Then again, who would not look at her, given the option? I scowl at him until he notices me. Then he blanches and moves away.

Looking around, I have to wonder why I even bothered with hiring bodyguards.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Rue murmurs, drawing my attention back to her. She shakes her head. “Do you think they’re looking for me?”

I consider her for a long moment. She blushes under my gaze, looking down at her hands in her lap. That makes me give her a lopsided smile. “I’m sure that Derrik would do almost anything to find you.”

Her brows drop low over her eyes. “Let’s talk about something else.”

I purse my lips. I was going to wait until the end of the day to give her the present I got for her but now seems like a good time. After all, she is looking pretty dour, and today is supposed to be special.

Fishing the long, thin box from the basket, I try to hand it to her. She looks up, puzzled.

“What is this for?”

My eyes narrow on her face. “It is customary to give someone gifts on their birthday.”

A flash of hesitation crosses her face. “Customary where?”

Sighing with aggravation, I push the box into her lap. “Just open it, Rue.”

The face she makes is one for the ages. She’s not used to talk back to anyone, but her mouth and eyes compress in a way that screams dissatisfaction. She takes the jewelry box and opens it, unwrapping the necklace from a sheet of white tissue paper.

She looks up at me, her mouth opening. No words come out, just a confused sound. Rue draws out a fine silver chain, a little blue and red hummingbird hanging from the end.

“It’s… it’s…” she stammers, her eyes beginning to mist up.

“Here, let me help you put it on.” I take the necklace from her, motioning for her to turn around. She turns halfway, lifting her hair. Undoing the delicate silver clasp, I put the necklace around her neck. I make sure to touch her nape with my warm fingers as I hook the clasp again.

She turns and looks down at the hummingbird, which falls just above her breasts.

“Thank you,” she says, putting her hand on my forearm. “Dryas, you really didn’t have to do any of this.”

I smirk, choosing not to make my gift’s reception too emotional.

“Mm.” I sip my wine again, leaning back. “Why don’t you start drawing? I’m content to sit here and watch you work.”

Her brows knit. “Are you sure?”

I cock my head. “I am.”

She opens the package of charcoals and begins sketching experimentally, frowning down at the page. I sit back and watch her for a while, my thoughts wandering.

Thinking about what I’m going to do later, after midnight. How I will tear off that dress and touch every inch of her skin. Not just touch but taste too. Her pussy will be sweeter than anything I’ve ever kissed.

I am going to absolutely eat her alive.

And Rue? She will love every second of it. She’s going to beg me to fuck her, again and again.

At length, I rise and walk around the ruins, making sure to keep one eye on Rue. I try to figure out what the low walls are surrounded in antiquity. A church, maybe?

Maybe a few buildings.

Hours and hours crawl by. Rue seems unbothered by the passage of time. I try to be like her, to pretend outwardly at least, that I am not vibrating with electricity and knowledge.

Soon, I promise myself. So soon. Just be patient a bit longer.

As the sky begins to turn dusky, she sighs and closes her sketchbook. “I think I’m ready to go back.”

I smile. “I was just thinking the same thing.”