Beyond the Empyreal Stars

33.

33.

Before the morning light even filtered through the glass windows of the Mitchell family's quarters and through the opaque sheet that closed off Duke's room, he was awake. For the first time in the last five years, he didn't wake up angry at the world. He didn't have his mind racing with everything they needed to do through the day or even worry about if they'd grown enough to feed everyone throughout the winter months. He should have, knowing what the day would bring, but he pushed the thoughts aside and just looked at her.

Lying on her stomach, Odette was still asleep with half her face buried in one of his pillows, her blonde hair a mess of curls across it. Sometime in the night, she'd kicked the bed sheets off of them, having fallen asleep tangled together.

Now, watching her sleep from a foot away, his eyes traced the line of her body – her still swollen lips, the tear stains on her cheeks, her bare, slim shoulders, the way her tank top had twisted and ridden up, showing the small of her back, the curve of her bottom obscured by the pajama pants she'd borrowed from him, even though they were far too big for her.

Still sleeping with her hair and everything else a mess, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

The night before, when they'd finally pulled apart and climbed down from the roof to his room, Duke immediately picked her up and started kissing her again. Odette had wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as he led them to the bed, gently laying her down before climbing over her. Though their kisses had been hot enough to shake him and the ground beneath them, he knew making love to her would have been out of this world.

His jacket and shirt were in a pile on the floor just a few moments later. Both of them had rushed to get her jacket off before Duke's hands were at the bottom of her tank top, hands pressed against her skin as he began to push it up achingly slow. Her breath hitched in her throat as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers threading into the short hair at the nape of his neck.

But by the time, Duke started tasting the saltiness of tears. He'd pulled back to find her crying, tears streaming down her face as she bit her lip to hold in a sob.

"Why are you crying?" he whispered, wiping away her tears with his thumb.

Odette hiccupped, shaking her head. "Because I know this is the only night I will get with you. And I want this...I want you...but what happens in the morning? What happens when the war begins? What happens if one of us does not make it through?"

"You're going to make it. I know you will. But me..."

"Do not dare start talking like that, Duke Mitchell," she managed to growl through her tears.

"Well, I am only human. I'm not like you, healing in just a few seconds. One shot to the chest or a blade to the back and I'd be dead."

"Stop!"

He stopped with the melodramatics, of course...and added something he'd hoped would make her laugh.

"I'd put up one hell of a fight, though. I'm too damn stubborn. Don't tell me you didn't know that."

It worked. She laughed as tears continued down her face and leaned up to kiss him again.

Though there was plenty of kissing, the rest of the night consisted mainly of them lying side by side, legs tangled together under the sheets. Duke stared into those blue eyes he loved so much, especially that ring of bright green. She was staring, too, her fingers following, tracing every mark, every scar on his skin. She hadn't seen the ones that littered his chest, sides, and back, but by the time she was falling asleep, she knew the story behind every one of them.