Four Of A Kind

"You’re very confident about that."

"I’ve been watching you for three months. I know exactly how this is going to end."

The sun was setting by the time we left the library, painting the manor’s windows in shades of orange and gold that made the whole place look like something out of a painting. Sabrina led me through hallways I hadn’t seen before, past closed doors and antique furniture and portraits of people who probably had more money than entire countries.

"Where are we going?"

"My room."

I stopped walking.

Sabrina glanced back at me, one eyebrow raised. "Problem?"

"Your room."

"Yes. It’s where I sleep. Sometimes I read there. Occasionally I plot the downfall of my enemies." She paused. "That last one was a joke."

"Was it?"

"Mostly."

She kept walking, and after a moment I followed, because apparently my survival instincts had taken the day off. Sabrina’s room was at the end of a long hallway in the east wing, behind a door that looked exactly like every other door we’d passed. She pushed it open without ceremony and stepped inside.

The room was bigger than my entire apartment.

That wasn’t an exaggeration. I could have fit my living room, kitchen, and both bedrooms into the space with room left over for Gerald the unicorn to have his own corner. The walls were painted a deep burgundy that made the white crown molding stand out like bones against flesh.

A massive bed dominated one wall, piled with pillows in shades of black and purple and crimson. Bookshelves lined another wall, stuffed with volumes that ranged from leather-bound classics to paperbacks with worn spines.

But what caught my attention was the window seat.

The window seat ran along the entire far wall like something out of a gothic novel, cushioned in velvet so dark it was almost black. It overlooked the gardens below, where the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across perfectly manicured hedges and stone pathways.

The light came through the glass at an angle that made everything in the room look warmer than it had any right to be, catching dust motes in the air and turning them into tiny stars.

I could picture Sabrina curled up there with a book, one leg tucked under her, purple eyes scanning pages while her brain dissected every word and filed it away for future use. Hours passing without her noticing.

The world outside continuing while she sat still as a statue, thinking thoughts that would probably give most people headaches.

She hadn’t moved from her position near the door. Just stood there watching me take in the space, head tilted slightly like she was waiting for my assessment.

"You can come in further than two steps," she said finally. "I don’t bite."

"That’s not exactly reassuring coming from the girl who spent three months watching my every move."

"Observing." Her tone was flat, matter-of-fact. "There’s a difference. Stalking implies obsession. I was simply gathering data."

"Right. Data. That’s what we’re calling it now?"

I stepped into the room and let the door close behind me. Sabrina had already crossed to her desk, where she was doing something with her phone. The movement made her sweater ride up just enough to show a strip of pale skin above her jeans, and I forced myself to look somewhere else.

The bookshelves. Safe. Boring. Full of words that wouldn’t get me in trouble.

"You can sit on the bed. I promise it won’t explode."

"Your sisters would probably disagree about the exploding thing."

"My sisters are dramatic. It’s genetic."

I sat on the edge of the bed because standing in the middle of her room felt weird, and the alternative was the window seat, which would put too much distance between us. The mattress was soft enough to sink into, and the sheets smelled like lavender and something darker that I couldn’t identify.

Sabrina finished whatever she was doing with her phone and turned to face me. The sunset caught her hair and turned it into fire, and her purple eyes looked almost black in the dim light.

"I have a question."

"Only one? That seems low for you."

"It’s an important one." She walked toward the bed slowly, each step bringing her closer until she was standing directly in front of me. From this angle I had to look up at her, which was probably intentional. Sabrina didn’t do anything by accident.

"Ask."

"When you kissed Cassidy in the alcove yesterday, what were you thinking about?"

The question hit me like a punch to the chest. I hadn’t expected her to bring that up, which was stupid, because Sabrina brought up everything eventually.

"I was thinking that she was going to bite through my lip."

"And?"

"And that she needed it. Not the kiss, but the... I don’t know. The proof that someone wanted her enough to not run away when she got intense."

Sabrina nodded like I’d passed some kind of test. Then she put her knee on the bed beside my hip and leaned down until her face was inches from mine.

"Good answer."

Her lips touched mine before I could respond.

The kiss was nothing like Cassidy’s. Where Cassidy had been fire and desperation and teeth, Sabrina was cool water and patience and the steady certainty of someone who knew exactly what she wanted. Her hand came up to cup my jaw, tilting my head back so she could deepen the kiss, and I felt her tongue trace the seam of my lips like she was asking permission rather than demanding entry.

I gave it to her.

She tasted like the tea she’d been drinking all afternoon, something floral with a hint of honey, and her body was warm where it pressed against mine. Her knee slid further onto the bed until she was straddling my lap, her weight settling against me in a way that made thinking very difficult.

"Sabrina."

"Hmm?" She pulled back just enough to look at me, her lips slightly swollen and her cheeks flushed in a way I’d never seen before. The careful mask she wore around everyone else was gone, replaced by something raw and hungry that made my heart rate spike.

"What are we doing?"

"I would have thought that was obvious."

"I mean, what is this? What do you want from tonight?"

She studied my face for a long moment, her thumb tracing circles on my jaw.

"I want to know what you look like when you stop thinking. I want to feel you underneath me without any barriers between us. I want to wake up tomorrow morning and know that something changed, that we’re not the same people we were before."

"That’s a lot."

"I told you. I don’t do anything halfway."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!