On top of every other uncertainty, Petra found herself listening to soft voices through the door of his bedroom and felt… odd. Out of place.
Through the open window, she swore she could hear the faint strains of a child’s laughter. Silas had ordered her to sleep, but she couldn’t stop herself from creeping out of bed after a short nap to peer out the window. A wild forest of trees insulated the home, but she thought she could just spy the shape of another house when the breeze moved the leaves just right.
Did that home belong to a member of his clan, too?
Petra’s stomach tightened with acute discomfort. Letting the curtains fall back into place, she wandered back over to the bed. She sank onto the mattress, hands on her knees, and tried to sort through the chaotic jumble of feelings that were making such a mess of her head.
Why was it so strange to think of Silas in a clan? With adad?He’d mentioned them before, of course, but…
Maybe it was because somewhere deep down, she’d assumed that someone as bad as him could only come from a world like hers — one where a healthy family life was a luxury.
Of all the things that could have made her uncomfortable in her situation, it said something truly grim about her that it was the fact that Silas might actually come from a loving, crowded home that unsettled her most.
Petra put a hand to her forehead.Good gods. Maybe I’m the fucked up one in this relationship.
She choked on nothing but air and spit. Were they evenina relationship?
On the heels of that thought, a new realization stole her breath. Petra’s fingers moved to press hard against her lips.
That man is going to be my bondmate. Glory save me.
Her stomach did another uncomfortable convulsion. There were too many questions, too many unknowns. That was all her life was, apparently, now that her purpose had been more or less fulfilled.
Unable to dwell on that for any longer, Petra decided she needed to move around some more, Silas’s growling about bedrest be damned.
She didn’t exactly want to wander out into the middle of his clan — in fact, short of meeting Antonin again, she couldn’t imagine somethingmoreundesirable — but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel a little more human again.
The sun was setting, casting the room in a rosy glow as she went hunting for the clothing he’d apparently pilfered and brought with them in their escape. For once, she actually appreciated his lack of boundaries. It was a bone-deep relief to be able to don her own soft lounge pants and breezy shirt.
She picked through what he’d brought — little more than a backpack’s worth of her belongings, but that was almost everything she owned, anyway. The back of her nose stung witha fresh wave of emotion when she discovered her little makeup kit at the bottom of the bag and, below it, safely wrapped in one of her blouses…
Matvei. Max.
Of all the things he could have grabbed, the fact that he remembered her uncle’s ashes meant more to her than he could understand. Perhaps he hadn’t done it for any sentimental reasons —likely— but that didn’t make a difference to her. The thought of leaving her uncle’s ashes and maybe never being able to retrieve them would have been too painful to bear.
But she had them, and the fact that she did made the new, fragile thing between her and the demon a little bit stronger, a little more real in her mind.
Petra tenderly covered the box up with her blouse and set the backpack aside. She was just considering stealing a pair of thick socks from Silas’s bureau drawer when the door opened.
“I was gonna bring you dinner, but since you’re ignoring orders anyway, you might as well come downstairs.” Silas’s annoyed drawl wrapped around her, familiar and comforting even when he sounded like he was considering turning her over his knee.
Petra turned away from his sock drawer and faced him without shame. If he got to go through her things, she wasn’t going to feel self-conscious about stealing some of his comfy-looking, too-big socks.
“I’m not really hungry,” she protested.
“Tough shit. Dad should have another look at you and you need food.” He padded over, lambent eyes intent in a way that felt both predatory and something equally intense that she couldn’t quite identify. Cupping the side of her head, he scowled at her. “You look pale. You should have slept more.”
“I’m fine.” There were approximately a thousand reasons she might look a little wan, not least of which was the prospect of meeting Silas’sfather.
“Little liar.” Hetsked.“You’re coming downstairs, Petra. The only choice you have is whether you want to walk or be carried.”
“Silas, Ireallydon’t think I’m in a good place to meet new people right now.” Recently shot was bad enough, but when she might be a fugitive murdererandmaybe, possibly about to bond with their son? That was too much.
Silas’s eyes narrowed. “What is this?”
“What?”
“Are younervous?”
