“Sepsis related hypoglycaemia is a serious complication.” I continued in a low voice “high blood sugar would have been preferable.”
I watched some of the happiness Theo’s eyes had previously held morph into panic as they flickered over to Stryker, who was playing it off as nothing, makingJack,who was none the wiser, believe it was nothing.
I nudged his shoulder, unwilling to see such a sad expression on his face “he’s strong.” I reminded him “he’ll be okay. They let him out of the healers’ base.”
“Yeah.” Theo mumbled doubtfully.
Stryker stepped aside, allowing us into the house. It was just as massive on the inside as on the outside, with a white marble flooring, crystal chandeliers decorating the ceiling, an imperial staircase leading upstairs and a long corridor to the left of it.
Stryker’s dad stood in the kitchen with Armelle, perched on one of the three stalls lining the island.
There were creases of concern on his forehead, and the smile he offered us all didn’t reach his eyes, but I certainly couldn’t blame him. Stryker shot him an unreadable look.
Armelle, expression neutral, greeted the lot of us. “Merry Christmas.”
There was no real happiness in her tone.
I felt my heart plummet further, trying to push the thought that something worse was going on away because Stryker seemed unbothered.
Theo, evidently picking up on the atmosphere as well, leaned closer to me to mumble “you think something happened before we got here?”
“Probably.” I said softly “relax. He’s okay.” I was trying to convince myself just as much as I was trying to convince him.
“I just…yeah. I know.”
“Help yourselves.” Stryker cut through our whispering, gesturing to a very large plate of chocolate chip cookies on the island.
Theo stacked up seven, catching my disbelieving expression and grinning.
“Fatso gutso.”
He poked his tongue out.
“So, what’s the plan?” Jack asked.
Stryker shrugged nonchalantly “winging it, I suppose.”
“Can I make cocktails?” Theo asked, peering at Stryker’s dad.
I half expected him to refuse him because he was16.
“I work at the pub. I’m good at them.”
“Help yourself.” The man replied gruffly, exceeding my expectations, “it’s Christmas. Alcohol’s in the top cabinet.”
Theo shot me a dazzling grin, clearly starting to get excited.
“Can I drink?” Stryker asked his dad cautiously.
His brows furrowed “one.” He murmured “it’s risky.”
“Okay.” He accepted easily, turning to Theo and grinning “bourbon.”
“Alrighty.”
Who’s up for getting destroyed at chess?”
My arm shot up. Theo made sure to lean in and whisper “boring.”Asshole.
