She huffed. “Of course not. Who would listen to me, anyway? Especially against you. You’re their favorite.”
The irritation festered. “It’s not easy being their favorite, you know,” I snapped. “Everyone’s eyes are on me all the time. Do you think I like that?”
Her eyes widened, the whites of them shining in the darkness. “I’ve never heard you talk like that before.”
“Like what?” I scoffed. “I’m always short tempered.”
She fell silent. Just as I was about the turn away, Silence spoke again. “You were kind to me—when I lived with your family those first few weeks.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “What?”
“When…when Absalom and I argued, when I was disrespectful and a bad wife.” Her voice grew stronger. “I was trying my best. I truly was. I always want to do Erlik’s will. But those mornings you brought me tea while I was still abed? That meant something to me. Thank you.”
The heat spread to my cheeks. “It was nothing,” I muttered. Absalom was not easy to live with. When Silence had moved in, I’d heard him grumbling and sniping, sometimes even shouting at her through our thin walls. And I’d heard her tears late in the night, in between Absalom’s snores. Bringing her tea the next morning, after Absalom had gone to work, seemed like a simple thing to do.
“Your face was always blotchy,” I said, floundering for words. “I don’t like it when people see me with a blotchy face.” It was too obvious you’d been crying. “Drinking hot tea is a good way to bring it down.” I had no idea if that was true, it was something to say.
“Well…” Silence’s voice wavered. “It was nice. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I dragged the toe of my boots through the frozen dirt.
“You should be careful,” Silence added suddenly.
My head snapped up. “What do you mean?”
“I heard the elders talking about the Herald. And all his questions. Elder Dalton seemed annoyed. Elder White wants to take over your role. He said it’s not right for someone who doesn’t study the precepts or lead the congregation to commune with the Herald as much as you do.”
I bit my lip to keep from snorting. I quite liked the communing session we’d had on the reading table. Still, Silence was right. I should be careful.
“Thank you for the warning.”
Silence opened her mouth, then shut it and shook her head. “Good night, Lilith.”
“Night.” I watched her walk back toward her parents’ home, then slipped inside my own.
Mother was tidying up the kitchen. She barely glanced my way when I called out to her. Something twisted in my gut as I paused on the stairs, watching her putter around.
She’s grieving, I told myself. But this also wasn’t unusual behavior before Absalom died, either.
It didn’t have to matter. I had Jo and I had Castiel. And when Castiel left, I would still have Jo. I trod up the stairs toward my bed, pretending my heart wasn’t so heavy.
Eighteen
Castiel
I slept little that night. Again. This time, my mind spun and spun in circles, trying to make sense of the scant information the book had shown me. Us. A coven in northern Anglia. At least I had the name of the coven and the name of…perhaps one of the priestesses?
When my mind was too tired to churn any longer, it slipped back into thinking about Lilith. Skies, she tasted sweeter than anything I’d ever known. I craved her again. I needed it once a day. Twice a day. Forever. I’d never tire of her breathy gasps or the way her legs kicked and shook.
She knew instinctively to reach for the base of my wings, and I loved her for it. Clever girl.
Maybe I could take her with me, back to Mirkwold village. But then you’ll be taking her away from Jo, and she just found them. You can’t do that. I sighed and thumped my head against the headboard.
Ugh, this bed. Too small for a large man with wings. I couldn’t wait to leave it behind.
A knock came at the door.
I grinned, my heart leaping. Lilith! I bounded out of bed, threw trousers on and stumbled to the door, wrenching it open.
