Grace sits next to me throughout the meal, laughing and joking with everyone, occasionally touching my arm or leaning up against me. It feels genuine, but I can sense her holding back. Again, I get the feeling of something hidden, and my instincts start going crazy.
I only feel this way when something nasty is about to go down. Is Grace dangerous? Would she turn on us?
The thought is so horrific, I shove it out of my head, trying to bury it deep in my psyche.
I can’t overlook this. I also can’t tell the others. All I can do is watch her.
Misery grows in me as I realize this will make our relationship truly adversarial instead of just awkward.
Okay. Don’t jump to conclusions. It could all be paranoia at this point.
Night deepens around us, and families begin to break away from the table to take their kids home. As the table empties, I sense Grace’s unease growing as the moment we have to be alone together draws closer.
Eventually, she stands up from the table, helps some of the others clear up, then heads towards home without waiting for me. I realize that the community gathering was her idea—a way to avoid being alone with me.
Since we’ve already had dinner, we don’t need to cross paths once we get home. I hear her settling down in the bedroom, and I wait until I hear her door close before I shower and set myself up on the couch.
In the morning, my nerves return, but Grace cooks, I clear up, and barely any words are said. We do our duty with the pack, and it gives me great pleasure to see everyone beginning to thrive. The evening dinner becomes a ritual, and the council members we chose quickly become my best friends.
Evenings at home, Grace and I don’t speak at all. After a couple of days of this routine, I start to expect it, and I’m comforted by the repeated actions.
A lot like being in the army. Get up, do your job, sleep. Too easy.
Grace doesn’t seem happy, but she doesn’t seem angry, either, and I’m grateful for it. As a full week slips by, I know that I can handle life like this. Indefinitely, if I have to.
We can do our duty to the pack and to each other, with no one getting hurt. It’s better this way.
The only variable that could destroy our uneasy peace is the snake, and reports are all clear. Sentries and patrols have found nothing; Sloan has found no heat signatures. The rock has stayed cold, and nothing has lit up.
Days stretch into weeks, and the snake stays so quiet, we begin to wonder if it’s ever coming back.
Chapter 22 - Grace
As the weeks pass, the awkwardness with Dan settles into a dull tolerance, and I find a routine I’m comfortable with. Even though it’s a little lonely, it’s a lot less stressful than trying to deal with him, so I keep my head down and don’t question his silence.
Most surprising of all, there is no movement at all from Sakesh. I meet with Kyra once, who tells me they followed the magical traces from the night I faced him down, and afterwards, he retreated down deep into the caves. Perhaps even beyond bedrock into the molten core itself.
I know we haven’t beaten him, but maybe he’s going dormant again. It could be decades before he comes back up.
The coven gives me no new instructions about my marriage, and eventually I stop asking. I did everything they asked me to do, and it seems that if I want to leave, there is no reason why I can’t.
Dan and I are about three weeks into our routine of being distant but tolerant roommates when I feel a shift in my mood and a change of energy through my body. At first, I think it’s something to do with Sakesh, but when I lose my appetite and suddenly get tired and sick, I know what it has to be.
Late one night, when Dan is asleep on the couch, I go into the kitchen and perform a small, simple spell with tea leaves. The answer is clear.
I’m pregnant.
I sit down at the table, my hands shaking. I feel cold and alone, exhausted to the point of collapse, and so sick and hungry I don’t know if I want to eat everything in the house or throwup. I put my face in my hands, feeling tears trickling down my cheeks.
I’m so alone.
A faint flicker of movement blooms within me, and I realize I’m not alone, and I never will be, ever again.
Oh, kid. What the fuck have I done?
I put one hand on my belly, trying to calm my thoughts, but they just keep bolting around my head like horses loose on a racetrack. The nerves only make me even more nauseous, and I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.
I have to talk to Dan.
