Sawyer is frightening about half the time, but it’s always the things he doesn’t say that scare me most.
Something happened. Something’s wrong.
And itkills meto not immediately know or understand what it is.
He pulls the device away and shuts it off. My mouth opens with a relieved squeak. I try to look behind me, but I can’t see Sawyer until he stands, his head turned toward the door. It’s another moment before I hear the footsteps coming up the stairs.
I lay my head back down and whine while shuffling my feet.
He didn’t stop for me. He stopped for whoever is here.
“Aurelius,” Sawyer greets the intruder—not quite friendly, not quite rude. “What can I do for you?”
I press my legs together while my skin flares, beads of sweat chilling on the back of my neck. Even with my eyes closed, I can feel the watchful gaze, far more intrusive than the little red light. It’s no wonder what he sees. Disgust radiates like an aura you could touch, the air shifting with his exhale.
“I wanted to see how you were doing… Zephyr mentioned you weren’t feeling well.”
Sawyer hesitates before responding. “It was the fish, I think. I’m not one for seafood.”
The intruder hums while walking this way, his calculated steps ending right in front of me. I still don’t open my eyes. I don’t move.
“Let Thorne know what we can do to accommodate your tastes. I’d hate for your weak stomach to get in the way of preparing the girl.”
The way he saysgirlsounds so condescending that he might as well have said whore. My teeth chomp but loosen with a gasp as hands run through my hair, tingling my scalp like a hundred little hatching spiders seeking a home.
He crouches and runs calloused fingers down my arms. “How close is she to being ready?”
“As I told you this morning, she’s making progress. She’ll need the full three weeks before anyone else should touch her.” Sawyer’s words seem pointed, defensive even. Offended for himself, maybe, but… Either way, the unwelcome touch leaves.
Knees pop inches from my ears. “Of course… I’m happy to see you busy at work.”
The floorboards cry as he wanders the room. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of my daughter. She’s rather protective of you, and I wouldn’t want her to think I was accusing you of anything, but…” My eyes open despite the cramp in my stomach. I turn to stare while he plucks a riding crop from the wall. He studies the braided handle as he speaks. “Last night, an infant went missing. That’s the second one in two weeks, and while I’m sure you’ve been too busy with your project to know anything about it, I’d like you to come straight to me if you hear anything. Interference with our practices comes with serious consequences, for our society as well as the perpetrator.”
“Of course.” Sawyer nods. I wish he was facing me so I could read his expression. He sounds confident, as always. An impeccable liar. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
After a knowing smile, the intruder hangs the riding crop back up and lets out a heavy breath. “I suppose I’ll let you get to it then.”
There’s a half-second pause before the clack of shoes starts toward the door, then fades down the stairs.
Sawyer and I remain quiet until the front door slams. Even then, I’m hesitant to speak. Already, my body flickers back to life, my clit aching—overstimulated. I’m afraid if I utter a word, he’ll remember I’m here.
Sawyer walks to me and crouches just as our intruder had. I lift my head to look at him, but pain in my neck makes me rest my forehead back down.
My head turns while Sawyer runs his hands up my arms, replacing the cold touch with a warm caress that spreads all the way to my belly. When Sawyer massages my scalp, I sigh. Involuntary.Coached.
He’s evil, but there’s no denying he’s good at what he does. Icy. Warm. Icy. Warm. Until warm feelshotand welcoming, and icy is something to endure.
“Who was that guy?” I close my eyes as Sawyer scoops my hair off my back so he can massage the sore, tense muscles near my shoulder blades.
“They call him the Chief Elder.”
I wait for Sawyer to go on, but he doesn’t. He stands and walks around to my side so he can continue up my back, kneading his knuckles over every knotted lump, some that have been there for years.
“Did somebody kidnap a baby?”
His hands pause but only for a second before they start back up. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Really? Because I might have to live here for the rest of my life. It’d be nice to know what the hell is going on.”
