Page 317 of Sinister

He couldn’t very well stay away from me, no? He wouldn’t be much of a stalker if he did that.

“They want a second medical opinion.”

“That’s fine. I’ll handle them.”

“Not everyone can be bought off,” I hiss, placing my hand over my mouth so my parents don’t hear me. They’re busy researching the micros and macros of the dishes on the menu.

“Petra, is that Sin on the phone?” my mother inquires, noticing me.

I smile guiltily and end the call, placing my phone screen-down on the table. “He wanted to join us,” I admit.

She gives me a wry look. “And we love him, but we almost never have time just with you. I hope he can understand that.”

“He’s just overprotective,” I mumble. Now that’s the understatement of the century. Or, erm, centuries. Not that they need to know that.

“A good quality to have.” My father nods. “Although sometimes he can be too clingy.”

“You think?” I raise a brow.

“I don’t know how you youngsters do it anymore.” He shrugs. “Perhaps it’s perfectly normal, and I’m worrying for nothing.”

It’s far from normal, but I’m not going to admit that to my father.

“He is a good man.”

“That he is. You chose a good one,” he agrees. “But you’re sure you want to marry so young? You can wait a few more years. You don’t have to do it right after graduation.”

As if anyone could stop Sin, but I’m not going to tell him that either. Besides, I happen to want that just as much. We’ve already had one failed engagement in the eighteenth century. I’m not going to let him slip through my fingers again. I want to make that as official as possible.

So what if it technically will not matter as much in the future, when we will have to move around, change identities to keep people from finding out we don’t age? It’s for me. I want it.

Sin demands it, too. He wants to see me as a bride, in grand gowns and lace, and I happen to be just as excited for it.

As soon as I give birth and return to my regular weight, that is.

I bite my lip as I feel a little tap against the walls of my stomach.

“No, it’s fine, Dad. I’d like us to marry as soon as possible, too,” I mention, a little absent-mindedly.

“If you say so. It’s not as if we can change your mind since you are technically an adult⁠—”

Their voices drown out as I feel a pressure around my midriff.

I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s not pain per se, it’s more like a tension that will not fade.

“I’m going to the restroom,” I stammer as I stand up. On shaky legs, I head toward the bathroom. Sin notices me from his spot in the back and meets me in the hallway that leads to the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?” His brows knit together in worry.

“I don’t know,” I answer on a low groan of pain. My hand goes to my bulging stomach, and I let out a harsh gasp.

“Contractions? Is the baby coming?” he asks eagerly, already circling around me and studying me from every angle.

“I—” I don’t even get to answer him before I feel wetness between my legs. I look down to the puddle forming under my feet. “Shit,” I whisper.

“Shit,” Sin echoes.

Grabbing me by the hand, he uses his shadows to take me to a private clinic. I’m so wrapped up in the fact that water pours out of me that I barely register him ordering people around.