Page 320 of Sinister

“This is not the time to joke about this! We need to talk to Valerion. This is⁠—”

“It will all be fine, Petra. Look at him. Look how happy he is.”

He’s finished his feed, and to my surprise, the small incisions he’d made disappear the moment he’s done. I’m not sure if this is a result of me still having Sin’s blood in my system, which facilitates the healing, or perhaps this is yet another . . . peculiarity.

But I find that I don’t care about any of that anymore. Sin is right. He is so happy. He’s all red around the mouth and smiling at us, those red eyes sparkling with joy.

“Oh, Sin! He’s so perfect!” I gush.

“That he is,” he agrees. “Thank you,” he whispers as he lays a kiss on top of my head. “Thank you for welcoming me home.”

86

EPILOGUE II

18 YEARS LATER

“Do we really have to do this?” Sin asks me with a roll of his eyes.

“Why not? It’s fun!” I retort as I pull him closer by his tie so I can arrange it properly.

“I would have thought you would never want to wear your school uniform again.”

“Under any other circumstances, no, I would not want to wear it again. But this is fun! Think about it as role-playing.”

“Role-playing as high school students?” He chuckles.

“I mean, we look the part. And it’s not like we can go there as Rren’s parents. No one would believe us.”

“We could still go as his siblings. We don’t have to wear this.”

“We’re going to blend in,” I say. “Come on, Sin. For me?” I bat my lashes at him.

With a loud sigh, he ends up agreeing to my request. We finish putting on our uniforms and head out the door toward the graduation ceremony being held at St. Anselm Hall.

The ceremony is being held on the football field. Upon entering inside, there are rows and rows of parents, relatives, and other students in the bleachers, while on the actual field, all the graduates are seated together in alphabetical order.

With Arnoult as his last name, Rren is among the first ones. He senses us arriving immediately and turns around, looking toward the entrances until he sees us.

A big smile appears on his face as he winks at us.

I send him a flying kiss, and he pretends to catch it before sending one of his own back—our usual routine. He might be an adult now, having turned eighteen just a few weeks ago, but he’ll always be my baby boy.

I note more than a few girls look at the exchange with frowns on their faces. Some start whispering, and it’s worse that I can hear all that—thanks to Sin’s potent blood.

She’s so cringe, one of them says.

Cringe? I’m . . . cringe? What the hell!

Can’t a mother show her affection to her son? What’s with all those disgusted expressions?

I glare at them until they quickly look away, though they continue to whisper about my cringy performance.

Fucking twats! Who raised them?

Sin shakes his head in amusement. “You do realize how this looks, right?”

“Huh?” I frown.