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They stood across from each other in one of the guest rooms on the top floor of Roman’s house, arguing about Darien’s decision to not tell Loren that they were dating, fucking. To not overwhelm her before she had the chance to remember things on her own.
She’d lost her memories. Max couldn’t believe how much that girl had gone through in less than a year. The explosion on Kalendae, being blackmailed by the imperator, saving everyone’s ass during the Blood Moon, dying and being resuscitated, falling into a coma…
And now amnesia. Partial, yeah, but still.
When the hell would it end?
“It isn’t our decision to make,” Max said for the hundredth time, working to keep his voice down. Delaney, who was staying in the bedroom next to theirs, had already bitched to him once about being too loud, and once was more than enough. “It’s Darien’s—”
“And he’s choosing wrong!” Dallas’s whisper was more a shout.
Sure enough, Delaney drawled, his words muffled by the wall separating their rooms, “Shut. The fuck. Upppppppp.”
“She’s going to remember, and she’s going to be pissed,” Dallas went on. “He’s not doing himself any favors—”
“Then let him find out his way.”
Dallas scowled at a painting that hung on the wall. She shook her head, ponytail swinging, the silver rings around her pupils burning brightly. Max knew he was asking a lot of Dallas. Loren, after losing her memories and being thrust into a life that Dallas and Sabrine were temporarily not a part of, would surely want to speak to her adoptive sister the moment she woke up. He only hoped Dallas would find a way to either dodge Loren’s questions or avoid interacting with her entirely.
Again: Asking for a lot.
“Dallas?” Max prodded.
She shifted her scowl from the painting to him. “What?” she bit out.
Max’s brows flicked up. “Are you going to tell her?”
“I should tell her,” she warned. “I’m her sister. She trusts me to be honest with her.” Max could understand that, but…
“Don’t you think we owe Darien a little more loyalty than that? Loren’s awake—alive—because of him.”
“And I’m awake because of you,” Malakai called.
“Quit eavesdropping!” Max snapped.
Dallas returned to glaring at the wall. “I won’t tell her,” she decided. She pointed a finger up at him. “But I’m warning you, she will not be happy with him—with any of us—when she finally remembers.”
A chuckle came from Delaney’s room. “You got that right, Crimson.”
Max couldn’t argue with that. But he’d do what his best friend wanted, even if he wound up paying for the lie in worse ways.
87
Shay’s Apartment
YVESWICH, STATE OF KER
Shay woke up the following morning to the smell of something burning. She was so tired, it took her a while to recognize what it was.
And even longer to remember why a male arm was draped across her waist, twitching every now and again as the Shadowmaster dreamt.
Her eyes shot open to see Roman’s doing the same.
Roman blinked, the gold flecks in his irises brightening.
And then his nostrils flared, and his arm tightened around her, his fingers curling in her shirt. “Pax.”
They were on their feet and running into the kitchen in no time.
