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They sound so nice.
The guilt did sit heavy that I’d run from them. In running from everything else and everyone else, they’d gotten caught in the crossfire.
December faced Dorian. “Baby, can you go get them?”
Dorian started to, but Ares cut in.
“Let me go,” he said before glancing at me. “Will you be okay?”
“She’s with us, honey. She’ll be fine,” December said, and once Ares got that, he took two veranda stairs at a time up to the house. I hadn’t been to the back of the house aside from the garage, and it was crazy. The large home kissed the sky, the home’s gardens and widespread landscape so lovely back here.
Of course, security strode through it. People with their fingers to their earpieces who smiled pleasantly at us over hedges. That was all my fault, all this because of me.
Chaos.
Forcing my breath to steady, I swallowed and stayed close to Bru.
“Maybe we should get our bags,” he said to me, but Royal lifted a hand.
“We can take care of that. Son?” Royal waved Dorian after him, and though Dorian went, he took a beat. He was always taking a beat and looking at me while he did.
And why did my breath stop?
It did, and it steadied nearly immediately after. Like one subtle acknowledgment from him was enough to remind me of something, and no matter how much I ran from it, I couldn’t deny it. He was here.
And he was here for me.
He and his father came back from the trunk with Bru’s and my bags, and though Royal reunited with December, Dorian took my empty side. He said nothing, just standing there, but when that veranda door opened and three people came out of it, I grabbed his arm. I grabbed my brother’s hand too, but…
I squeezed the solid muscle, shaking when Ares arrived with two people behind him. The three were making their way down the steps, and for some reason, I couldn’t let go of the dark prince.
“Don’t be scared,” he whispered, and our gazes clashed, eyes locked. He hooked his arm, allowing the death grip I had on him to stay. He smiled slow. “They’re more nervous than you.”
I couldn’t breathe again, swallowing, and suddenly, we were moving. Dorian was moving me closer to the three people making their way down the stairs. I didn’t let go of him, nor did I let go of Bru.
Bru squeezed my hand, and he may have noticed my hand on Dorian too. If he had, he didn’t say anything, and the only thing I was certain of was two facts. One was that Ares Mallick looked exactly like his dad and mom.
And I did too.
Ramses was tall and even more so than his football-playing son, his hair a wash of thick curls that were rich in dark color. They were way tamer than his son’s and a lot shorter, his shoulders broader, but the two definitely had similar features. Ramses had his hands on Brielle’s shoulders, the woman wearing a sweater dress under an ivory trench coat. She looked so official, the mayor. Her honey-gold complexion was only slightly fairer than Ramses’s, and I wondered about their ethnicities.
I guess I wondered about mine.
Air intake became harsh again, the woman so lovely. Her brown-black hair was bumped under and rested on one of her shoulders. She had silver hair, but just a strip of it on one side, which seriously made her look like a superhero. I recalled having that thought before when I’d initially met her at school, but that meeting had been different. I hadn’t known I’d met her at the time.
My mom.
“Sloane and Bru, this is Ramses and Brielle.” December introduced us, and I noticed her voice had changed. It was thick with emotion, and when I glanced at her, I noticed a sheen coated her eyes. She blinked it away quickly before facing the Mallicks. “Ramses, this is Sloane and her brother Bru. Brielle, I know you met at least Sloane.”
She had, but again, it’d been different.
We looked at each other, and I could tell we were both studying the other. Had she known then? At least, some part of her?
Neither of us said anything in the moment, maybe too shocked to. I didn’t know why she didn’t say anything, but I’d been in complete dismay. I noticed one of Ramses’s hands leave his wife’s shoulders in our silence, and he directed it toward my brother.
“Bru,” he said, and I was happy for that buffer. It was like I couldn’t make my mouth work, and it was possible Brielle had the same problem. Ramses smiled at Bru. “Welcome to our home.”
He placed his other hand on top of my brother’s, and his voice cracked. It was only slight, but I noticed. It was also enough to cause Brielle to place her fingers to her lips and December to squeeze her husband’s arm.
