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The door opens upstairs.
“Seraphina.” Seth drops my name like an anvil that crashes through the middle of the room. “It’s time, girl.”
Everything in me shakes. I bring my eyes up to look at Seth. His shirt’s off, revealing the tattoos covering his well-defined pecs and shoulders. In his left hand dangles a brown leather belt.
“Don’t make him call you twice.” Oliver whispers his advice.
I swallow, slowly climbing out of my chair.
Seth seems satisfied that I’m moving, so he steps back from the railing, waiting for me.
My palms are sweating, my stomach is roiling.
The stairs seem to never end as I climb them.
If only that were true.
I step onto the walkway and turn toward Seth’s room. His dark blue eyes penetrate me. But he doesn’t look mad. It’s his presence; the usual air of grumpiness is gone. There’s something darker now.
When I reach him, I swallow hard. Any promise I might have made to be brave is completely irrelevant now. I don’t want to be beneath this man’s punishing hands.
“I’m sorry, Seth. Really.” My voice cracks beneath the weight of my regret. I should have listened to Dylan. He knew what he was talking about. But instead, I had to play with fire.
Now we’ve both gotten burned.
“This isn’t about being sorry.” His raises his chin slightly. “Because right now, you’re sorrier that you’re in trouble than you are for what you did.”
I look at the belt dangling in his hand. “You think whipping me with that thing will make a difference? Somehow change me?” I should dial back the snark, but my nerves have gotten a hold of me now.
He arches an eyebrow as the right side of his mouth quirks up. “If you think mouthing off right here is going to make me lose my temper and send the men up here to save your ass, you’re very wrong.” He tilts his head to the side. “No one is coming to save you.”
I swallow and glance back down at the dinner table. Alexander has returned, Carter hasn’t gone up for his nap. Neither of them look at me. Seth is right.
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and breeze past him into the room.
My breath protests, clogging my throat.
Dylan stands in the corner of the room. His face is red, his eyes puffy like he’s been crying. But there’s no tear stains, no wetness on his cheeks.
My eyes roam over his body, but he’s fully dressed so I can’t see where he hurts. Did Seth use the belt on him, too? On his ass or his back, or all over?
“Dylan.” Seth’s voice caresses his name as he closes the door.
“I’m all right, Seraphina.” Dylan moves out of the corner, to the middle of the room. It’s a beautiful room. Deep mahogany paneling on the walls. A four-poster, king-size bed with thick blankets, a fur hanging off the end. There’s a full-size mirror encased in a gold frame in the corner, just behind Dylan. Nothing here is what I would expect of Seth. It screams of a sort of rustic extravagance.
“You screamed.” I keep an eye on Seth as I move to Dylan. He holds my arms, keeping me at a distance.
He grins. “It hurt.”
“You were crying. He made you cry.” It sounds angry, my observation, and it is, because I am. Dylan is the most carefree spirit in this place and seeing that tamped down even for a moment has my heart on fire for him.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I wasn’t crying, not like that. I’m fine. You will be too.” He nods toward Seth. “Don’t make him wait and don’t back talk.” His warning comes too late. But I think he knows that because he winks.
“Seraphina.” Seth voice is softer than I’ve heard it before. I look at him, over my shoulder, and find his eyes have warmed. His lips are wet, like he’s been licking them. He lifts his hand, the one holding the belt, and crooks his finger at me.
My throat dries again, so I swallow, wishing I could swallow the fear, too. He won’t hurt me. Not more than I can stand. Lucas made that promise, and I trust him.
I trust all of them, I think.
