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Summer
“I want to spend the day together, and would like to make you breakfast,” Rook announced, “then we can do whatever you want.”
I cleared my throat, freeing the muddiness and regret stuck there. “I was going to ask—I’d like to go to my house today." I gestured towards the top of the dressers, where he'd placed the poppet. “Kuru said to bury it somewhere special for protection. I'd like to bury it next to my mother's grave.”
“Your mom would love that."
We both dressed quickly, Rook once again donning his impressive suit like armor. I decided on a simple but elegant black dress to match my intense mood.
I wanted to honor mom today, in a way I couldn't have done when I was a kid.
After suggesting we grab a coffee and pop tart to have along the ride, Rook sighed heavily and, growling that he was going to spank me, sat me at his kitchen counter. Hand-feeding me a nutritious breakfast and heated looks. Fingers constantly touching, stroking my skin. Pressing soft kisses and nibbles across my jaw and neck.
His obsession with me pulsing through the connection between us, turning me inside out. Was I dreaming?
After we cleaned, he slid his fingers through mine, holding my hand as we walked towards the car.
Rolling down the window, I closed my eyes, letting the air blow my hair as we drove. The atmosphere was heavy, charged with a humid, crackling energy. A flock of birds flew across the sky, away from dark clouds, looming, promising a coming storm. I felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for something, unease filling the cavity of my chest like a rising flood.
There was something familiar about this moment, about the way Rook was looking at me when I woke, and all throughout the morning.
It reminded me of my father, how he used to watch me after mom died.
The promise of regret and sadness.
As if...as if, letting me go would be painful, but he was going to do it anyway.
Undergrove. I suddenly remembered last night, his whispers late in the night. I’d been so sleepy, it had taken me this long to realize the truth. He’d told me his secret, the one Saul was searching for—the one thing that would release me from their contract.
The realization slammed into me like an anvil—he was giving me my freedom.
In that moment, I despised Rook.
Hated how easily he gave up—instead of fighting for us.
I'd wished that we'd never met.
Because this time, I wasn't sure I was going to be able to survive the pain.
As we pulled up to Darkmoor Manor, there was a sleek, matte black Tesla waiting by the gate.
"He's with me," Rook explained, rolling down his window, punching in the code and drove up the drive, “Wait here.”
Taking a moment to get something out of his car, he opened my door, then crouched, “Give me your feet.”
Turning, he slipped my heels off, replacing them with muck boots, nodding towards the sky. “In case it rains.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking his hand as he helped me from the car.
Pulling me to him, he hugged me, kissing my temple, murmuring softly, “Of course.”
Questions swirled in my mind and as I made my way from the garden shed where I’d scrounged up some tools. I eyed the man curiously. With umber-dark brown hair and thick, vintage black glasses, he had the look of a rakish professor. His pants were grey tweed, with a white button up shirt, and a colorful tie that was slightly askew. He was handsome in a mature, intelligent way, and his whimsical mustard yellow muck boots made me smile.
And yet, when he turned to look at me, I could sense danger in him. He had the same sense of authority and command that Rook had.
“Summer. Nice to finally meet you again,” he said, stepping towards me.
“Again?” I shook his extended hand.
