What am I doing? This was obscene.
As I turned to go back, though, Silas was blocking my way to the stairs.
“Having second thoughts?” he teased.
“Would it matter if I were?”
“No.” He stepped down the last few stairs before standing before me and extending his hand. It was almost like he was going to touch my face, but he just brushed some dust from the fur lining of the cloak. “You sure took your time.”
“I did. So make this worthwhile.” I shoved his hand from my shoulder.
Instead of letting his hand fall away, he turned it to latch my palm in his.
When I turned to look, he had already pulled me into his side, his arm looping with mine.
There I was, trapped on an outing with my personal nightmare, at hisrequest.
37
THE CREATURE
It was hard to believe that Alina was here, with her arm looped in mine without resistance or complaint—well,minimalcomplaints. I half expected her to ignore me and go back to sleep. I wouldn’t have blamed her. The pile of pelts looked comfortable.
After the other night, I figured out what I needed to do for her to relax. Clearly, she was establishing her place in the Nest. She wanted me to know that. The fastest way for her to accept me is if I accepted her flirtatious threats. The absence of resistance to her message was all she needed.
Today I wanted to try something different. We had always tangled in the dark, and she resisted bringing ourrelationshipto see the light of day. Now I had the opportunity to show her I am not here to fight.
There was a street market this weekend. The tents lined the snowy streets, closed down to carriages so patrons could stroll.
She inspected the sweets, then some of the dried herbs. She appeared the most at ease that I had seen her since arriving. It was like a state of wandering, with no goal in mind. It was best to keep her occupied.
I noticed she wore one thing I bought her, which gave me an odd warm feeling in my gut. Her neatly gloved hands with the fur trim danced over the goods of the market, inspecting the broad display of goods closely as if each thing she purchased must be to her impossible standards. She had even done her hair; it was braided and twisted and gathered neatly with a ribbon, the thin silken bow dangling at the nape of her neck.
She picked out a bundle of eucalyptus for the tenement flats while we were there, though I did see her eyeing the crates of oranges. Her eyes caught my attention; I recognized that look. She was begging me.
“Pick what you like,” I encouraged, “we have all day.”
“You’re sure about that? I can have quite expensive tastes.”
“I can afford it. I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”
She eyed the sweets, then looked at me expectantly. Then she started to gravitate toward them so quickly, I had to pick up my pace to catch up with her.
“What about this?” She picked up a fruit.
“Do you think I can’t afford fruit?”
That only made her smirk. She moved one booth down, pointing to some wreaths and decor fashioned with ribbons. “This, as well?”
“If that is what you like.”
She moved again, this time across the path to a booth it seemed she knew well—baked goods.
Before I knew it, she had to buy a wicker basket to hold all the sweets and fruits she bought. She was quite the spendthrift when she wanted to be, but I suppose that was the point. It didn’t matter to me; I had more money than I knew what to do with. Every penny spent on her was worth it.
“What are those?” I pointed to a candy in her basket.
“Sherbert Lemons; Rebecca likes them.” She plucked one from the bag in the basket, holding it up for me.
