The rings on his fingers flashed in the light of the chandelier as he ran a hand through his hair. “I think it’s best to simply show you, but I want you to be openminded about it. I did what I could, but you have to understand I couldn’t bring him back the same way.”
An uneasy feeling spread through her stomach. “Bring who back, Darien?” Her words were nearly inaudible.
Only then did his eyes meet hers, and she found that she couldn’t read them. He gestured to his shadow that was spread upon the floor, and a low whistle slipped through his teeth.
The silhouette of a shepherd dog crept out of Darien’s shadow. It moved slowly and hesitantly, as if it was still getting a feel for its body.
When the dog caught sight of Loren, his floppy ears perked up. He came out of the shadow he was sharing with Bandit, edging out of the darkness bit by bit, his large, soft paws entirely silent on the floor.
Loren’s face was wet with new tears as she gaped at the silhouette—the spirit.
A Familiar Spirit.
The dog crept closer, sniffing at the air, before placing one paw on Loren’s socked foot.
“Singer?” The word was a strangled gasp.
The dog gave a long, low whine and rested his head upon Loren’s bent knees. He looked at her the same way he had the last time she’d seen him.
When he’d died in her arms, and she’d sang him a lullaby.
—
Darien sank onto the bed in his suite and hung his head in his hands.
Loren’s bracelet lay beside him on the duvet. It had taken barely a minute to repair it, but his hands had shaken the entire time. He wasn’t sure what he was becoming. He wanted to blame it on the mark of the Blood Covenant spreading up his arm, but he knew that wasn’t it.
The day had been taxing. The lack of sleep he’d suffered this past week was beginning to catch up with him, and he found himself nodding off as he sat on the side of his bed. His head seemed to get heavier in his hands by the second, until he could barely hold it up.
It had been worth it. The years off his life he’d offered to the Widow were worth parting from, if only to see the look on Loren’s face when she’d realized she would get to have her dog forever now. It was an act of selfless love that had convinced the Widow to do a deal with him, and although what Loren felt for her dogwasselfless love, she didn’t have an offer valuable enough to settle a bargain.
But Darien did.
Loren was possibly the first human in history to have a Familiar. Never again would she have to endure the death of her four-legged friend; the dog would go everywhere with her in her shadow, and he wouldn’t die until she did.
Despite how her inescapable mortality was forever looming on the horizon, Darien hoped that would be never.
She’d cried for a long time after the dog had greeted her. Darien had slipped away sometime after, as dog and girl had wrestled with each other on the floor, the two of them so distracted by their own happiness that neither of them had noticed him leave.
A soft knock came at Darien’s closed door, jolting him back to attention.
“It’s open,” he mumbled into his hands.
The door creaked open, and he caught her scent as she stepped inside. Darien lifted his head that suddenly weighed a metric tonne to see Loren lingering in the doorway, her hand resting on the handle. Something about the way he looked made the space between her eyebrows scrunch with worry.
“What did you offer the Widow?” Her words were flat, but there was new life in her eyes. A spark had been rekindled.
And Darien found that it was enough.
“Nothing,” he lied. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Itdoesmatter,” she whispered, her fingers slipping off the handle. She looked him over, and he looked her over, as they had the night they’d kissed. “Can we talk?”
He was so exhausted that it took all his energy just to nod.
Loren crossed the distance that separated them, her socked feet silent on the hardwood, and although he gestured for her to sit beside him, she stayed standing. Her golden hair glowed brightly in the bedroom light, like a halo around her head.
She really was an angel. An angel in a house of devils.
