Page 116 of The Cannibal

He took an even deeper breath, closing his eyes. He was either meditating or about to expel breakfast along with the champagne.

The wind pulled a hair out of place, tickling his nose as his eyelids twitched, screwing them shut to force some sort of tranquility over his mind.

I combed my fingers through his hair to fix it, cupping his face to bring him back down to earth.

“Silas,” I whispered, my other hand placed on his chest.

His eyes opened slightly, his head leaning into my palm.

“Have you been meditating?” I asked.

“Luka’s instructions,” he mumbled. “I’m working on it.”

“Restraint does look good on you.”

He raised a brow. “I thought you loved my wild charm?” he said sarcastically.

“We will see how long you make it last,” I winked.

“God, you’re just⁠—”

I tapped his face to snap him out of it. “Don’t get soft now.”

“Yes, dear.”

“God, you get more handsome by the decade.” A voice as bubbly and light as rosé.

I thought my eyes were deceiving me.

A beautiful blonde, like an angel, approached. She was like a gentle coastal breeze on sea campion petals. Her eyes were a cool turquoise, the dress matched perfectly. Beside her was another just like her, identical. Except the other wore a deeper blue, and her expression was less animated.

The first one kissed Silas’s cheek, and he wrapped his arms around her waist tightly. His smile was relieved, so bright.

When she let go, he reached out to me, his hand resting on my back.

“Isabella, Irene—this is my wife.” My wife.

“A pleasure.” I held out my hand.

“Oh, no need for that,” she laughed, voice smooth and mature, and she graciously squeezed me into a hug. “We’re family now, after all.”

I looked to Silas while she squeezed.

The other one, Irene, did take my hand to shake once Isabella let go.

“Don’t worry, I’m not much of a hugger either.” She was stern, but playful all the same.

“These are my sisters,” Silas told me. “Isabella is the eldest daughter, Irene is the second.”

“Only by two minutes.” Irene shrugged.

“We share the same mother,” Silas continued.

“May she rest in peace.” Isabella signed the cross. “But that woman really did make the prettiest of the siblings.”

“Isabella.” Irene nudged her.

“It’s true.” Isabella quirked a brow.