Page 202 of Veil of Blood and Bone

My jaw clenches.

Audra’s sleeping peacefully in the bedroom. My bed is empty except for the memories of the last time I was there. Filled to the brim by the three of them and aching, wanting. Needing.

Lust like that isn’t a help, it’s a burden.

Do I want company now? Or do I need some fucking space to figure it all out?

“Yes. Outside. With Forest.”

Wren throws back his head and laughs. To make my point, my insides tighten, and heat shoots unerringly into my vagina. Or is it my heart? My brain?

Either way it’s a straight dose of serotonin, hearing the sound.

Wren’s laugh makes it feel like I’ve got complete control.

“Throwing me out with the dogs already.” He gazes at me.

“There are no dogs out there.”

“I’ll let you collar me if you want.” Wren smiles. “As long as you wear the collar later.”

Nicholas is skulking somewhere below us, in the foyer. Or in the quiet forgotten places in the house where the dust collects and the spiders are free to live their happiest and best lives.

Warm. Safe.

Anxious.

Losing it.

The threads of sanity are down around my feet now, slipping right through my fingers. The sensation is made all the worse because I understood how the shattered pieces fit together before. I learned to live with them.

Wren is only here to watch me and make sure I don’t come apart.

But the last time I was whole and hale, we were in a small apartment in Sedona with Mom dancing her way through the kitchen.

We spent most nights there, drawing cushions from the couch onto the cracked black and white linoleum. Making a fort under the table until I got too old for those games. And Audra got too sick.

Wren waves an arm and shadows slither free, caressing my ankles until I kick them and they scatter. “All right, fine. Forget the collar. For now. There’s plenty of time for it later.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” I cry out, bending to sweep more shadows away from my hips.

“About?” he asks.

“This!” I turn and look at him, catching Wren staring.

Tears flood my eyes. Which is horribly inconvenient because crying accomplishes nothing.

I was fine. Struggling, but surviving.

These men came along, and I realized what was missing. Them. They were missing, the visibility they provided, the safety and the intrigue and the mischief.

Life.

I can’t trust any of it. What will happen when they disappear? What happens to me if one of them dies?

This kind of situation isn’t sustainable.

When they leave, their loss will punch through me, puncture the already scarred surface of my heart, and I won’t recover.