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Snow
When I step into my room, there's none of the same relief I expect to feel. All the way here, I was imagining what it would be like to finally be home, to have my own belongings surrounding me, and to be with my family under the same roof. But all the relief I expected is absent.
The room is missing something, but it takes me long moments to figure out what it is.
Elijah.
Although it's identical to the one at home, it’s missing his scent, his presence. The realization makes me stop in my tracks, stopping in the middle of the room as reality washes over me.
I’ve come to think of Elijah’s house as my home, and I can’t quite put my finger on when that happened. The estate I grew up in, and even my apartment in the city, they don’t feel like mine anymore.
It could be Stockholm syndrome. Maybe my mind has accepted there’s nothing I can do to escape the man who stole me away, but something tells me that’s not the case. There’s a niggling feeling deep in my gut that tells me I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
Maybe it’s some of Elijah’s confidence rubbing off on me. When he tells me about how sure he was from the first moment he laid eyes on me, the conviction and all the things he did to make it a reality, I can’t help but believe him.
“Are you okay?” Wynter’s voice breaks through my thoughts, tearing me back to the moment.
“Of course,” I tell her, continuing into the room and perching on the edge of the bed. Even the mattress doesn’t feel quite right, but then again, I’ve spent the last few nights with Elijah, and I don’t think any bed he’s not in will ever feel right again.
She watches me carefully, uncertainty crossing her features as she rests her hand absentmindedly on her barely there baby bump. Of course she looks perfect while pregnant, because Wynter takes everything in her stride and looks like a supermodel doing it. I’m sure even when she’s in labor, she’ll be ready to step out onto the runway.
“This wedding is very rushed,” she finally says, crossing the room to where I’m sitting.
I nod slowly and shrug. “It is, but when you know, you know.”
She lets out a slow breath and I can almost hear the words on her tongue before she speaks them. “You’ve always been the free spirit in the family, and I love that about you. I love how brave you are, and how willing you are to go against the grain of what’s expected of you. I just can’t help but wonder if perhaps this may be a case of you going against Storm.” She chooses her words carefully, making sure to not say what she’s thinking. They think this is just another case of me rebelling.
“This is what I want, Wynter.” It’s a lie I’ve practiced over and over again, because I knew this conversation was coming. Except, as the words roll off my tongue, I find it’s not a lie. Not anymore. I do want to be with Elijah. The realization slams into me and knocks the air from my lungs just the way the first one did. Holy shit.
She watches me for long moments, looking for mistruth in my words, but when she doesn’t find any, she lets out a soft sigh. “I just want you to be happy, and if he gives you happiness, he’s okay in my books.”
I smile and reach for her, wrapping my arms around her. “You’re going to be the best mom, Wyn.”
She lets out a laugh, the feeling vibrating through our embrace. “I hope so. And hey, maybe you’ll give him or her a cousin soon too!”
I hold on to her tighter for a few moments and squeeze my eyes shut to ward off the tears. This is the thing that keeps dragging me back. I’m not ready to be a mother, and I’m certainly not ready to bring a child into the world with Elijah. I may want to be with him, but the idea of having a baby with such a brutal man, scares the life out of me.
Wynter doesn’t seem to notice the dull panic that erupts in my belly at the thought, and for that I’m grateful.
“I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” I say, quickly standing from the bed and crossing the room before she can say anything.
When I slip into the bathroom and close the door behind me, I immediately drop to my knees in front of the cupboard. My heart beats heavily in my chest as I rummage behind the bottles and makeup products until I find what I’m looking for and relief washes over me.
A few months ago, Doc gave me three months’ worth of a contraceptive pill to try to regulate my periods, and I never got around to starting them between everything else that was going on. I’ve never been more grateful for his foresight and my forgetfulness as I am right now.
I shove the small packets into my bag with a fleeting hope that Elijah doesn’t go through whatever I want to take back with us. I don’t think he will, I think we’re past the point of him thinking I might kill him, and me thinking I might want to. I’ve already killed one too many people.
I flush the toilet I didn’t use and wash my hands idly. Wynter is suspicious enough without me doing anything else to tip her off. And hell, she should be suspicious. Her sister who has never expressed a desire to get married, who never played with bridal dolls as a child, is getting married in a few days, with not enough time to plan, to a man who has always been a mortal enemy of our family. I’d be fucking suspicious too.
When I walk back into the room, my sister is pacing back and forth across the room, worry etched into her brow. Wynter isn’t much of a stressor, normally the calm and collected one as the rest of us go into varying levels of panic, but she looks about ready to tear her own hair out.
“Everything okay, Wyn?” I ask.
She stops in her tracks, turning to look at me as she worries her lip between her teeth. Her brows are pulled together. Whatever is troubling her is causing her real stress. “I need to tell you something.”
“Anything. You know that.” I take a few steps closer to her, but when she steps back my stomach plummets. There’s something wrong.
She takes a deep breath and lets it out, rubbing her stomach a few times as if it will give her some kind of strength. “Storm and Everett think Elijah is double-crossing us. They think he’s the one who took the shipment the other day and that orchestrated the attempt on your life.”
