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“I died because I was watching over your girlfriend,” Sara says, a sudden spark of anger in her tone.
I stop at the back door to the house. It doesn’t open when I turn the handle.
I let out a sigh and turn around. “You were captured by witches who killed you. You weren’t watching over Rachel until after you died.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not true. I started following her around when I realized she was your mate. I wanted to make sure she was the real deal. You might have never noticed me when I was alive, but I knew you should have been my brother. You have no idea how hard that was.”
“Was it harder than growing up without a father?” I ask.
“Maybe you would know if you’d been less selfish,” she snaps. “You blew me off every single time I tried to speak to you, Silas. You could have had a father. You could have had a sister. We could have been a real family. Now, we’ll never know.”
She fades out in front of me, retreating to the other side of the veil, where spirits belong.
She’s got a point, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.
My father never wanted me in his life. If he had, he would have tried to be there.
He didn’t try. He stayed away. He didn’t want me.
That’s the truth. Nothing can change it.
The back door opens, and I see Adrian standing there, giving me an expectant glance.
“Are you done out here?” he asks.
“I am,” I tell him, as I walk back into the house.
Wild horses couldn’t drag me back out here.
Whatever Sara wants from me, she’s not going to get it.
I’m done with this. I’m done with her.
I’m not wasting another minute thinking about it.
Chapter Twenty
Adrian
Silasdoesn’twanttotalk about what made him decide to shift last night. I can tell by his expression, so I don’t ask. Whatever set him off, he’s still mad about it.
He immediately goes into cooking mode, getting out a frying pan.
“Are you actually hungry?” I ask him.
He frowns at me. “It’s not that far off breakfast time.”
“Rachel’s still sleeping, and Carter’s gone to bed, too.”
“Oh.” He looks at me, a hint of guilt in his eyes. “How’s Rachel doing?”
“She’s better than she was. She’ll be fine when she’s up.”
“That’s great,” he says.
“It would probably be better to sleep a bit now so you can make dinner later.”
“Right,” he says, putting the pan away.
