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When Dane had followedher home after their meeting at The Fly, Romy didn’t go inside Delacroix Manor. Instead, she waited until his headlights disappeared, then returned to her car.
Against her better judgment, Romy slipped inside Alizon’s Dusk Gardens at PC Headquarters.
Now, she waited in the darkness. For what, she couldn’t say. She still didn’t have answers about what happened the last time she was in the gardens, and in light of Thora’s situation, she’d pushed it to the back of her mind. Yet she longed to be here with him. He was here. He’d been at The Fly. If Romy thought about it hard enough, she could recallfeelinghim throughout most of her life.
Did that make him a stalker?
Did that put her in danger?
No. Never.
This man, thisbeing,had known Romy for eternity, and she’d known him. He was as familiar as her reflection in the mirror and exactly the solace she yearned for.
She knew there would be no words. Only feelings. She knew she wouldn’t see him. Darkness was the only witness to their union. As soon as Romy waded through the pond and into the black, she felt his hand intertwine with hers.
Bastian.
Bastian.
His name was a balm spreading over her fears and insecurities. He sensed what had happened with Thora and was burdened—mostly because of Romy’s own pain, but there was something else. Something more. A brother. Bastian had a brother who died in the most tragic of circumstances. Romy was unsure how, but the grief was palpable. It wasn’t the same as what Romy faced because Thora was still alive, but Bastian understood the depth of love she had for her sister and the fear of losing her.
Instinctively, Romy laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She didn’t care that she'd be at home when she opened them again. She didn’t care if this was vampire mind control or if their interaction was forbidden. None of that mattered. The only thing of any consequence was their two palms pressed together in perfect union.
Bastian’s grip tightened, and Romy relaxed, finally at peace.
CHAPTER9
oops, i’ve accidentally mated with a witch?
Silvan had barely entered his father’s house when Asa came barreling down the narrow hall of his shotgun cottage like a man with a vengeance.
The problem was that Asa wasn’t quite vengeful enough these days.
“There you fucking are,” his father growled. His flannel shirt practically bursted at his biceps, which rippled like violent waves under the thin fabric.
“Been hitting the weights, Dad?”
“I’m in no mood for your usual bullshit, Sil. In case you hadn’t noticed, we have a murderer on the loose in our woods.”
Silvan cackled in disbelief. “In caseIhadn’t noticed? You’re the one on your knees for some fucking witches while they conduct their little ‘investigation,’ or whatever the fuck they’re doing while we all sit and wait for them to feed us the truth.”
“You’re walking a fine line you don’t want to cross,” Asa said when they reached the kitchen. He pointed at the small round table by the window. Moonlight spilled over the center, illuminating the flaws in the old wood. “Sit.”
“I’ll stand,” Silvan replied, crossing his arms defiantly. He almost hoped his fatherwouldpunish him. At least it would dull the grief.
And your arousal over that pretty little redheaded witch.
Asa’s brows fused. The thick vein in his neck was especially popping at that moment. “I wasn’t asking.”
Silvan wasn’t sure why he pulled the chair out and dropped into it. He was in the mood for blood. For sex. Both, ideally. At the same time…
A fight would suffice, and his father seemed ready for one.
Until he bent in obedience to his alpha, Silvan hadn’t realized he wasn’t.
“Right. So why didn’t you shift with the pack at Claude’s funeral?”
Silvan shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.”
