25
Sabrina
The Gray family mansion looks decidedly warmer when they’re actually home.
And when I’m actually supposed to be here.
Yellow light spills out across the lawn at the top of the hill as I approach, lighting Rory’s familiar silhouette as he comes out to greet me. A heat spreads in me at his touch, spreading out from somewhere deep in the middle of my chest.
All that warmth and heat is extinguished as soon as we get into the house.
“Where’s Deliah?” Romulus asks me the moment I step into the foyer of the already somewhat familiar mansion. Thank god I have Rory here beside me, his hand brushing mine to keep it from curling up into an anxious fist behind my back. Without him, I might have just turned tail and run.
“She couldn’t come,” I say, hoping he doesn’t pry too much into her reasons. She claimed she had to work, but I’ve seen her schedule and know that isn’t the case. Since Romulus contracts out of the care center too, I have a feeling he’d know if I repeated the lie.
I don’t know what she’s really doing tonight, but I have a feeling she just wanted to get me out of the house. I wasn’t exactly going to argue. Not if it means I might get the answers I’m looking for now.
Romulus isn’t fazed. “For the best, I suppose.”
I can hear what he really means in his voice. One less human to worry about.
I don’t know how much the boys have told their parents about me. I’m assuming they know that I’m aware of their … um … wolfishness, but that doesn’t seem to make Romulus let down his guard. If anything, he’s pricklier than ever tonight.
I keep reminding myself that I can handle anything, anything, for one night.
Especially now that I’ve had a couple days to mull over what I’ve already been told.
It’s kind of crazy how quickly I’ve grown used to the idea of shifters existing in the first place. It’s explained so much about the way the boys were acting before.
And I thought I had a secret. I thought I had a good reason to push people away, to keep them from getting too close.
Over the last few days, I’ve felt my inhibitions with them starting to melt away. The walls I’ve built up won’t crumble overnight, I know, but I’ve started to see the cracks.
I just hope I get enough time alone with Rory, Marlowe, and Kaleb to learn something more about their strange new world tonight. I’d be lying if I said I’d been able to think about anything else over the last couple days.
One doesn’t simply learn that werewolves exist without getting a little excited.
Together, the three of us head into the giant living room, easily the size of two of our little cabins. The air here is dry and warm, courtesy of the crackling logs in the fireplace, despite the chill Romulus is casting around the room with his furrowed gaze. He doesn’t linger beside us, but goes straight over to one of the wing-backed armchairs by the fire where Marlowe and Kaleb are already sprawled out on the floor.
I can tell it takes every ounce of self-control to stop the two of them from leaping up at the sight of me. Even still, their eyes drink me in in a way that makes me blush.
There’s a woman here too, and I suspect that it is their mother, Romulus’ wife. She has a round, youthful face that makes her look both young and wise at the same time. Her pin-straight black hair frames a surprisingly kind smile. I say kind because compared to the scowl Romulus wears, she’s positively beaming.
“Welcome, Sabrina,” she says as she stands up and takes my hand between both of hers. “I’m Lydia. We’re all really glad that you could come to celebrate with us tonight.”
Romulus makes a huffing noise that makes me think he isn’t glad that I’m here at all. He can’t seem to keep still. He crosses one leg over the other, then back, then finally heaves himself back up to pour a glass of red wine out of a large glass carafe.
On the other side of the room by the fire, Kaleb makes a soft whistling noise to get my attention. He pats a cushion on the floor next to him and Marlowe and motions for me to come sit down beside them.
Thank god.
I take an inordinate amount of time settling down in the cushions, mostly just to keep from having to make conversation. It’s warm and cozy by the fire, the flames reflecting in the boys’ eyes in a way that makes their pupils look like they’re flickering. It’s mesmerizing.
Romulus balances several long-stemmed wine glasses in his hands when he finally steps back to the fire.
He holds one out to me, and when he sees me ready to refuse, adds, “Go on now. I heard you’ve already sampled some of our wines. No sense in being shy now.”
“Romulus …” Marlowe starts, tensing slightly behind me.