She quickly gets in her car and slams the door and starts to drive away. This time I know she isn’t ever coming back.
I open my mouth to call after her, by my throat is too thick or too swollen to make a sound.
Instead, I just stumble after her down the gravel drive.
This isn’t happening.
It can’t be happening.
But it is.
Just as quickly as she appeared, she’s disappearing again.
I pick up the pace, running as fast as my stomach will allow me until I trip over the rocks at the end of the drive and throw my hands out in front of me to catch my fall. Bu
t something else catches my fall instead, a pair of arms that pulls me up before I can hit the ground and pulls me against his chest.
“It’s okay, Sabrina,” Romulus says.
For a small moment, I am so surprised that it is Romulus who is here and holding me that I don’t cry or even breathe. But then I just can’t help it, and I burst into tears and hold on to his waist as if my life depends on it. Romulus holds me tightly as I cry, and he waits until I stop.
When I am finally able to look up at him, he doesn’t look angry at me for having run off again; he looks sad.
“Let’s have a talk,” he says gently. “Just the two of us.”
23
Sabrina
The image of my mother is still burned into the back of my mind.
If Romulus hadn’t arrived, if he hadn’t seen her too, I would have thought it was just a dream. Just another horrible nightmare.
It certainly has left me feeling that way—like my racing heart won’t slow even as my brain tries to piece together what just happened.
When we get back to the house, Romulus takes me to sit by the fire and pours me a glass of wine.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to drink this,” I say as I gesture to my very pregnant stomach as if there’s a chance he forgot about it, even for a second.
“It’s fine,” he says with a smile. “Trust me, your body doesn’t work the way human bodies do anymore. The alcohol will burn off long before it reaches the pups.”
I guess he would know more about how this works that I do. After all, he went through it with Lydia, at least to one-third of the extent anyways.
I wonder what else he knows about wolf pregnancies that he hasn’t thought to share with me before.
As if reading my thoughts, a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Please, don’t think I’m an expert. I just thought poison and alcohol might not mix well. But now that you appear to be through the worst of it …”
He shrugs and sits down across from me.
I take a sip of wine and close my eyes momentarily at how good it tastes. For the first time in months, I don’t immediately choke.
“See?” he says, after eying me for a second. “That will do you some good, mark my words.”
I glance around the room briefly, looking for any sign of Lydia or the boys. It’s been ages since Romulus and I were alone together. On the few occasions it’s happened, it rarely ended well.
I eye him a little suspiciously.
“I don’t mean to sound rude,” I say, feeling as though my tolerance for everyone and everything is down to practically nothing. “But why are you being so nice to me? I know I’ve caused you a lot of trouble. It’s no wonder you don’t particularly like me.”