Page 46 of The Devil's Canvas

"A little," Lucas mutters.

I turn back to the intruders.

The woman stands effortlessly poised, barefoot on my living room floor, the hem of her dark silk dress swaying slightly as though touched by a breeze only she can feel. Her auburn curls spill freely over her shoulders, wild but deliberate, untamed but not careless. Silver eyes—hypnotic, too sharp, too knowing—take me in all at once, as if she’s already figured me out.

Beside her, the man leans lazily against the arm of a chair, smirking like he’s been here the whole time, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to say something just to get under my skin. Dark tousled hair, an unbuttoned collar, red-and-gold eyes gleaming with amusement and absolutely no urgency.

Adrian exhales like this is a formality at best. "Selene and Theron." He glances at me. "Our parents."

My head jerks toward them, eyes narrowing. "Parents?"

Selene tilts her head, silver gaze flicking to the Mark on my skin before returning to my face. A soft hum leaves her lips, not in surprise. or concern—in interest.

"She’s destabilizing," she murmurs, her voice smooth, warm. She lifts a hand, the delicate rings on her fingers catching the light as if the gesture itself means something. "I can feel it."

My skin prickles at the certainty in her voice. "You want to explain what the hell that means?"

Theron exhales, shaking his head, the smirk still there but softer now, edged with intrigue. "It means we need to know exactly what’s happening to you. And for that, you need to stop fighting it long enough to listen."

I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes. "Right. Because I should just take the word of two people who walked through my living room like reality doesn’t apply to them."

Selene’s lips twitch. "That’s fair. Let’s make this easier. You ask the questions first."

I glance between them, skeptical. "Really?"

Theron shrugs, settling into a chair like he’s been here the whole time. "Why not? I’d want to know who was screwing with my life too."

I inhale sharply through my nose, already regretting this. "Fine. What are you to Julian?"

Selene leans back slightly, resting her weight on one hip. "His aunt. And before you say anything—yes, I know. I don’t look it. Demonic blood has its perks."

My eyes snap to Theron. "And you?"

He smirks. "Uncle. Younger than his father, but infinitely more charming."

"That’s debatable," Selene mutters under her breath.

Theron places a hand over his chest in mock offense. "You wound me."

I roll my eyes. "So, Julian’s entire family is a supernatural mess, and now I’m tangled in it because of some cosmic matchmaking glitch?"

Theron laughs, tipping his head back like I’m the funniest thing he’s heard all day. "Oh, I like her."

Selene’s expression is more measured, but her amusement is obvious. "It’s not a glitch. It’s a design."

I shake my head. "No, it’s a mistake."

Her expression doesn’t waver. "You think that because you’re fighting it. But let me guess—despite how much you resist, despite how much you tell yourself you don’t want this, the bond is still pulling. You still feel him, don’t you?"

The question lands like a rock in my chest. My jaw tightens, but I say nothing.

Theron drags a breath through his nose, clearly unimpressed. "Look, we can get into all the poetic fate stuff later. Right now, the problem isn’t whether or not youlikethis bond. It’s why it’s moving so fast."

I grab onto that immediately. "Yes. That. Why is this happening so quickly? And Julian looks like he’s one second away from completely losing it. Is that normal for him? I don’t know. Maybe it is. Maybe this is just who he is."

Selene and Theron exchange a look—one of those silent conversations that makes my stomach tighten.

Selene sighs, finally moving to sit, her posture still too effortless, too composed for someone delivering what I assume is about to be bad news. "Your bond isn’t just strong. It’s unstable. It’s reacting faster than it should, and Julian…" She pauses, her lips curving slightly. "Well. He’s taking the brunt of it."

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