Page 72 of The Devil's Canvas

I smirk. “Like what you see?”

She blinks, then rolls her eyes. “I was just—never mind.”

“No need to be shy,” I say, stretching deliberately. “Appreciation is welcome. Encouraged, even.”

She throws a pillow at me.

I laugh, catching it effortlessly. “Adorable.”

Her glare sharpens. “Shouldn’t you be off doing… whatever mysterious and totally-not-suspicious thing you need to do?”

I chuck the pillow back onto the bed, finally reaching for my clothes. “Much as I’d love to stay here and be objectified, duty calls.”

I take one last look at Ophelia before closing my eyes.

When I open them, I’m standing in my parents’ living room—and of course, they’re not alone.

My father and mother sit near the fireplace, calm and composed. Across from them, sprawled on the opposite sofa like they live here, are my aunt and uncle. Naturally. Looking far too entertained for my liking.

This is going to be fun.

"You called?" I say, already bracing for it.

"We’re worried," my mother says, tone even but laced with something heavier. "You haven’t been home in days."

"Yeah, sorry, I was just—"

"Busy?" My uncle drawls, raising an eyebrow. "Swept up in the throes of passion? Entangled in fate? Possibly doing something catastrophically stupid?"

My aunt hums. "I vote for the last one."

"She’s not wrong," my father mutters.

"Wow," I say dryly. "Nice to know I was missed."

"You were," my mother says, actually serious, which makes me feel like an asshole. "We just don’t like what you’re walking into."

"Owen said you’ve been with the girl," my father says.

"She’s not just ‘the girl,’" I snap. "She’s my soulmate."

My aunt tilts her head at me, studying me. "You don’t seem worried," she murmurs.

"Because I’m not."

"That’s… interesting," my uncle muses. "Because everyone else is."

"I don’t see the issue," I say.

"You’re not looking hard enough," my father replies, voice level but sharp.

My aunt reaches out, brushing her fingers over my forearm. I don’t pull away, but I don’t like the way she’s looking at me now.

"It’s solidifying," she murmurs.

My uncle whistles low. "Oof. That’s going to be a mess later."

"Julian," my father says, pulling my attention back to him. "You know what happens when the bond grows too strong without full commitment. You know what it could do to her."

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