Page 164 of Inside the Sun

I blush a little. "Yeah, two nights ago. Just a small party," I lie straight to his face.

Dad tilts his head. "Be careful with alcohol. It only feels like it makes things better, but it doesn’t solve anything. It just adds more problems."

Normally, if he said something like that, I’d roll my eyes and tell him not to preach. But right now, I’m weirdly grateful. I finally understand he’s always been on my side, even when he said things I didn’t want to hear. They were only for my own good. In the long run.

"You’re right, Dad. It’s stupid. I don’t know what got into me, but I’m not doing it again," I whisper, unsure if I should promise that.

"I don’t mean to nag. I’m just really worried about you. You’ve lost weight, you’re pale, and the sun’s been out all summer. You didn’t get a tan at all…"

"Oh, if only that were my biggest problems," I mumble, then hug him tightly one more time.

Five minutes after he leaves, first repeating his invitation a few more times, Matteo walks in and holds out his hand.

"Give me the letter," he growls.

I hand it over without a word.

He reads it and bursts out laughing. "Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. No way Anzo lets you go back home. Forget it, slut. You'll end up with us."

He smiles, almost smugly, and tucks the letter into his pocket.

"After what you've pulled off with Vito, guys feel a certain way about you."

A cold shiver runs over my back. So that's my fate?

Then Matteo turns around and says nothing more.

I follow him, trembling lightly, and we head back to the car that’s waiting to take us to the fortress.

But despite the horrible vision Matteo laid out for me, the entire drive back, one thought keeps spinning in my head.

Moon isn’t the only one with prophetic abilities, Snow has them too.

My weirdo of a brother. The one who’s always kept his distance from the rest of us. The one none of my brothers are close with. The one who barely ever speaks. Mysterious. Loner.

He’s the only person I can bring myself to believe, because unlike Moon, who, according to Ragnar, often got things wrong… Snowneverhas.

Is there a chance for me? What’s going to happen in ten days? Will it really be safe to go back, for me and for everyone else?

As we drive through the passageway between the outer and inner gardens, I immediately notice something’s off: several black, unmarked cars are lined up along the path. They weren’t here before, and their license plates are covered.

What does that mean? Is it part of Anzo’s plan? That hit he’s planning on the mysterious high-ranking ‘little fucker’?

I do some mental math. Could the assassination be happening around the 12th of September, right before school is supposed to start for me?

When I get out of the car, I look around in a vain attempt to spot Ragnar, but… I don’t see him. He’s probably still in the hospital now, and I have no way of asking anyone about his condition. Not the guards, and definitely not Eliano. I already made things super weird when I talked to him about ‘the gardener’ and spider mites.

Matteo doesn’t escort me back to my room. I just walk out of the passageway, through the patio, and into the house. I head straight to my room.

Maybe I’ll see him tomorrow? Just outside the window.

He’s a purple alpha and they regenerate fast, right? He has to be back soon… for Summer, if not for me.

My heart squeezes painfully; I close my eyes and force myself to push through it.

But it’s hard, and very, very lonely.

I spot a single bottle of champagne left next to the bed after I asked the servant to bring me two bottles of alcohol two days ago. I just take it without thinking, open it, and take a sip.

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