Page 99 of Keeper

Her voice breaks the silence. “Was that your mother?”

I pause, my hand hovering over a scroll. “Yes.”

“Are they your sisters? They look like your mother.”

“Yes.”

When Everly speaks next, her words are careful, measured. “I’m sure you’re angry at your mother, understandably so, but that doesn’t mean you have to be angry at those two little girls.”

She’s right, of course. Those girls are innocent. They didn’t ask to be born, didn’t choose their mother—just like I didn’t.

I hold out my hand to Everly. “Come here.”

She lifts a brow. “Why?”

“Just come here.”

She hesitates, her eyes searching mine. Then, she takes a step forward, then another. I reach out, grasping her waist, and tug her onto my lap. She gasps, her body tensing for a moment before relaxing against me.

“What am I going to do with you?” I ask.

Everly shivers and curls her fingers into the fabric of my surcoat. “What do you want to do to me?”

I want to kiss her until we’re both breathless. And I want to run my hands over every inch of her body.

But I shouldn’t.

Yet, with her in my lap, it’s hard to remember why I shouldn’t. My hands tighten on her waist, pulling her closer. She fits against me perfectly, as if she were made to be here.

Chapter

Fifty-Six

EVERLY

My heart racesas I shift and boldly wrap my arms around his neck. “I love you.” The moment the words leave my lips, I freeze.

Did I really say that out loud?

My cheeks burn hotter than the sun.

Cenric’s eyes widen.

“I...I…mean...” I stammer, desperately trying to backpedal, “…I love your surcoat. Yes. It’s very black.”

The gods have mercy!

Maybe I can find a nice, deep hole to crawl into and never emerge. Or perhaps Hawke will conveniently show up and whisk me away with his air magic. Anything to escape this mortifying moment.

“What I meant to say was...” I trail off, realizing I have absolutely no idea how to salvage this situation.

“You love me?” Cenricasks.

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry as sand. There’s no turning back now, no clever quip to save me. I meet his gaze and give a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“How long have you loved me, Evie?” he asks, his blue eyes searching mine.

I bite my lower lip, debating whether to answer truthfully or make up some ridiculous lie. But when I look at Cenric’s earnest expression, I decide honesty is the best policy. After all, I’ve already dug myself into this hole—might as well keep digging.

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