Page 122 of Bitten & Burned
UNLOVABLE
Kravenspire, Sol, Verdune
25 Ebry, Year 810
The journeyback to Halemont blurred together—early morning fog, the creak of the carriage, Cassian’s shoulder bracing me when the road jolted too hard. Each bump set a dull ache pulsing through my thigh, the sigil burning just enough to remind me it hadn’t gone anywhere.
I wasn’t ready to face what waited for me at the manor again, but choice had nothing to do with it. By the time the sun sank low, the gates loomed behind us, and Halemont’s silence pressed down once more.
Vael and Dmitri greeted us at the door. I let Fig out of his carrier the second we got inside; he ran into the bowels of the house to do whatever it was he did.
It was quiet. It was kind of nice.
I hugged Dmitri, sighed into his warmth. It was all-encompassing, and I thoroughly enjoyed his embrace.
Vael stood there in his impeccably tailored clothing, butdidn’t make a move otherwise. I waited, hoping he’d at least say something.
He didn’t; he muttered something about the time and turned on his heel, escaping back to his quarters again. I sighed, my shoulders slumping.
Cassian’s hand came to rest on my lower back. “Are you alright, little dove?”
I shook my head. “What am I doing wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “He just needs time.”
Anton came to me the second he and Quil returned. He’d wrapped me up in his arms and hadn’t let go. And I hadn’t wanted him to.
He felt safe in a way I hadn’t had since back on the boat. Beside him, I could sleep. I could read. I could even stare into the void, and he’d let me. The bond didn’t thrash or strain with him—it hummed low and steady, like it finally remembered what calm was.
He didn’t pry into my thoughts the way Vael did. He didn’t keep me on edge like Quil always seemed to. Cassian and Dmitri could offer comfort, too, but not like Anton.
There was no pressure to perform with him. No pressure to do anything at all. With Anton, I could just… be.
That’s all I wanted. To justbe.
I’d practically lived in Anton’s rooms since he returned. Three days, maybe more—I’d lost track. The first morning after, I’d gone to make breakfast, only to run into Quil in the kitchen. He escaped before I could so much as ask him a question.
The way he bolted made my stomach twist. He was acting…strange. Even for him.
Or maybe not. Maybe he was acting exactly like himself, and I was too mixed up to see the difference.
Anton didn’t seem to know what was wrongwith him.
“Darling, he’s a difficult one to nail down… Want me to go and tie him up for you?”
“No, Anton,” I replied, squeezing his hand. “I just… was he acting strangely on the boat ride back?”
“I’ll be honest with you, Rowena—I was counting down the minutes until I had you back in my arms. Didn’t have much room to worry about Quil. He asked a few questions, but otherwise he was quiet. He’s a pensive sort of fellow, that Quil.”
My shoulders slumped, and Anton leaned over to kiss me. His lips left a trail from my neck down my shoulder, down my arm, to my hand. And then he started sucking on each of my fingers, and I sort of forgot about everything for a few hours.
Which was… lovely.
Cassian had been busy, tightening the manor’s defenses against whatever might come crawling out of the woods. He hadn’t been around for more of his particular brand of comfort—and maybe that was for the best. I wasn’t sure I could handle him again so soon.
Dmitri was keeping to himself mostly, but I’d noticed him on the outskirts, playing with Fig. Apparently, he and my cat had become fast friends.
Fig did love Anton as well, though. It might have something to do with the fish Anton supplied for him, but one couldn’t be too sure. He also slept in Anton’s house slippers, so there was that.
