Page 165 of The Harbinger

One. Two. Three.

A heaviness settled in my limbs.He didn’t tell me…My eyes grew hot, itchy, and watery.No. I wouldn’t…I blinked rapidly, then cleared my throat of the lump growing there. “Do you know when he’ll be done?”

“No.”

Vlad walked out the door, holding it open for two ladies who’d taken flowers out back, then let the door close on its own. The two women, no older than me, one with brown hair and the other with blonde, turned their gazes my way, then quickly darted elsewhere as they passed by me.

Was there something on my face?

I swiped my hand over my forehead, eyes, and cheeks, then checked my hands. They were clean. No soot or dirt, and I would have seen something on my face in the mirror after my shower.

So why was everyone acting so weird?

“Uyti s dorogi,”a man hollered from behind me.

I turned and hopped out of the way, pressing my back against the wall as he stormed by and through the back door. I looked at the front, then back, and then followed him.

Dozens of staff members, those I’d recognized and others I didn’t, set up tables and chairs, a podium in front, and to the right… a coffin.

I froze, my heart thumped in my chest, my pulse beating against my ears.

Already?

She died yesterday. How did they have this put together so quickly?

Blood drained from my face and settled in my feet, my vision spinning like a tilt-a-whirl.

Was this why they were treating me funny? Did Ivan get to them before…

My chest tightened, and I dashed inside, shouldering past the throng of staff and into the sitting area I had yet to step foot into, then collapsed onto the couch made for decoration, not sitting.

This was a nightmare, and I needed to wake up.Did they all blame me for this?

I fanned my face, the heat scorching my cheeks as nausea built in my belly. I should’ve stayed in bed today with his scent on my skin and the delicious ache between my thighs.

“Mia.”

I bolted upright.

Sacha stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, his foot cocked to the side—his signature stance. He wore black slacks with a white dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, his watch glinting in the bright sun shining in through the window. His top button was undone, showing a sliver of his tattoo, while his forearms showcased everything, including the thick muscle and plump veins.

I gulped and nearly threw myself back onto the couch to hide the lust. “I’ve been looking for you.” I settled for hunkering down and letting the couch hide the lower half of my face, my lips resting against the back of my hand as I gripped the couch.

“I heard.”

“I’m sorry about your mother.”

“I’d like you to stay in your room today.”

My heart split in two. “You don’t want me to be there?”

He shook his head. “No.”

My throat ached as he took the chisel to my heart again, hitting it with his hammer of words. Soon there would be nothing left except a pile of my remains. “Oh.”

It’s to be expected he’d want to be alone. He wasn’t a man who turned to comfort in a time of need.Was I selfish for wanting to stand beside him while everyone mourned his mother?

“Come, I’ll walk you upstairs and get you settled.”

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