Chapter 22
Lyla, Tenebrae City
She missedhim.
After a week of being at the Maroni compound, of feeling so many emotions she couldn't even explain them properly to Dr. Manson each morning that she talked to him while having her tea, Lyla missed Dainn so profoundly it left an ache in her chest. In one week, she had slowly seen everyone relax more around her, felt their trust in her climb as they got to know her better. She had meals with them all, spent time with her brother every evening after that, learning what his life had been like and sharing a bit about hers. It wasn't something she did easily, words as halting for her as they were for him, but they had begun to understand each other.
And though she could feel the biggest looming question in all their minds remained about the Shadow Man, they hadn't pushed her into giving any answers yet.
But they would. She could feel the slight impatience as their need to give her space warred with their need for answers.And she had no idea what she would tell them. While the idea of being honest and telling them the truth was appealing, after a week, she had learned one thing—they didn't like the Shadow Man. Especially her brother. The one time Morana had mentioned him in conversation, much to the increased blood rush to her brain, Tristan had made a face so hard she realized how gentle and open he had been with her in contrast.
That in particular did not encourage her to admit to the truth. The very Shadow Man they didn't like was the same man she loved, the same man who had saved her time and again, the same man who had made sure she remained alive and healed enough for them to find her.
Lyla looked around the party, her eyes seeking out every shadowed corner that he always claimed and blended with, hoping he was there but knowing he wasn't. For a week, he had been completely out of contact. All she had were seven notes, one that was dispersed each morning from the box, something she looked forward to each day.
Notes that went from the sweet'Cook for me again soon'to the steamy'My cock has withdrawals from your pussy'to reminders like'I'll be very displeased if you're not taking care of yourself.'
They were literally one of the high points of her day.
People were milling about, champagne glasses in hands, dressed to the nines. Waiters walked around the massive lawns of the property, circulating with different foods and beverages for the guests. The guest of honor sat on broad shoulders, wearing a fluffy pink gown with a tutu and a tiara, grinning at everyone with a smile that was so disarming Lyla could feel herself melting. Tempest Maroni had turned one and it seemed like the entire world was there to celebrate it—people she had never seen or met before, coming up to her and introducing themselves suddenly. Her heart gave a little pang looking at her,wondering at the first birthday she never witnessed for the child she'd birthed.
Speaking of, her eyes sought out Xander, finding him sitting in a corner with Tempest's grandmother, looking bored.
She had met him, actually met him, over the last week.
Lyla had come down for dinner and there he had been, sitting on a seat very far from her, reading a book on a tablet, his glasses almost falling off his nose.
"Xander, say hi to Luna," Morana had told the boy.
Lyla had sat down, gripping the edge of the table, her heart thundering out of her chest, seeing as the young boy didn't even look up from his book but just waved at her. "Hello."
Lyla had managed to croak out a 'hi', before clearing her throat and focusing on her plate, watching him from the corner of her eye throughout dinner.
And for a week, it had been the same, just watching him around the compound, near the lake, at the table, playing with Tempest, sitting with Morana or even Zephyr, walking around with Tristan, doing his homework since he was attending school virtually for a bit. Lyla had just watched him, taking in her fill, learning his personality through observation, letting it seep into her heart, coming to a realization that made everything she had done worthwhile.
Her child, her special beautiful child, was so loved, so taken care of of, had such a good life.
And that was all that mattered.
Lyla took in a deep breath, keeping a hold of her wine glass just to have something to do but didn't sip from it. She didn't drink. Trauma associated with seeing girls get trashed and used after being drugged one too many times had completely turned her off of it. Moreover, even though it was a party hosted by her brother's friends, people she knew she could trust, old habits died hard.
"Trust me still?"
The words came to her, whispered in her mind as though carried by the wind, memory of them imprinted on her being. It was there, standing at a party of people she would trust eventually maybe, that she realized her trust was important, that she didn't give it to anyone. It was rare. Maybe, that was why he valued it so much.
"Oh my god, you'restunning!"
Zephyr came into her frame of vision, dressed in a dark green velvety gown that fell to the ground, a raunchy split on one side letting her walk freely, her curves on display, so much curvier than Lyla's petite frame but looking tiny next to her husband, the one-eyed gentle giant. Alpha had been so kind to her, it had almost made her cry imagining how different life could have been if she'd had someone like him in her corner to scare people away during her younger years. Zephyr, with a heart that matched his, maybe even more compassionate, had styled Lyla's new hair and done her light makeup with gentle hands. Things like grooming and styling had been such terrible events for her, things that had been done to get her the highest bid, primp and prepare her to be sold for her beauty.
Zephyr hadn't done it like that. She'd done it like she'd wanted Lyla tofeelbeautiful rather than look it. And she was feeling it.
Her hair, which she had chopped off roughly and had grown out the same way, was now in a sleek mid-back length—a bob-type cut as Zephyr told her it was called—that framed her face. It made her look pretty but more importantly, it made her feel more powerful. She looked like someone who had control over her life, not someone who was lost. And her dress added to that.
For the party, Morana had barged into her room with multiple dresses, all new and still having their tags.
"Your brother wanted me to go shopping, so who was I to say no?" Morana had told her with a wink.
Lyla had picked a strapless one with a built-in bodice and an elegant, fishtail style fall, giving her legs room to move. The design was amazing but that wasn't the reason she had picked it.