Page 22 of Carry Your Debt

Sabine Winters is a labyrinth—an endless maze I blindly wandered into at twelve years old, and one I’m yet to escape. How could I, when each of her walls are constantly shifting, and the path never stays the same?

The day she disappeared and all the ones that followed are seared into the very bones of me.

The tart smell of strawberry chapstick.

A woolen-gloved palm, sliding into mine.

Her teasing laughter.

White-blonde hair whipping in the cool December air, as she spins and walks away for the final time.

And then her absence.

I side-eye my brother’s rigid profile, the Donatos temporarily forgotten. I find myself avidly wishing at this moment that I could read his thoughts as he unabashedly drinks her in. Wondering if they’re half as conflicted as mine seem to be growing the longer I trace her figure.

And despite my trepidations, I’m finding myself extremely…jealousthat I’m not the one who made this dress for her.

I absolutely should not give a fuck if she was dressed by the finest fashion houses in the country.

I should also not give a fuck that she’s here with someone else.

But for some reason I do.

I really fucking do.

It’s a hideous, constricting thing that slinks around inside my chest, poisoning my resolve until all I can think isbut, she’s mine.Planting thoughts that each have my dick stirring, and I loathe that years later she can still make me feel this way.

That she makes me feel anything at all.

The woman in question stands tall and regal, her platinum hair in soft waves and wearing a floor-length ballgown in a blue so deep it looks black beneath the red light of the chandeliers. The dress itself boasts a narrow bodice, a defined, sweetheart neck, and a basque waistline. One shoulder and the upper layers of the skirt are decorated with long plumes that match her mask exactly.

The rest of the dress is shot through with clusters of diamonds, and when they catch the light, they wink like galaxies in deep space.

The effect is otherworldly.

She looks like Nyx.Goddess of the Night.

Sabine certainly looks as if she’s holding court—closely surrounded by three huge men whose combined body language reads like they’re facing down a threat. And from the way they’vepositioned themselves around her, that threat must be the fourth man, whose back is to us. I can’t see any distinguishing features, aside from a mane of golden blond hair that’s just past his collar.

Only the lower half of Sabine’s face is visible to the room, but her mouth is pressed into a hard line. As are her shoulders.

“Who the fuck is that she’s with?” Tristan practically grinds out from where he’s pressed up beside me. His frustration feels hot on my neck.

“Those might be the two men Cal and Lake saw her with at the diner,” I reply, quietly. The descriptions certainly match.A blond and a brunet, both tall, muscled, tattooed.

“What about the third guy? And those masks—are those meant to be ravens?”

I shrug, unsure about both. Sabine and her companions wear matching disguises, each richly decorated with long, black feathers. They do look like they would come from some kind of corvid, but I can’t be entirely sure which.

I also have no idea who the extra man beside her might be. Cal only mentioned seeing her with two heavily inked, Enforcer-looking types. Whoever this other guy is—she must be comfortable with him. He’s practically welded himself to her side, one shoulder angled forward like a shield and the other arm snaked around her waist.

Exactly like a possessive boyfriend might stand.

In fact, all three of them are crowding up in her personal space like they each have a right to.

Isthiswho she’s made her new life with? Who she left us behind for?

Those thoughts send battery acid eating its way through my lungs.I blink rapidly when there’s a burning sensation at the back of my eyes. I have a job to do and I need to remain impartial.

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