Page 7 of Catalyst

“You can stay as long as you need.” That seemed safe enough.

She let out a deep exhale, pressing her fingers to her chest as she mumbled something I didn’t quite catch. I could practically see her muscles relaxing one by one.

Ah, fuck. I was staring at her again.

“I can pay bills!” she hurriedly offered. “I kind of lost my job because I worked for my family… but I have savings, and I can get another one!”

“You’re in school, right?”

She nodded, and I winced.

“No job,” I ordered, trying to be firm without overstepping. A job, school, mourning, and a baby were way too much for one person to carry. “I make enough; if you need or want something, just ask, and I’ll make it happen.”

Her lips parted as she studied me like I’d suddenly grown another head.

“No job?” She echoed like she couldn’t quite believe it. “But... I don’t want to sit around and be useless. I need to help somehow.”

I waved her off. “You’re growing a human. That’s enough.”

Her brow furrowed, and I felt like she was going to argue with me, but it would be in vain.

“Give me a list of stuff to get you from the grocery store.” I yawned as I stood. “You’re home now, and I want you to feel like it.”

Chapter 3

Callie

The melodic chiming of my alarm clock dragged me out of sleep long before I was ready, which fucking sucked. I’d already snoozed it three times, and now I had no choice but to face the day. Groaning, I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, silently cursing myself for signing up for an 8 a.m. class. What the hell had I been thinking?

Yawning, I rolled over, trying to calculate exactly how long I could stay in bed without being late. Then, something clicked. For the first time since the showcase, I’d slept through the night.

My eyes snapped open, and my vision swam for a moment before focusing on the popcorn ceiling of Sulien’s room. Since his death, vivid memories disguised as nightmares had haunted my nights. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in that arena—gasping for air between lungfuls of smoke, trapped under the heat of the explosion, watching the world disintegrate as blueflames tore through the air. But last night? Nothing. I’d been blessed with a blissful, dreamless sleep.

The bed creaked as I struggled to sit up, fighting against the familiar ache in my lower back. I let out a strained breath and rubbed the curve of my stomach. Pregnancy sucked. Everyone had warned me it would, but I hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

At least I still had some part of Sulien left with me.

My lip trembled as that sharp, familiar ache of grief clawed its way up my chest. Sulien’s room still smelled like him: faintly smoky, like burnt wood and something darker. Sleeping in his bed was comforting in a way, but it also made me miss him even more—and that was something I didn’t have time for right now.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, stretching as I stood. Lately, I felt unbearably heavy, and I knew it wasn’t just the pregnancy. Using food to fill the hole in my chest—especially homemade spinach artichoke dip—probably wasn’t helping, either. I sighed. There was nothing I could do about it now.

I padded over to the bag of clothes I’d left on top of Sulien’s dresser. I’d ordered some new outfits last night, but they wouldn’t arrive for a couple of days. Until then, I’d have to make do with what I had, which wasn’t much. After digging through the bag, I settled on a pair of leggings and a tank top that had fit last week. The leggings didn’t go on as smoothly as I anticipated, leaving them to stick to my thighs. Wiggling my hips, I slowly coerced them into place. The tank top wasn’t any better, leaving a strip of skin exposed just under the hem.

“Great,” I muttered, tugging at the shirt only for it to pop back up.

Maybe I should just skip school today. But no, that wasn’t an option. Skipping class just because my clothes didn’t fit would be pathetic. I had to keep going. I needed to prove I could do this—not just for myself, but for Sulien. For the baby.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror hanging on Sulien’s door and turned slightly to inspect the bump. Before I could dwell on it too long, the door creaked open.

Kane stepped inside, shirtless, wearing charcoal gray pajama pants that hung low on his hips. In the dim light, his tattoos rippled across his tanned skin, almost blending into him.

I tried—and failed—to keep my gaze respectable. Normally, that would have been mortifying for me, but I took comfort in the fact that Kane’s thoughts were dirtier than mine.

Damn. His eyes lingered on me for just a second longer than they should have.She looks fucking good.

He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze back to my face. “Is that what you’re wearing to school?”

I glanced at my reflection again, unsure what he was seeing. “I don’t have much of a choice,” I said with a forced smile, shrugging. “None of my clothes fit.”

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