Page 90 of Once the Skies Fade

Matthias.

“You’re early,” Graham said through gritted teeth.

“Am I?” Matthias asked, and I downed the remainder of my drink and turned in time to see Matthias stepping past Graham who stumbled back a half-step. His eyes caught mine immediately, and a dashing smile lit up his face, which somehow still looked handsome despite his slowly healing wounds, though in a more roguish way than before.

“Killer,” he said, dipping his chin in greeting. My stomach squirmed and tightened in response. Was I actually starting to like the absurd nickname?

Graham straightened, squaring his shoulders. “Don’t call her that,” he commanded.

“It’s alright, Graham,” I said, which earned me a quirky look from Matthias that I did my best to ignore. “He doesn’t mean any harm by it. It’s just a joke.”

“Not a very funny one,” Graham said, tension still evident in his rigid stance as he tried to block Matthias from entering further into the room.

“Your time’s up, Graham,” I said. His head swiveled around, and he opened his mouth—probably to argue—but slammed itshut again. His eyes, however, remained furious. I bowed my head. “Thank you for coming to chat with me.”

Graham stood there, gawking at me for a few painfully long breaths, until I mouthed the wordgo.

Fuming, he stormed out, ramming his shoulder into Matthias’s as he left. Matthias grimaced and started to lift a hand to his stomach as if he was in pain, but then he stopped, shoving his hand into his pocket instead. The door slammed so hard the portrait frame on the wall beside it rattled precariously.

Matthias tossed his thumb toward the now-closed door.

“What’s eating him?”

I waved my empty glass in the air dismissively. “He’s just being Graham.” I spun back around to the cart, still holding my glass up. “You like brandy, right?”

What am I doing?

I’m not here to fucking connect with any of them!

Especially not him.

It’s just a drink though, and I could use another one.

“I do, in fact,” Matthias said. “Are you offering?”

I peeked over my shoulder at him where he remained near the door. “Just this once.”

His laugh filled the room, rough and low. He took slow steps toward me. I tensed, waiting for his warm scent to invade my senses, but he stopped sooner than expected. With a strained exhale, he dropped into one of the armchairs, and his voice came out weary when he finally spoke again.

“I don’t like to share either, especially not the good stuff.”

Turning on my heel, I slowly walked back to the sitting area and offered Matthias his glass. He breathed it in, and I nearly smiled when his eyes closed with an appreciative sigh.

“You’ve had this before?” I asked, pivoting around to settle into my chair across from him.

“Indeed,” he said, lifting his drink toward me in a silent toast. “The Vranic family makes the best brandy I’ve tasted, and I’ve had my fair share.” Carefully he drew the glass to his lips and tipped it up to let the dark mahogany liquid slide into his mouth. Another sigh escaped him as he pulled it away and stared at it longingly, whispering, “I’ve missed you, old friend.”

I hid my laughter behind my glass, but when his eyes—alight with pure bliss—met mine, I sobered up, remembering why he was here and why I didn’t want him to be. Tossing my drink down my throat, I set the empty glass on the table beside me. I started to pull my legs up into my chair, to tuck them under me as I usually did, but I quickly thought better of it. Dropping my feet to the floor, I stiffened in my seat.

Matthias chuckled again, but this time it was quiet and subdued. “I thought a couple drinks were supposed to help you relax.”

I bristled. “I am relaxed.”

His eyes trailed down my rigid posture, past my tightly clasped hands in my lap, to my feet.

“Clearly,” he muttered. “So am I the last for today?”

I dipped my chin. “One couldn’t make it.”

---