Page 20 of Caelum

“It’s beautiful,” Eve whispered, breaking into my thoughts as she placed the remote on a stand and trudged over to the view, dragging Stefan with her.

Eren shot me a look. “Are their hands glued together or something?”

My lips curled. “She’s not letting go, is she?”

“That doesn’t surprise me. They all love Stefan, but the fact that he isn’t trying to get loose?”

I understood Eren’s concern. Stefan was a player. He wasn’t interested in innocent little bits, no, but the chicks who were like him—experienced and ready to let their souls consume them. He and Dre were one and the same on that score.

Even as I wondered what Stefan’s end game was, I noticed the mark on his back. It hadn’t been there before, and I was used to seeing my brother’s half-naked body because we were the ones who worked out together, and I was used to scanning him for weaknesses that I could take advantage of in a fight.

“Fuck,” Eren whispered, apparently noticing the mark as well. How goddamn long had it been there? It couldn’t have been long otherwise Lori would have picked up on it and shit would have really hit the fan.

“Stefan?” I called out, watching as he turned back to look at me.

“Yeah?”

“We have a problem.”

FIVE

EVE

“Is something wrong?” I turned back to look at the boys, but they shut up the second I caught their eye. Instead, Eren tossed a shirt at Stefan. It had been tucked into his waistband, flapping down behind him, but I watched as Stefan, frowning at the others, grabbed a hold of the fabric then tugged it over his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” Nestor said, his smile tight. “Are you going to be okay now?”

Stefan argued, “No, we need to explain things to her.”

Eren shook his head. “We really don’t. Nicholas will handle that.”

“I don’t want him to,” Stefan growled, and his features tautened with an anger that had Nestor and Eren raising their hands in surrender.

The other boys looked surprised at Stefan’s aggression, and they looked even more surprised that I wasn’t cowering in the corner.

I wanted to snort at that. If Stefan’s growling was considered a temper, then they’d never have survived at the compound.

Some days, when my father was angry, I thought he’d burst the blood vessel that ticked on his temple. His rages were renowned among the congregation, and it was something Father Bryan made him repent and atone over repeatedly. It was also why we were stuck at the back of the church—punishment for his inability to control himself.

Self-control was, in Father Bryan’s creed, the epitome of Godliness.

The thought had my knees buckling, and I almost sank to the floor when reliefhit me hard.

I no longer had to listen to that nonsense. No longer had to live my life like I was contained in a block of ice.

I was free.

Free to feel, free to live.

Until they learned the truth, of course, but until then, I’d have more of an existence than just the confined space of the compound.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Stefan rasped, grabbing me and helping me sit on the seat that was tucked under the large window. “I’m sorry I got mad, I?—”

I shook my head at him then, as he crouched down in front of me, grabbed both his hands and whispered, “They won’t make me go back, will they?”

His eyes softened. Those beautiful blue gemstones gentled as he looked at me. “Never. This is where you belong now.”

I believed him.

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