Page 61 of Barely Breathing

The firelight outlines a leather wingback chair positioned near the hearth. Movement catches my eye as Costin rises from it. I find it odd that his clothing choice matches Astrid’s. He’s dressed impeccably in black slacks and a blood-red shirt. The firelight casts over his features, making him look more like a statue than a man.

“Lady Astrid, welcome. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks, though his eyes fix on me. His expression is neutral, but I see tension in his shoulders.

“Lord Constantine.” Astrid moves to sit in a chair next to his without waiting for an invitation. Thefirelight plays across her stern features. I know that look. I’ve been the recipient of that look.

I look around before slowly going to a smaller chair placed against the wall. I reach for it to carry it over when Costin suddenly takes it from me. He places it next to his chair before resuming his seat.

“It’s time to return what you took from my daughter,” Astrid states.

The word daughter sounds intimately weird coming from her.

Costin grins. “I’ve taken nothing that wasn’t freely given.”

His gaze drops to my neck, where his marks are hidden beneath makeup. I automatically lift my hand to cover my neck. Draakmar’s connection stirs within the amulet. The dragon feels restless.

“She means the memories you took for me,” I explain before Astrid can respond. I move closer to the fire, letting its warmth chase away the chill of the underground, and slowly sit down next to him. “The ones you erased. I want them back. All of them.”

“No.” His expression doesn’t change, but something swirls within his gaze.

No? Just no? I’m not sure what to say to that. There’s no denial or reasoning. Just… no.

Astrid looks at me expectantly, like this is a learning opportunity.

“That’s not your choice to make,” I say.

“Some memories are better left buried,” he counters. His fingers trace the arm of his chair as if examining the leather.

I open my mouth to counter, but Astrid cuts me off.

“That is not for you to decide,” Astrid says, her tone holding just enough chill to be a threat. She crosses her ankles and adjusts her position to face him more directly. The firelight catches the diamond on her wedding ring, sending rainbow prisms dancing across the wall. They’re out of place in the darker room. “This is a Devine matter and a Devine decision. It is only out of respect for my late father-in-law and his affection for you that I am giving you a chance to mend this affront. The Freemonts are making moves against us. Whatever you buried about them, we need to know. You need to tell me.”

“I—” I try to interject. This is a strange argument. Neither side is yelling, and yet I feel like they should be.

“With all due respect, Lady Astrid,” Costin’s eyes catch a glint of fire, and his voice sharpens with a dangerous edge, “you don’t understand what’s at stake. This is not a Devine problem, not exclusively.” His fingers stop their tracing and curl into a fist. “You have no right to come into my home and makedemands of me.”

“I—” I try to say again.

“You have no right to steal from my family,” Astrid counters. “Those memories belong to us.”

“I think?—”

“You will return them,” Astrid continues.

Every time I open my mouth, it feels like they talk over me. Ugh, what am I? Five? I’m tired of feeling like a little kid waiting for the adults’ attention. They aren’t even pretending to include me in the conversation. I hate when they act like I’m not in the same room.

Costin’s expression is controlled like a predator waiting to pounce if forced. I see the tension rippling through him. I also know that look on my mother’s face. They might not be screaming and flailing their arms, but a fight is brewing.

“I made a choice to protect—” Costin begins.

“To protect me?” I interrupt loudly, carrying over their quiet tones as I force them to listen.

They both look at me in surprise.

The amulet feels warm against my skin, a constant reminder of its presence. I lean toward them and direct my attention to Costin. “Like you protected me when you let the wolves take Paul in my place?”

His jaw tightens, and a muscle ticks beneath his skin. “I didn’t know they would come for you regardless.”

I can see he doesn’t like the miscalculation being pointed out to him, especially not in front of Astrid. But I’m tired of tiptoeing around supernatural egos. Paul and Diana do not have much time left. We need to figure out what the wolves are planning. I need to understand what blood and moonlight means.

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