Page 26 of Covenant

If this were anywhere else, I’d crawl inside and let the water soothe me, but since this is Matthias’s tub, his bathroom,his room,I refuse to use any of it. To enjoy it. I will hate it until I leave.

“Your things will be unpacked by tonight. It’ll be like you were always here.”

My nostrils flare and I clench my jaw. Well, fuck.

“Oh goodie,” I say, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

Matthias’s smirk is back. “Don’t be like that. Your life is going to change and for the better.”

I open my mouth to say something witty and rude, but he cuts me off. “Let me show you the kitchen. Jules should be there. He told me he’d be making you something to celebrate your arrival.”

I snort in annoyance. Who the fuck is Jules?

I don’t ask the question, but Matthias answers it anyway. “He’s my cook. A live-in chef. You’ll be well-fed living here.”

“I’m perfectly fine as I am.”

His eyes slide down my chest and I feel my abdomen curve inward. I feel every inch of lost weight and muscle mass.

Matthias blinks. “If you say so.”

I feel small and disgusting in that moment. I want to snipe at him that it’s not my fault. That I know I’m not at my best. That I could look better, could be better, but the circumstances of the past year have worn me down. I’ve lost weight. I’ve lost some of my hair. Even my skin looks sallow.

I’m a walking corpse.

But I say nothing. My fight and rage have vanished at his implication, pulling me down with it.

Matthias leads me down the hallway, explaining that these are the guest rooms. Apparently, he has parties and visitors.

I had a life like that. Once.

“My brothers come often,” he adds, and I purse my lips. I know he has five of them, but I’ve made it a point to avoid them over the years.

Just as I’ve done with Matthias himself.

Matthias continues talking as he leads me deeper into the house. “I also have an office in the east wing. I’ll show you that after you meet Jules. I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

I don’t say anything, just listen to the tap of our feet on the floors as we make our way back down the stairs. We move past the foyer and into the kitchen where a man is moving about. He’s wearing a white apron and a chef’s hat, his hands covered in flour, some lingering on his nose as well. He’s younger than I was expecting, probably around our age.

“Ah! Is this the husband?” he remarks, his words lined with a French accent and his green eyes sparkling with good humor.

Husband. I fucking hate that word.

“My name is Wyatt,” I say and then move forward, remembering my manners and holding out my hand. Jules shakes it, getting flour on my palm which I promptly wipe on my pants. Probably shouldn’t have done that. This suit must’ve cost Matthias more than my rent. Actually, I should pour the entire flour bag over my head, really make a mess.

“Wyatt, ah yes. Matthias has talked so much about you…”

I doubt that’s true but say nothing. Just let Jules move to the refrigerator and pull it open, producing a tray with small cakes on them. He grins at us proudly, blond hair peeking out from beneath his cap.

“Matthias said that you like strawberries and cream.”

I peer over at him and my eye twitches. “I used to.”

Jules frowns slightly. “Have your tastes changed?”

“Everything has changed,” I reply hotly, and Matthias runs a hand across his mouth.

“Not that much. Try one.”

---