Page 113 of Fated In Forever
I want to watch over you while you sleep,he murmured, without a trace of jealousy or regret.I don’t want to waste a single moment of this, not one second.
And right here is the perfect place for me to do that. Thank you,his eyes flashed as the fire blazed higher. For giving me this. One perfect night, for me to remember forever.
53
EVANGELINE
Everyone had been gone all day, doing important, productive,malethings, while I was stuck in my bedroom, staring at my ceiling, because my mates were overprotective, stubborn assholes.
Sure, I was still healing.
Sure, standing beneath a rift belching foul magic all over me all day might be hazardous to my health.
Like in a cosmic-asbestos sort of way.
But I doubted that was as dangerous as extreme boredom, which could definitely be terminal if I stayed locked up much longer.
I took a shower, sorted through my ridiculous clothing choices from Aisling’s friend Val, then went on the hunt for Bex and my sister, wishing with all my heart for a plain pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. I mean, who evenworefive-hundred-dollar jeans?
And to what purpose?
At least I had mom’s old jacket back, the only part of my wardrobe that felt familiar, hid most of my hot-pink shirt, and hadn’t even cost a fortune. Best of all, the faded leather made me feel like a badass, a critical ego-boost since I’d been left behind as a bench warmer.
The silence in Angel's room felt wrong the moment I stepped through the doorway.
Too empty, like the calm of a storm that had just passed. Her bed was unmade, sheets twisted and thrown aside as if she'd been yanked from sleep. The window was thrown open, gauzy curtain fluttering in the cold evening breeze, and that’s when I saw it…broken glass glittering on the hardwood floor like fallen stars.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I took in the rest of the scene—a chair slightly out of place, her favorite fuchsia pillow on the floor, and her current read…carelessly discarded, open, facedown, flattened, like someone had stepped on the spine and broken it.
Sacrilege, and nothing Angel would ever stand for.
I couldn’t detect any foreign scents, and my nose wasn’t as developed as say, Blake or Riordan’s, but every piece of me knewsomeonehad been here.
“No, no, no,” I whispered, rushing to the window. Below, the garden showed definite signs of struggle—a bed of trampled flowers, dark, crushed grass, disturbed earth, and…I squinted. Was thatbloodon the rose bushes?
Then I spotted the note, pinned to Angel's pillow with a silver dagger, because Ravok just had to be extra, the handwriting elegant despite the violence of its message.
Come find us, if you want her to live. – R
Ravok or Romulus.
Probably Romulus, since I couldn’t imagine Ravok having nice handwriting. He could probably barely even write his name. No…I took a closer look around, Ravok hadn’t been here. He would have decimated this room to send a message.
But someone had taken my sister.
Blake, you and Riordan need to come back. In fact, bring everyone. We have a problem.I scanned everything again, looking for more clues, crumpling the note in my fist.
A second later,on our way.
They’d left just before dawn to do reconnaissance.
Somehow, they’d known Angel was practically alone, that most of the staff had been sent home and only a skeleton crew of guards protected the grounds. That Nikolai, Finn, everyone with a working knowledge of magic were at the ruins today, working to stabilize the site, while Nash and our guards were out searching for these assholes.
Angel was vulnerable, innocent, pregnant, and once more in the hands of a monster who collected beautiful things only to break them.
“Angel.” Eldric's voice boomed from somewhere in the house, rough with rage and panic, his heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs.
He burst through the doorway like an avenging angel, unbound red hair flying around his shoulders, shirt half-buttoned, eyes blazing with a fury I'd never seen from him before. He took in the destroyed room, one hand drifting to his chest as he fought for air.
