Page 47 of Betrayed

Is his showing up now a one-time thing, a check-in to see my real life, the one I shielded from him?

Or a new beginning I didn’t see coming?

CHAPTER TWENTY

Erin

I’ve given them space, hidden myself in the corners of the cabin where I can’t overhear their talk. Lucian calls me back to the kitchen table. “Erin, come hang with us.”

“Gregory,” I say, sitting back down at the table, still in a state of shock. “You have such a different name from Lucian, yet the very same eyes.”

“Yeah,” Gregory turns to Lucian with a grin. “How did I get such a straightlaced name, Luce?”

Lucian rises from the table, saying, “’Cause I was old enough to tell mom not to name you something as weird as Lucian.”

“I love your name,” I tell Lucian. “I can’t imagine you being called anything else.”

“Thanks.”

“Same.” Gregory smiles up at Lucian, like the man hung the sun.

Kind of the same way I smile at Cass.

“I’ve got to check in with the men,” Lucian says. “Can you keep an eye on this one?”

“We’ll be fine,” I assure him.

“I was talking to Gregory,” he jokes.

Playfully, I punch his shoulder. “We both will be fine. Go.”

Lucian grabs his lighter coat, a tan utility jacket, from the hook, without even thinking to ask me for his heavier one that I wear.

“Wait!” I stand up, shrugging out of his coat, wanting him to be warm.

He doesn’t even say anything. Only gives me a look. I sit back down, shoving my arms in the sleeves.

“Still bossy, I see,” Gregory laughs.

“Is he ever?” I joke back, sending Lucian a wink.

“Some things will never change,” Lucian says, winking back at me with a look that melts me.

He shoots Gregory a warning look over his shoulder. “Don’t tell her any of my secrets,” he says. “Especially not about that bowl cut I had when I was fourteen.”

Gregory’s mouth twitches, fighting a grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Lucian leans down to press a kiss to my forehead. His lips linger a second longer than necessary. I know why. He hates leaving me, even for a moment.

But I nod up at him with a small smile to assure him. “I’ll behave.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mutters, “Half the time you think you’re behaving well, you’re causing trouble.”

“That’s not really true,” I whisper to Gregory. “Only half true.”

Lucian disappears out the door, already barking orders to his men.

The chill rushes in, then the cabin’s quiet again—just me and Gregory and the whistle of the kettle.