Page 38 of Lovesick

“The web binds what the world would tear apart. The threads do not choose; they simply hold.”

“Solet.”

“Do you accept the thread?” Gore asks us, his voice quieter, but no less intense.

I look down at the spider, ignoring the large red bite very much present on my shoulder, watching as it builds its home with nothing more than Billy and I. And in this moment, I feel it with every fibre of my soul, my devotion, my love, all for Billy Blackwell.

Throat tight with emotion, because I have Billy in my life and that’s really all I’ve ever wanted. The way he looks at me when I look over at him, those glacial eyes on mine. The feeling between us so intense I feel like I might die if we ever have to part.

It’s easy to say my next words, and clearly, it is for Billy too.

“We do.”

Chapter 15

PENELOPE

Idon’t like her.

The way her big blue eyes, framed with perfect lashes, don’t leave Billy. She watches him with hunger, following his mouth with every word he speaks, even though Billy addresses the entire group of people, our housekeeping team to be exact, it’s as though she thinks he speaks directly to her and her alone.

Billy dragged me out of bed, told me to dress quickly and meet him out in the sitting room of our suite. Which is what I did. And now I find myself in an oversized light pink hoodie, fitted black leggings, and a Pair of Billy’s white sport socks too-big on my feet, my shower-wet hair in a messy side braid, and he deems that appropriate for introducing me to our housekeeping team.

They stand grouped just inside the main doors to our quarters, all of them in matching knee-length dresses, black and fitted, white aprons tied around their waists covering their skirts. Billy goes through everyone’s names and what they do. All of them seeming nice, seven women in total, two ofthem, Delphine and Isabelle, I am informed, are my personal attendants, catering to my every requirement around the clock. Which likely means they’ll have nothing to do all day because I am not someone who needs a maid service. If I want something, I’ll just get it myself.

“And finally, this is Imogen.” Billy lifts a hand up in her direction, the blue eyed watcher, “Our head of housekeeping.” I smile tightly, tilting my head in somewhat of a nod, squeezing my hands together where they’re laced tightly at my back as she still doesn’t look at me. “And everyone,” he says, turning to face me, giving me a wink that nobody else can see, “this is Penelope,” a small pause, his eyes still on mine, then, “your boss.”

I almost choke, my eyes going wide, my fingers going fizzy with pins and needles where I grip them so hard, but I don’t say anything in response, flattening my expression to look anything but shocked. Instead, moving my gaze from Billy to the cluster of ladies standing before me, all of them looking unfazed.

All of them except one.

“Welcome, Penelope,” Imogen says tightly, her smile forced, “we can’t wait to serve you.”

“Where have they been all this time?” I ask Billy as he closes the bedroom door behind us, the team of women all moving around the rest of the suite to do their duties.

“What, you mean since you got here?” Billy clarifies, cocking his head at me, I nod. “They’ve been coming in at night.”

I blink, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “Well, that’s creepy.”

Billy lifts a brow, “Yeah, well, I didn’t wanna overwhelm you, plus, there are lots of things you weren’t allowed to see until you’d passed your second trial.”

A shiver crawls down my spine, my eyes glancing up to inspect the spider carvings in the wood ceiling. I haven’t lookedat them since that, the thankfully non-lethal spider bite I got during the trial put me off somewhat. But looking at them again, I see just how intricately beautiful they are and realise I missed seeing them.

I frown then, dropping my gaze, thinking about what he just said, “Second?”

“The first was Novus.”

A sudden chill cools the room, a huge fire roaring behind the grate, trying to stave off the mid-December chill, but I still feel cold, uneasiness settled in my bones.

I keep waiting for news of what happens next.

What comes next.

Another trial.

Something worse.

My fingers reach up of their own accord, their tips hovering over my Pairing mark as I think about it, “But you branded me then.”