Page 84 of Lovesick

“Please,” I whisper in a plea. “Don’t take my baby.”

His expression softens, his smile reappearing, “Then join me. Become one of my girls, and you and the child will have every protection this place can offer.”

I shake my head, tears threatening to spill over, but I bite my tongue hard enough to draw blood.

“I can’t.”

I won’t.

“Of course you can.” He brushes my cheek with the pad of his thumb, and the gesture makes bile rise in my throat. “But I am generous. I know these decisions require reflection.” He stands,towering over me, his chin tipped down, shadow smothering me in the deepest shade of black. “You have until tomorrow night.”

My breath stutters, and the air feels like smoke as I try to breathe.

“Twenty-one hours to decide if your loyalty lies with me… with The Obsidian, or… somewhere else.” He shrugs, slipping his hands inside his pockets and turns away.

Fear chokes me so thoroughly I can’t speak. Staring ahead, watching the flames of the fire flicker and spit.

And then,click.

The door unlocks.

He steps aside, gesturing gracefully. “Go on. Gather your thoughts. Choose your future.” His eyes flick to my bulging stomach. “Choose wisely.”

My legs wobble as I stand. The room feels distorted, spinning, the shadows reaching toward me as if eager to drag me back. I don’t look at him again as I walk to the door, but his presence presses against my spine like a hand guiding me forward.

“Oh, and Penelope,” he calls after me just as I step over the threshold. “Not a word to Two about this, we wouldn’t want him to have to suffer for another of yourindiscretions,would we?”

The hallway feels just as suffocating as he closes the door at my back, the air thick with leftover fear that clings to my skin.

I wipe my face, try to breathe, try to think.

Twenty-one hours.

To save my child.

To not betray my husband.

Twenty-one hours to-

I turn a corner too quickly and collide with someone.

Hard.

We both stumble.

Hands catch my arms, steadying me.

“Penelope?”

I blink through the blur.

“Dolly?”

Barefoot, wide-eyed, her dress is simple white linen, cinched with black rope. Her blonde hair is braided down her back, adorned with small silver charms that glint like stars.

And her wrists-

Bruises.