Page 6 of Serpent In White

Case in point, a few years back, Jordan’s mother, Lucy, was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease. When she first found out, she was reluctant to tell anyone. She left the doctor and walked to the lake to sit by herself and reflect. Not five minutes later, Darian came out to greet her. And heknew.

He confronted her about her health issues and offered his full support. But he knew about her diagnosis, without her saying a word. Doctor Harriet confirmed she hadn’t shared the information with him, swearing that it would go against the doctor code to do so. Plus, she wouldn’t have even had time. It’s a five-minute walk from the doctor’s trailer to the lake.

And this is just one example of Head Priest’s ability. He always knows every single thing that happens on his land, within his family.

And so it is believed that the secrets really do come to him through the air.

To expand, it’s also known that every few days, Darian requires what is referred to as hissolitude. He adjourns to a private lounge in his Den, a room which no one else uses but him, and he spends a few hours in there.

No one knows what he does during thissolitude, but I think it’s something of a ritual. And because I pay more attention than anyone else apparently, it seems that his eyes become dark, almost black when he’s in need of his time. Then when he emerges from the lounge, they’re bright… Grayish blue, almost like an overcast sky in the fall.

It’s interesting, to say the least, but no one asks or talks about it, because we’re not entitled to answers about such things.

Yet I’m curious. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this curious about anything in my life.

I’mdyingto know what happens in the lounge.

“Who made this bread?” The brogue startles everyone, and we all freeze, faces turning and eyes darting in the direction of our Head Priest.

He’s holding up a piece of my honey wheat, head cocked to the side as he stares back at us Domestics. My coworkers all shift to me, gaping in silence while my heart hurdles in my chest. I blink at Head Priest over wide, nervous eyes.

“I did,” my voice scrapes, and I clear my throat. “I made it, sir.”

Tension slinks through my limbs as I watch him, horrified that he’s going to tell me it’s disgusting or something. Not that he’s ever done anything like that before, but I’m just so scared. I think I’ve only spoken with him directly three times in my whole life.

His tongue slides along his lower lip briefly. It’s such a quick movement, but it roots me to the floor and sends a shiver through my stomach.

“It’s delicious,” he says, softly. A tone made of velvet.

And now I can see his eyes clearly as he stares back at me.Dark blue, like the lake at night.

“Thank you, Head Priest,” I whisper, still all throaty and just trying not to shake.

His lips curl at one corner. It’s the subtlest change in his face, but it makes me lightheaded.

The spell is broken when a loud bang comes from the front of the Den. I jump at the noise, eyes still locked on those of my Head Priest. He doesn’t startle at all, his dark gaze remaining on mine for only a moment before slinking toward the entrance to the dining room, as a tall being with black hair stomps in.

The man pulls out a chair, rather loudly, and plops down at the empty place setting, which is always set for him, though he rarely shows up for dinner.

Letting out a loud breath, he looks around the room, then smirks. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Drake. Lovely of you to join us,” Darian addresses his brother with only a trace of reprimanding being swallowed up by humor and fondness.

“Can’t let you all miss me too much now, can I?” Drake releases his signature wicked grin, blinking over his peculiar eyes at Head Priest.

He turns a wink on Gem, and high-fives Emithel.

The conversation picks back up between the seven of them, and the Domestics retreat to the kitchen to start cleaning up. I move on autopilot, all the while replaying that look in my mind… That voice.

It’s delicious.

I’m not a weirdo or anything. I know he was just complimenting me on the bread, compliments I’ve already received from ten people in the past two days. But for some reason, coming from him, it was like a great gift to be decoded.

I totallyseemlike a weirdo, I know. But I can’t stop myself.

By the time everyone is having dessert and coffee, Darian stands, with Drake, and excuses them to talk business. I watch them go, my insides pleading to follow, though I know I can’t. I’m not allowed to know what they’re doing, if Head Priest is going for solitude now, and if so, what he’s doing inside that room.

It’s none of my business, and it kills me.