Connor choked a little. He was used to dishing out salacious commentary, but being on the receiving end of those jibes was still pretty new. Though startled by Sabine’s remark, Connor nonetheless found it reassuring. At least Adne hadn’t passed any complaints on to her friend.
“I do what I can,” Connor said, trying to return to form. He wasn’t sure he was ready to share his real concerns with Sabine. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the former Guardian, but he was protective of his relationship with Adne—letting others in felt risky.
Sabine, however, wasn’t one to give up the hunt once she’d caught a scent. “I’m sure you do. But Adne snuck out on you? Does that happen often?”
Sabine was also not one to beat around the bush.
Connor grimaced, which apparently was answer enough for Sabine.
“Really?” Her eyebrows went up.
“I notice you’re not in Ethan’s bed,” Connor shot back.
Sabine laughed. “Ethan knows that I like to prowl at night.” Her smile became wicked. “And he loves it when I come back to bed. He doesn’t mind at all when I wake him up.”
“I’m sure,” Connor said drily. He hadn’t meant to go after Ethan and Sabine’s relationship, which was perfect for both surly Ethan and sharp-edged Sabine. In truth, he was a little jealous. By all accounts, Ethan and Sabine—once sworn enemies—should have the complicated, difficult romance. Instead it was Connor who felt like love was tying him in knots.
The teasing glint in Sabine’s gaze faded. “If you’re out here in your pajamas, you must be worried. Is something wrong between you two?”
“No,” Connor said too quickly, then shook his head. “I mean, I don’t know.”
Sabine jerked her chin toward Adne’s door. “Are you sure she’s in there?”
“I have no idea where she is.” Connor heard the weariness in his voice and felt the weight of it on his shoulders.
Regarding him with concern, Sabine said, “She loves you. Don’t ever think she doesn’t. If Adne has a problem, it’s not you.”
“I know she loves me,” Connor told Sabine. “And I . . . there aren’t words for what Adne is to me. But—”
“But what?” Sabine put her hands on her hips.
“But . . .” Connor took a step back. Sabine’s expression was a little dangerous. “What if it’s too much?”
“You’re going to have to run that by me again,” Sabine said.
“It’s just—” Connor scratched the back of his neck, uneasy with the conversation, yet desperate for some relief from the stress of keeping his fears bottled up. “What if it happened too fast? I kept Adne away for so long. I knew what she wanted from me, but I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping my distance. Maybe that was the best course and now I’ve mucked it up. What if now that she has it . . .”
Connor couldn’t finish. His stomach lurched at the thought that after all this time, Adne might regret having pursued him.
“Be careful what you wish for?” Sabine’s laugh was harsh. “Bullshit.”
“You can’t know that,” Connor said, slightly injured by her brash reply.
“The hell I can’t,” Sabine told him. “You had to know that with you and Adne it was going to be all or nothing. Once it happened, that was it.”
Connor started to object, but Sabine shook her head. “She doesn’t regret it. She has known for years that you belong together. Nothing will change that.”
“I guess.” Connor shoved his hands into the pockets of his flannel pajama pants.
Sabine laughed again. “When did you get lame, Connor?”
“I am not lame.” Connor glared at her, then laughed sheepishly.
“Yep.” Sabine nodded. “That comeback proves beyond a doubt that you are in no way lame. Now go back to bed. Despite what anyone says, lurking is not a turn-on.”
With a sigh, Connor rolled his shoulders back. He knew she was right. And he was tired.
“Don’t you go forgetting who it is you fell in love with, Connor,” Sabine continued. “Adne has never needed looking after. She’s a survivor—stronger than any of us by a long shot.”
“Yes,” Connor said quietly. “I know.”
“But I’ll try to catch up with Adne,” Sabine told him. “I’ve been so busy with Rowan Estate, it’s been a while since we’ve had girl time. If something’s off, I’ll try to get to the bottom of it.”
“Thanks, Sabine.” Connor turned away from Adne’s door. “Don’t wear Ethan out.”
“Mind your own business,” Sabine hissed at his back.
“You’re one to talk.” Connor retraced his steps. While his fears hadn’t been allayed entirely, he did feel much better. By the time he reached his door and opened it, he half expected to find Adne curled up in bed, awaiting his return.
But the bed lay as Connor had left it. Disheveled and empty. Undoubtedly cold. Connor pushed off the weight of disappointment that tried to drag him back into self-pity. He went to an armoire and took out an extra wool blanket.
Hardly a substitute for Adne, but it was the best he could do. Sabine wasn’t wrong, Adne had never been helpless; wherever she was, she could take care of herself. Connor closed his eyes, clinging to that thought and wishing he could understand why now, and never before, he had so much trouble believing it.
LOGAN’S VISION BLURRED. He rubbed his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time in the past hour and tried to make the page in front of him come back into focus.
I should have asked more questions. Paid more attention.
His father had lived for over a century. Though he hadn’t been born a Keeper, Efron Bane had wasted no time after his ascension. At the sudden, violent end of his life, he’d been one of the most powerful warlocks walking the earth. Logan had taken his father’s legacy for granted. As Efron’s heir, he’d always assumed that his father’s power would be there for the taking.
And there it was again. Regret.
Logan had come to believe that regret was the most unpleasant of emotions. Far worse than grief or melancholy, one became mired in regret as if it were a tar pit, but rather than just slowing and sinking in the muck, regret’s dark pool had sharp, toxic spines that pierced the skin and injected its captive with the reminder of missed opportunities, poor choices, and all the wrong roads taken.