Chapter 29 29
Kaelen's POV:
I'd faced down drunk men, supposed threats from the Order, and a pure red dragon in the past month, but standing on Annabeth's porch at 6:29 PM with a bottle of wine and flowers felt more terrifying than all of those combined. My hands were sweating and I had to switch the wine bottle to my other hand so I could wipe my palm on my jeans before knocking.
Marlen had helped me pick the wine, something red that she said looked expensive but wasn't actually that bad price-wise. Lucian had insisted on the flowers, said showing up empty-handed would make me look like an asshole. I'd argued that this wasn't a date, it was an interrogation, but he'd shoved a bouquet of... I didn't even know what kind of flowers, something purple and white, into my hands and told me to stop being stupid.
So here I was. Flowers in one hand, wine in the other, wearing the one button-down shirt I owned that didn't have any burn marks or stains, about to meet the woman who'd raised the girl I was potentially going to be bonded to for eternity.
No pressure.
I knocked before I could lose my nerve completely.
Annabeth answered almost immediately, like she'd been waiting by the door. She looked... god, she looked beautiful. Hair down again, wearing a dark blue sweater that made her eyes seem brighter, and she was smiling but I could see the tension around her mouth.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi. These are for you. Well, the flowers are. The wine is for your aunt. Or for you both. I don't know, Marlen said this was the right kind but if it's not we can—"
"Kaelen. Breathe."
Right. Breathing. I took a breath and handed her the flowers. She took them and something in her expression softened.
"They're lovely. Thank you." She stepped back to let me in. "And thank you for doing this. I know it's weird and probably uncomfortable but it means a lot to her. To both of us."
"It's fine. I want to meet her properly."
That was true. Sort of. I wanted her aunt to approve of me, which meant meeting her was necessary even if the thought of it made my stomach twist.
The house was small but warm, the kind of place that felt lived-in and comfortable. Photos on the walls, books on shelves, the smell of something cooking that made my mouth water. Annabeth led me down a short hallway into the kitchen, where a woman in her late forties stood at the stove.
Aunt Sarah turned when we came in and I felt her eyes on me immediately, sharp and evaluating. She was shorter than Annabeth, with graying brown hair pulled back and an expression that gave away nothing.
"Aunt Sarah, this is Kaelen. Kaelen, my aunt Sarah Clarke."
I held out the wine bottle. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am. Thank you for having me."
She took the bottle and read the label, her eyebrows going up slightly. "Good choice. Have you had this vintage before or did someone help you pick it?"
Damn. She was testing me already.
"My sister helped. I don't know much about wine but she said this one was respectable without being pretentious."
"Your sister has good taste." She set the bottle on the counter and turned back to me. "Annabeth, put those flowers in water. Kaelen, you can sit. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes."
I sat at the small kitchen table and tried not to look as nervous as I felt. Annabeth filled a vase with water and arranged the flowers, giving me these apologetic looks that would've been funny if I wasn't currently being dissected by her aunt's stare.
"So," Sarah said, stirring something on the stove. "Annabeth tells me you're studying literature."
"Yes ma'am. Twentieth century American lit, mostly."
"And how are your classes going?"
"Fine. Good. I'm, uh, I'm not great with Beowulf but the contemporary stuff is more interesting."
"What are you reading right now?"
"For class or for fun?"
"Either."
"For class it's The Sun Also Rises. For fun I just finished Station Eleven, it's about a flu pandemic that wipes out most of civilization and—" I stopped because I was rambling. "Sorry. I get excited about books."
She almost smiled. "Don't apologize for having interests. What did you think of Station Eleven?"
We talked about books for a few minutes and I started to relax slightly. Sarah had actually read it too, had opinions about the structure and the way the author handled the post-apocalyptic setting. Annabeth joined us at the table and just listened, looking relieved that we weren't killing each other.
Then Sarah brought the food over, some kind of chicken with roasted vegetables and rice, and the conversation shifted.
"Annabeth mentioned you have two siblings," she said, serving herself.
"Yes ma'am. Marlen is thirteen and Lucian just turned fifteen."
"And you're responsible for them. That's a lot for someone your age."
"It is. But they're worth it. They're good kids, just... we've had some tough times."
"Your parents." It wasn't a question. "Annabeth said they disappeared five years ago."
The food turned to ash in my mouth but I swallowed it anyway. "Yeah. We don't know what happened to them exactly. One day they were there, the next they were gone. We've been on our own since."
"I'm sorry. That must have been incredibly difficult."
"It was. Still is, sometimes. But we manage."
Sarah's expression softened slightly and I saw something in her eyes that looked like understanding. She'd lost her sister. She knew what it was like to have family ripped away.
"How do you support them?" she asked. "As far as I know, you’re not working yet."
"We have some savings that our parents left us in case something happened to them... And I do some freelance editing work online. It's tight but we make it work."
"And you move frequently."
That wasn't a question either, and I wondered how much Annabeth had told her. "We do. For safety reasons."
"Because of the Order."
"Yes ma'am."
She set down her fork and looked at me directly. "My sister died because she loved a dragon that the Order was hunting. I raised Annabeth for eighteen years trying to keep her safe from that same organization. Now you're telling me that being close to you puts her in their sights again. Why should I let that happen?"
There it was. The real question, the one that mattered.