Eternally Bound, Chapter 63: Everything Isn’t Fine
Eva
The cool air of the night settled on my skin, a stark contrast to the languid warmth of the island. Our steps landed soft on the stone path leading to the mansion's grand entrance. The moonlight, usually a comforting glow, felt like a spotlight on my unease. We had found a measure of peace on that distant shore, a balm to the raw edges of our grief, yet the quiet in Sam's mind now hummed with something else entirely. A wall, smooth and impenetrable, blocked my usual effortless glide into his thoughts.
He walked beside me, his long brown hair catching the silver light. His hand, warm and firm, rested on the small of my back, a familiar anchor. Yet, the usual open current of his emotions, the steady thrum of his being, was muted, distant.
"Rough trip, but we are home, little mate?" Sam's voice rumbled low, a sound that usually smoothed the worry from my brow. But his gaze, those blue depths that mirrored my own soul, held a guarded quality I couldn't decipher.
I stopped at the threshold, the massive oak doors looming before us. My hand lifted to his cheek. The skin beneath my palm was cool. "Rough? No. Peaceful. Healing. But you, my mate… You are a closed book."
He chuckled, a sound without genuine mirth. "Just tired, Eva. Long few days." His thumb stroked my hip.
"Tired you might be, but your mind is a fortress. That's new." My eyes narrowed, searching. He simply offered a placid smile, too perfect, too unrevealing. My gaze swept over the others trailing behind us. Vincent, his dark curls a shadowy halo in the dim light, walked with an uncharacteristic spring in his step. Vlad, usually prone to dramatic sighs and complaints after travel, looked almost serene. Eric, ever the picture of quiet composure, kept his expression carefully blank. Even Bael's usually mischievous glint seemed to be muted, replaced by a subtle, knowing smirk. Brandon, perpetually cocky, carried himself with an air of secret satisfaction.
Something was off.
Inside, the house felt too still, too expectant. The others who lived here and next door were nowhere in sight. The air hung thick with an unspoken secret. My mates dispersed, each offering brief, vague reasons for their immediate retreat—a shower, a late-night snack, a book. Sam kissed my forehead, a quick brush of lips that offered no opening to his carefully guarded thoughts, before disappearing down the hall.
I found Eric in the library, his back to me, ostensibly reorganizing a shelf of leather-bound volumes. The spines, usually pristine, were slightly askew. He loved order. This minor disarray screamed.
"Eric." My voice, though soft, made him flinch. He turned, a book clasped in his hand. His short black hair was disheveled, as if he'd run his fingers through it countless times.
"Eva." His smile was too wide, too bright.
"Something is wrong." I didn't pose it as a question.
He tilted his head, feigning confusion. "Wrong? Nothing is wrong. The trip was a success, wasn't it? You feel better."
"I do. But you all act like someone died again, only this time you're celebrating it. And you're lying to me." I moved closer, my gaze fixed on his. "You, Sam, Vincent, Vlad, Bael, Brandon. Your thoughts are shielded. Every single one of you. That's never happened. Not to this extent."
He sighed, the forced cheer draining from his features, replaced by a weary resignation. "We're just… exhausted. And perhaps a little introspective after everything."
"Introspective? Or hiding something?" My voice sharpened. "Are you planning a surprise?"
He immediately shook his head. "No. No surprise. Well, not in the way you're thinking." A quick, nervous glance darted to the door.
"What way am I thinking, Eric?" I crossed my arms, my patience wearing thin. "Are you trying to tell me there is a surprise, but you can't tell me because it's supposed to be good?"
He cleared his throat. "It's good, Eva. Trust us. It's for you. For all of us." He took a step back, gesturing vaguely to the room. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really should organize these… they're a mess."
I watched him turn back to the shelves, his movements jerky, uncharacteristic. The books remained untouched. My eyes scanned the room, landing on a small, glittering object half-hidden beneath a stack of old maps. I strode over and plucked it out. A miniature silver stork, clutched in its beak a tiny, perfect diamond. A baby charm. My gaze snapped back to Eric. He froze, his shoulders stiff.
"A baby charm, Eric?" My voice was low, dangerous. "What, exactly, is this for?"
His face flushed. "Just a… trinket. A souvenir, perhaps."
"Souvenir from what, the baby store?" I held it up, the diamond winking in the library's subdued light. "You know I hate surprises, Eric. They make me nervous. They make me anticipate the worst."
"This one, you will love," he insisted, his voice tight. "You have to trust us, Eva. This is truly… special." He offered another unconvincing smile. "Now, if you'd like to retire, I can have some tea brought up."
"Don't bother." I tucked the charm into my pocket. "I'll get to the bottom of this, Eric. You can count on it."
I left him standing amidst his disheveled books, a silent promise hanging in the air. The strange atmosphere followed me as I made my way to the kitchen, a craving for something warm and real settling deep in my gut. As I pushed through the swinging door, a burst of high-pitched laughter assaulted my ears. Katie.
She stood by the large island, a whirlwind of cheerful chaos. Her usually neat ponytail was coming undone, strands escaping in joyful abandon around her flushed face. She hummed a tune I couldn't place, a giddy, light melody. My gaze fell upon her hands. She was holding a stack of fabric, vibrant hues of pink and blue.
"Katie." My voice was flat, devoid of emotion.
She jumped, spinning around, a wide, innocent smile plastered across her face. "Eva! You're back! How was the island? Oh, you look so refreshed! And rested! Did you miss me? I missed you!" She moved to hug me, her embrace tighter than usual, bordering on desperate. Has she been replaced by an alien overnight? I know that the battle tested us all, but to make everyone become a different person? No, no, it couldn’t have done that, could it?
I pulled back slightly, holding her at arm's length. "Katie, what exactly are you doing?" My eyes scanned the array on the island: balloons, streamers, tiny wrapped boxes, all in pastel shades.
Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, then returned with renewed vigor. "Oh, just… preparing for a little get-together! A celebration! We haven't had one in ages, have we?"
"A get-together?" My gaze dropped to the fabric she still clutched. My eyes narrowed. "Are those… onesies?"
She giggled, a sound that grated on my nerves. "Maybe! They're so cute, aren't they? Tiny little things!"
"And the balloons? The streamers? The tiny wrapped boxes? This looks suspiciously like a party, Katie."