Chapter Twenty-Six
AudenWhen I wake, I have a moment where I’ve forgotten everything since Beltane, and there’s only a warm curl of satisfaction in my chest as I open my eyes to see two submissives asleep in my bed. We’d showered after talking, and then Saint—without any prompting from me—had climbed naked into bed, and we’d cuddled Poe between us, letting the rain lull us into a cozy, snuggly sleep.
It’s only as I roll over and register wet leaves stuck to the window—buttery gold and startling crimson—that I remember it’s October and that maybe St. Sebastian is my brother and that my best friend is sick with something that might kill her.
I remember that the door is open.
I push myself to a sitting position and look over at my lovers. Poe is a lush sprawl of sleep—deeper sleep than
