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Timebound

Page 235

by Sara Samuels

Then, his voice broke with emotion.

“Dad, you saved me. And now you’ve healed me! Thank you!” His voice cracked. “All these years, I thought you didn’t care?—”

“Shut the fuck up, you idiot,” Balthazar roared, the walls shaking with the force of his fury.

I flinched, instinctively pressing deeper into the shadows.

“You are the biggest imbecile, but I will always care for you. It’s my job.”

His job.

The words echoed, ringing with an unnatural importance.

Before I could even process that revelation, Balthazar suddenly threw back his head and bellowed?—

“Marcellious! Get down here!”

A wave of panic crashed through me.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I had to get out.

If he caught me with his dagger, I was alreadydead.

I inched backward, retreating down the hallway, my muscles coiled for flight.

“Marcellious!” Balthazar’s voice was a thunderclap, shaking the very foundations of the house.

As I moved forward, I forced my footsteps to be loud, ensuring they echoed off the walls.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

I ruffled my hair, yanking one end of my shirt from my waistband, trying to appear like I’d been wrenched from sleep.

Then, with deliberate clumsiness, I stomped down the stairs, each step louder than necessary, my body language screaming annoyance at being disturbed.

When I reached the bottom, I faked a massive yawn, stretching my arms as if I could barely keep my eyes open.

“What is it, my lord?” I drawled.

Balthazar said nothing.

He only glared, his eyes black pits of fury.

I ignored the growing weight of his silence, gazing at the young man beside him. I cocked my head, letting my lip curl in mock amusement.

“And who’s this?” I asked, gesturing toward him. “Is this the pathetic son you’ve occasionally mentioned?”

I barely saw Balthazar move before his hand was around my throat.

One second, I was standing?—

The next, my back hit the wall, my windpipe caged in his vice-like grip.

“You son of a bitch,” he snarled. “Don’t you ever speak to my offspring that way?”

His fingers tightened, cutting off my airflow.