Page 178 of May: Bloom & Bane

Father.

Eden stirs, so I retract my shadow before her warmth can tempt me to stay. I leave them both in the quiet light of the moon. Where the monster cannot touch them.

CHAPTER 51

laundry vampire

—EDEN

Ihave officially lost four tank tops, two cardigans, and my favorite dress so far this week. At first, I thought I was losing my mind. Pregnancy brain, I told myself. But four tank tops? Two cardigans? And my favorite dress?

No. Something is happening to my wardrobe. And I have a sneaking suspicion it has everything to do with the way Sage’s pupils blow wide every time I ask him about it.

“Sage!” I pull open another empty drawer. “Have you seen my green sweatshirt? The soft one?”

“Green sweatshirt? Never seen it,” he calls from the bathroom.

“You told me two days ago how good it looked on me.” I narrow my eyes at the doorway.

“The, ah, details are hazy.”

A second later, he walks into the bedroom. His gorgeous, green wings half-tucked against his back to clear the frame. He looks so majestic—too bad he’s a liar.

“You look very beautiful in many things, luváel,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into a low, raspy register in a blatant attempt to distract me. “Perhaps it’s in the wash?”

“Nothing’s in the wash.” I cross my arms. “Because there’s nothing to wash, since my laundry is apparently being eaten by tiny clothes-eating gnomes.”

His wing gives a sharp twitch, and he clears his throat, a purple flush creeping up his neck.

“A mystery indeed,” he mutters.

He is a terrible liar.

Normally, this is when Ash would chime in and tell Sage to quit lying, or make a filthy comment about my clothes looking better on the floor. But he’s been silent for three days now.

I miss him so much. I can’t help but wonder what this pregnancy will be like if he doesn’t come back.

“Eden.” Sage cups my face in his warm hands, his thumbs tracing over my cheekbones. “He’s going to come back,” he says, as if he can read my mind.

“I know,” I lie.

Sage’s eyes soften, a ripple of sadness and understanding passes through the bond. He presses a long kiss to my forehead, white poppies blooming throughout his hair. “Rest now. Let the gnomes worry about the laundry.”

“I know it’s you!” I yell up the stairs.

“It’s who?” Sage calls down.

“You, Sage! That’s who!”

I stomp up the steps, ignoring the way Nook hums with a guilty vibration. It has been six days—six days of watching my wardrobe vanish into thin air.

When I reach the top landing, the bedroom door is wide open. His lips are sealed over the chest section of my favorite sweater, his cheeks hollowing as he draws on the fabric. My jaw drops as I catch him in the act.

“You,” I breathe, pointing a finger at him.

“You’ve got the wrong idea. I just pulled these out of Droot’s paw.”

Big Bird is a liar. Droot giggles, pulsing a neon shade of yellow.