a dumb question, but I have no idea what else to say. Are you alright?”
Sally could feel his breath on her neck where he’d tucked his head. Then his lips pressed against her skin in a gentle, reverent kiss. She opened the bond enough so they could feel one another, but she kept the memories completely shielded.
“I’m better,” she said honestly. “I won’t lie. I’m in pain. But I’m here now, and that makes everything better.”
Ten minutes passed before Costin finally released her. Then Titus let go and sat down on his bottom, legs crossed, and looked up at her. His little face was so innocent, but his eyes were filled with knowledge that no child should have.
“Are you okay, little man?” she asked him as she reached out a hand and brushed his hair back from his forehead.
“I was worried about you,” Titus said. “But I knew you would be back. The angel said she’s not done with you yet and that you have much to do in this world.”
Sally wasn’t sure she felt happy about that. She was tired. Costin must have caught that thought because his head snapped up, and his glowing eyes bored into hers.
“I’m just tired,” she said, hoping to reassure him. “And yes, I will tell you what happened, but you have to understand that as much as you want to protect me, I want to protect you just as much.”
“I know,” he answered out loud. “And I do understand that. But please, talk to me. Don’t have those thoughts and not share them with me. We bear this together. That’s how true mates are meant to be.”
She nodded and willed herself not to shed any tears. Not yet. There was too much to figure out to give in to an emotional breakdown right now. There was no way in any version of hell that she was going back to that room and allow them to stick that sadistic machine back on her. They were going to get out of this compound, come hell or highwater.
Sally looked back at Titus. “I love you, and I’m proud of you. You’ve been so strong through all of this.”
“I cried,” Titus admitted, and her heart broke a little more. “I missed you.”
“Awe, baby.” Sally pulled him into her arms. “I missed you, too. Always.”
She held him as her eyes met Costin’s, and she saw that the glow had faded a bit. He simply stared at her, as though he was afraid if he looked away, she would disappear. It reminded her of the way he’d stared at her when she’d first come home from Ocean Side, and it made her stomach turn. Sally didn’t want to retain any memories from that time, but she also knew she would be a fool to attempt to forget the past. The past was something that should be learned from, no matter how horrific, rather than erased. It was a part of her. It made her stronger, even as it made her feel vulnerable.
There was a knock on the wall, a patterned knock, and she couldn’t help but smile. Titus scurried from her arms and over to the wall and began knocking back. Sally’s eyes widened as she looked at her mate. “You taught him morse code?”
Costin shrugged as he reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. “It kept us both occupied. Jen is a good friend.”
Sally smiled. She realized from the emotions coming through their bond that Jen was a big reason Costin was sitting across from her, sane instead of feral. “She’s a damn good friend.”
“Aunt Jen said someone better tell her what the hell is going on,” Titus said in his sternest voice, as if he felt the need to speak on her behalf rather than just relay her message.
Costin grabbed Sally’s hand as he stood and pulled her up. He walked over to the wall, with her in tow, and began knocking a response. “I’m telling her you’re back, safe and sound.” He paused and stared down at her. “Relatively safe and sound,” he corrected.
There was more knocking from the other side, and Titus gasped. He shook his little head. “I can’t repeat that. I already got in trouble for using those words.”
Sally smiled, and it felt so freaking good. “It’s probably best to never repeat anything Aunt Jen says.”
Titus grinned. “That’s the same thing daddy said.”
“What did she say?” Sally asked. “And censor it, please.”
Costin pulled her closer to him. She knew he wasn’t