Chapter 22

Meadow’s POV

The crash of the ceramic plates against the marble floor made me flinch, and I cursed as the pieces scattered around me. I froze like a deer caught in headlights.

Mel gasped, nearly dropping the pan she was holding. “Stay still!” she barked, already rushing toward a door in the corner of the kitchen. “You’re barefoot, Meadow. Don’t take another step.”

I nodded quickly as my muscles tensed. And when I remembered that Alaric was only a few feet away, I turned around to look at him.

But that was a bad idea.

God, I was full of bad ideas lately.

As I shifted, I stepped on a slick piece of porcelain, and I slipped.

I gasped, my arms flailing as they tried to reach for something—anything—that would ground me, but there was nothing. However, I didn’t hit the floor.

Alaric’s strong hands caught me before gravity did.

“Fucking hell, Meadow,” he cursed as he took me into his arms, lifting me off my feet and ste