Book 14: Who the F I Am

Maeve

I wake to total darkness, shooting upright as my heart thunders in my chest. I rarely dream, but I felt… uneasy, to say the least, about something that now I can’t fully remember. I reach up to rub my eyes, exhaling, then inhaling deeply before going completely rigid as the events of the last several hours come back to me in a rush.

I fly out of bed–at least, I roll–stumbling into a pair of slippers while cradling the swell of my belly and groping in the dark for my robe. There’s a slight chill in the late winter air as I rush out of the bedroom, sliding around the sharp corner into the living room where a single lamp is on, illuminating the two figures sitting around the fireplace, which has burned down to embers.

Soren lifts his head to look at me, his eyes dark and details blurred by the shadows. Patton rises, the frantic look in his eyes softening as he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I obviously just interrupted a tense conversa