Winter's Scars: The Forsaken (Winter's Saga #5)

“It’s carved into our backs—I figured you’d remember that number.” Meg offered one more sincere look before she clipped her facial expression to stoic and confident.

The car stopped and the large driver came around to open the door. In an act of defiance, Meg pushed the door open herself and gracefully exited the car. She didn’t look to see Gideon’s eyes turn into Sirus’, but she already knew they would. The lights around the elaborate porch were lit and cast bizarre shadows on the stately gray cement steps Meg took confidently. Looking around she felt for a glimmer of recognition from herself, but felt nothing.

The front door swung wide and out walked a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, strikingly handsome and had an air of intensity about himself.

“Welcome home, Naya. How was the trip?” His lips pulled back in what was supposed to be a genuine smile.

“Memorable,” Meg quipped as she ignored his outstretched arms, and walked past him directly into the grand foyer.

“Yes, well,” the Senator nodded graciously at her ill manners and stared after her—watching her look around her new surroundings. Sirus stood at attention awaiting orders.

“Sirus,” Arkdone beckoned the metamonarch to his side. “I expect a full report on my desk in exactly one hour. Tell me everything that happened from the time she awakened until now. Clear?”

“Clear,” Sirus’ voice matched Arkdone’s in its hushed quality.

He moved away from the soldier, dismissing him with a wave of his hand and turned his full attention back to the girl who was now running her fingers over a freshly painted wall.

“Yes, well, I’ve recently done some remodeling. This entire foyer, for example, was completely redone. Do you remember this space, Naya?”

“I would appreciate your calling me ‘Meg,’ Senator.” The girl turned and stared with intensity at the man who, until that moment, had been walking toward her. He stopped and tilted his head slightly as he studied her.

“What do you remember about this place?” he asked without acknowledging her request.

“Nothing,” she answered simply.

“Do you remember me?” he asked.

“No.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he asked pointedly.

Without missing a beat Meg answered, “While I am sure we have much to discuss, it is late and I’ve had a very,” she paused to choose her word carefully, “taxing day. Would you be willing to continue this conversation tomorrow morning?”

“I apologize,” the Senator’s eyes eased over her body then back up, “you do look tired. I’ll show you to your room. Shall I have Eloise, the housemaid, bring you something to eat so you’ll sleep restfully?”

“No, thank you. I’m too tired to eat.”

“As you wish.” The bow slightly, as though it were second nature to him, like he’d lived for a long while in a culture to which that custom was the norm.

Meg watched as he turned and beckoned her to follow him down a corridor to the right of two grand staircases. “Your room is just down this hall, the fourth door on the left. You’ll find it is more a suite in that it has both sitting and powder rooms.”

The Senator opened the bedroom door with a flourish and stepped aside so Meg could walk in. The room was decorated with old-world opulence, but what struck Meg wasn’t the lavishness of the room, it was the color: blood red. Heavily hooded lamps cast warm glows throughout the room.

“I do hope it is to your liking?” Arkdone asked subtly. He watched her from the corner of his eye, enjoying the thinly disguised anxiousness he saw there.

“It’s fine,” she swallowed.

“Good. Then I will leave you to rest and look forward to seeing you in the morning. Breakfast is served promptly at seven. I must insist you attend.” The Senator waited for a sign of acknowledgment from the girl.

Meg turned in silence and eyed him suspiciously.

“To rebuild your muscles, you must eat plenty of healthy foods,” he added to soften his demand.

Meg simply nodded once and turned away from the Senator who started to leave, closing the door to her room behind him.

“Oh, and Meg?”

Meg looked warily toward the Senator.

“Please understand that while you are a guest, you must adhere to the rules of the hospital. While I do act as Senator to the great state of Kentucky, I am also the head counselor at this facility and must maintain the compound in the best interest of my patients—despite guests.”

Meg frowned, thinking his words were just cryptic enough to be scary.

The Senator nodded once and finished closing the door to her new room behind him. Meg stood alone in the blood red room, feeling exhaustion and terror fight equally for her attentions.

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