Page 95 of What We Don't Say: Part Two

His face breaks.

“Yes.” The word comes out rough enough that Theo’s fingers tighten around mine. Sloane shifts closer, his eyes wet and unguarded. “Especially me.”

He lifts the chain from the box and holds it across his palm. “You’ll always have your no, Callie. Even from me. Especially from me.”

I stare at him until his features blur. He’s giving me something that assumes his love should never require blind trust in his perfection.

“Put it on me,” I say.

Sloane’s hands shake as I turn my back to him. Theo stays pressed against my side while Dash moves to sit on my other side, close enough that his thigh touches mine. Idris' hand slidesaround my waist from behind the couch, grounding without holding me still. The chain brushes my collarbones as Sloane reaches around me, his breath warm against my nape.

His fingers fumble once at the clasp. I feel the moment his knuckle touches the old bite in my shoulder. The mark wakes beneath his hand, Sloane’s breath catching hard enough that I hear it.

He fastens the necklace, then stays behind me. The moonstone settles in the hollow of my throat. A faint vibration passes through it as the mechanism wakes, so light I might have mistaken it for my pulse if I hadn’t been waiting.

Sloane bends his head, his mouth touching the back of my neck in one slow kiss, then another. He doesn’t retreat after fastening the chain. His palms slide around my waist, and he draws me back against his chest while his lips move along my skin.

I lean into him and for a few breaths, I’m held inside all of them.

After dinner, Idris brings out another present. He waits until we’re gathered in the living room again, though the formality has faded. Theo is half across my lap. Sloane sits beside me with his hand resting beneath the hem of my shirt at my waist. Dash is on the floor near my knees, leaning back against the couch, and Idris lowers himself into the chair opposite us with a second box in his hand.

The bracelet is slender, made from dark metal with four small inlaid sections spaced around the band. Each section is a different shade of pale glass, subtle enough that the piece looks like jewelry until Idris touches one of the matching rings on his right hand.

One segment glows as I look from the bracelet to his ring. “That’s all it does?”

“That’s all.” Idris holds my gaze. “I chose the four paired pieces and had the bracelet sized for you. Each of them has a paired piece. When someone touches theirs, the corresponding section on your bracelet lights. It doesn’t tell us where you are. It doesn’t tell us what you’re doing. It gives us no information about you.”

“Then why give it to me?”

His expression changes, the control in it softening enough for me to see the grief underneath. “Because there may be moments when words are difficult. Silence should never make you believe we’ve stopped choosing you.”

I have to look down. Theo’s hand moves over my wrist before Idris can fasten the bracelet. He traces each section with one fingertip, already fascinated. Sloane’s palm tightens at my waist. Dash shifts near my knees, the movement bringing his shoulder against my leg.

Idris kneels in front of me and closes the bracelet around my wrist. His fingers linger over my pulse before he turns my hand and presses a kiss to the inside of it.

Theo touches the small paired pendant hanging at his throat.

His section lights immediately.

The glow reflects faintly against his warm brown fingers, and his smile is so open that I pull him higher into my lap and kiss him. He curls against me with a pleased sound, one hand still closed around the pendant as though letting go might turn the light into something less real.

Sloane touches the slim band on his finger next.

His section glows, and he leaves his thumb pressed against the band while watching my face. I reach for him, curling my hand into his shirt and pulling him close enough to kiss. His mouth meets mine with immediate hunger, his hand sliding around mywaist as though he has been waiting all evening for permission to stop behaving.

Idris' light comes on when he rises.

He draws me from the couch and into his lap before I’ve fully understood what he intends. One arm closes around my waist, and his mouth settles below the moonstone, kissing the sensitive hollow of my throat while the bracelet glows against my wrist.

Dash’s hand moves to my shoulder from behind the chair.

His paired piece is a dark cuff at his wrist. His section lights when his thumb brushes it, soft and pale beside the others, and something in my chest turns over.

I reach back and catch his hand before he can withdraw.

Dash leans down, pushing my hair aside with his free hand before kissing the curve of my shoulder. Sloane remains close enough that his palm rests on my hip. Theo presses against my knee. Idris keeps me settled in his lap with his mouth warm beneath the necklace.

The attention gathers until I can feel it everywhere.