"How long are you going to stay here?" Sabastian appeared next to me on the patio in the garden of my childhood home.
I stared out at the flowers Miranna, my father's mate planted that summer after my fifteenth birthday. "When are you going to stop popping up here?"
Sabastian had a habit of coming to this place when he was bored. Our bond had gotten stronger. Now, he acted as if this haven was his to enter whenever he felt like it. I could not even control how to enter and exit his. Yet, he was a professional at trespassing into my consciousness.
He leaned back, stretching out his legs. "We have several hours before we get to the gate. You have to wake up. No one is going to bother carrying you there."
I rolled my eyes. "That doesn't answer my question."
