Page 86 of Reaper's Pack

Yet giving in to whatever we had, this connection between the four of us, made me weak-kneed and uncertain. Happy too. Thrilled, actually, to consider the bond solidifying between myself and the boys.

But…

“Oh, just go, Hazel,” I muttered. I couldn’t put it off any longer. Ignoring the whispering ripple that shuddered along the celestial plane, I teleported away from the park in the blink of an eye. Made a pit stop at the ward. Crossed through that and sealed it up. Just the sight of the forest brought a rush of fire to my whole body, memories of Knox, so masterful and domineering and good, knocking the wind out of me. Clinging to my scythe, my one consistency, I materialized in the alpha’s bedroom.

Where I found an empty space and a dying fire. Downstairs, cutlery clinked, and the tap water ran; swallowing hard, I teleported down to the kitchen, appearing suddenly enough to make Declan drop the plates in his hands.

“Hazel!” Midway between the island and the sink, the stack of ceramic hit the tile with earth-shattering force, disintegrating into a hundred little pieces at Declan’s feet. Knox and Gunnar were at the island, the alpha in his usual spot lording over everything, Gunnar at the opposite end picking through whatever was left in the breadbasket after the meal. Such a little breadcrumb vulture, that one. Both stared up at me with the same startled expression as Declan, only Knox was the first to bounce back.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he demanded, rounding the island and stalking over to me. If we were perfect strangers, the sheer size of him would have sent me running. But I knew him. I knew him better now than I did twenty-four hours ago, so I held my ground, scythe at my side, refusing to be bullied.

Gunnar rose to his feet at the island, his regal features twisted into something unreadable.

“I… needed time to think,” I said slowly. While I didn’t scuttle to the other side of the kitchen or hide behind Declan, I still leaned away from Knox’s towering figure, especially when his eyes narrowed.

Hard to believe that just this morning those black orbs had been soft as liquid gold when I’d kissed his cheek at my bedroom door.

“Have you any idea how worried we were about you?” the alpha pressed, the depth of his snarl making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I finally planted my scythe between us, just for a little added security, and shook my head.

“What?”

I’d left the property dozens of times in the last two and a half months—my absence wasn’t a cause for alarm. Peeking around the mountain of a man in front of me, I looked from Gunnar to Declan for an explanation and found the latter silently picking up the largest pieces of broken plate. He too wore an expression that I couldn’t quite read, his dark brown eyebrows furrowed, his beestung lips pursed in a concerned frown. Huffing, I snapped my fingers, and in an instant the plates materialized next to the sink, whole and intact, the floor around him spotless.

“That thing followed us to the club last night,” Gunnar told me, and my belly bottomed out at the news. “I pursued him, but he disappeared through another portal.”

“Oh” was the best I could manage, my already too-full brain sluggishly working through the news under Knox’s accusatory glare. “Well. No one told me that—”

“We would have had you been here this morning,” the alpha remarked tightly. When our eyes met, I couldn’t help wondering if he was just annoyed that I’d, what, disappeared on him after last night? He eased to the side, finally allowing the others access to me without a wall of alpha muscle in the way. “Instead, we found an empty bed and nothing.”

Yeah. Maybe a little bitter, but worried overall. I practically felt it, the concern tainting the air around us. Sure, anger mixed in there too, but every one of his features suggested his harsh tone came from a genuine place.

And that made me feel things.

A lot of things, actually. My eyes prickled with tears at the mere thought that Knox was so worked up about my safety…

“Okay, well, I’m fine,” I insisted, hating that Gunnar didn’t look like he believed me, that he shared his alpha’s infuriated concern over my well-being. And Declan… He looked torn between hurt and relief, his feelings out in the open as he leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed. At no point did he glance my way or meet my gaze, and that stung. “I didn’t know about the demon, or whatever he is, but I only felt a weird little ripple toward the end of the day, before I left the park, and—”

“What were you doing at the park?” Knox tipped his head to the side, making up for Declan’s lack of eye contact by never once taking his eyes off me. It was a welcome change of pace, all this concern rather than blatant disdain, but I had survived for ten long years on my own as a reaper; I didn’t need to be monitored.

“This third-degree inquiry is a bit ridiculous,” I said tightly. “It’s none of your business.”

Knox scoffed. “You are our business, reaper.”

The notion carried between all three of them, in the slight lift of Gunnar’s brows to the little nod from Declan.

“Right.” I’d be the biggest asshole on the planet if I threw that back in their faces—especially when I no longer questioned it for a second. “Look, I’m sorry. Really. I get it. I just needed some time to think. The trials are coming up in a couple weeks, then this guy is clearly following us around, and… and… us…”

Mouth set in a thin line, Knox brushed my hair away from my neck, exposing the bright red mark he had left there. I flinched out of reach and dragged my hair back over my shoulder, hiding it away, and crossed to the island.

“What about us?” Declan asked, his words soft and uncertain. Planting my scythe beside me, I licked my lips and scanned the measly supper leftovers—procrastinating, again.

“Yes, do go on, Hazel…” Gunnar settled on his stool and threaded his fingers together, then steepled them in front of his smirking mouth. “What about us?”

Three expectant gazes settled on me like a ton of bricks, the pressure slowly but surely crushing me into the floor. Confusion churned in my belly, made my mouth dry, and I picked at the little bits of leftover—grossly overcooked—steak strips on the serving platter in the middle of the island.

“I… I don’t know, okay?” The weight refused to lift, resting squarely on my shoulders as all three hellhounds waited for something better than indecision. Heck, I needed something more than indecision, but clarity had evaded me all fucking day. “I’ve never been in this situation before.”

“And what situation is that?” Knox asked gruffly, lingering right where I’d left him between the island and the door. I popped the bit of steak in my mouth and chewed for a thousand years—yep, definitely overcooked. Had Gunnar shouldered Declan out of the way at the stove again?

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