Page 39 of The Fated Mate Bandit

I smile. Just like that, I’m his brother again.

Sure. That’s fine.

He sends a smiley emoji.

I send the same text to Coin, Link, and Tin. Coin responds first.

Hey, Lucas. It’s good to hear from you.

Link responds with a picture of Terrance wearing a bright pink feather boa.Check out what I found dumpster diving today.

I laugh. What a goofball.

Another text from Quin pops up on my screen, but this one was sent to four other people.

Guess what? I added Lucas to our group chat! Say hi!

Three of the people I already have saved as contacts: Tin, Link, and Coin. That means the fourth number belongs to Silver.

I send a text to that number.

Hey, it’s me.

I hear footsteps coming down the hall. Silver walks into the bedroom with a big smile on his face. “Hey. I have your phone number now.”

I smile back at him. “Yeah.”

“Thank you, baby.”

It seems a little silly. We had sex last night and he bit my scent gland. Giving him my number should mean nothing after that. But Daryll carefully regulates my phone. That means I rarely give my number to anyone. Normally, when I get a text, I know it’s from him.

That won’t be true anymore.

“Are you ready for dinner?” I ask.

“Absolutely. It smells like heaven.” He holds his hand out to me, and I take it, allowing him to help me up.

My phone dings several times. I take a quick glance at it to see the brother group chat blowing up.

Coin: Welcome, Lucas.

Link: Hi!

Tin: Hello

Quin: Link, you have to be on your best behavior so we don’t scare him away.

Link: What do you mean? What do you think I’m going to do?

Coin: Share more photos of your dead turkey.

Link: Whatever. That glam shot of Terrance dressed up in his new scarf was a delight.

It’slike sunshine filling up my phone. I flip it to silent before sliding it into my back pocket. The buzzing that follows is still a little scary. One of those messages might be from Daryll. But it also might be Coin teasing Link in the brother chat or Quin weighing in on whether the Terrance photos are creepy.

Silver and I return to the kitchen where the big pot of stew is still steaming on the stove. I fill the two bowls I got out earlier and carry them over to the table with crocheted hot pads identical to the ones Ruby used to have in her kitchen. Her omega dad always gave her a stack of them at Christmas.

Silver grabs the spoons and glasses, which is nice. Daryll never helps set the table. He brings a loaf of Quin’s bread and a water pitcher to the table, too. In less than a minute, we’re ready to eat.

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