Page 100 of Between Imminent Fates

There was a startling lack of color in Utah. Unlike Missouri, where a summer day could bring any number of colors, the desert seemed mostly made up of reds and creams. If Celeste had had her camera, she would’ve been out all day taking pictures, trying to find the best spots and the perfect tree. Photography had always been a passion of hers, and her clan lands had been her favorite location. A half smile began curving her lips until she realized it was no longer home.

Missouri would likely never be home again, especially if Nina wouldn’t wake up. In her heart, she realized that the blood-soaked ground would feel different when she’d come to accept what had happened.

The clatter of a pan had her eyes drawing up and to the door of Derikles’ guest bedroom. Though Raeths typically only needed four hours of sleep on any given day, she’d slept almost nine last night. The sun was already shining.

Derikles must’ve noticed she was up.

He had a keen mind. The more time she spent with him, the easier she saw past his introverted and reserved nature. It was in sharp contrast to the vibrant swirls of ink on his skin and the gages in his ears. His body art spoke loudly, even if he didn’t.

Celeste couldn’t believe she’d broken down last night. At the first inkling of empathy, she’d blubbered like a hormonal teenager.

Choosing her favorite outfit—fishnets, the sleek purple corset that she adored, and a black miniskirt—she softly padded out toward the source of sound.

The hungry, heated look he gave her was worth any crying she’d done last night.

He wore a graphic tee, large black lettering spanning over white, and a pair of casual sweatpants that hung low on his waist. Sleep ruffled, his chocolate-brown hair looked as though he’d run a hand through it and couldn’t be bothered to set it to rights.

He looked positively delectable, and her tongue snaked out to lick her lips.

“Sleep well?”

“Surprisingly well, all things considered. It’s been a while since I got that much rest.” Then, she narrowed her eyes speculatively. “I don’t usually sleep away the day, just in case you were wondering.”

“Noted.”

Finally able to take her eyes off the man, she made a show of appraising his kitchen. The cabinetry was a surprising shade of ocean blue, matching the backsplash, but the counters and island were black and stainless steel. It was sleek, modern, and entirely too clean.

“Do you ever eat in here, or is it just for show?”

“Are you asking if I prefer fast food or can actually chop onions?” He chuckled and motioned for her to take a seat while he pulled a box from the cupboard. “Neither, actually. I detest fast food, and I can’t chop an onion without becoming a sobbing mess.”

“Same.” She set her elbows on the countertop. “How in the world do you ever keep all this stainless steel clean?”

“Magic.”

She studied him while he turned on the stove. “Would you rather be trapped in a room with snakes or spiders?”

“Back to that are we?”

“Well, I assume you’re making breakfast.” A casual, one shoulder shrug. “The polite thing to do would be to make conversation.”

Looking up from whisking pancake batter, he asked, “Why do I get the feeling that isn’t your modus operandi?”

“Making conversation?”

“Being polite.”

“Probably because you’re far keener than the average bear.”

The Raeth threw her a mocking expression. “Much experience with bears, then?”

“Answer the question.” Celeste gave herself a good mental shake to stop flirting … too much.

One pancake, two. Three.

“Snakes,” he finally said. “I’d much rather be tangled up with boas and rattlers than with a black widow. Spiders are vicious; they could care less if you drop dead ten feet away. What about you?”

“We’re not talking about me.”

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