Page 28 of Craving Carla

But I can feel them, my children. All of them. I sigh because we had an agreement. They are supposed to stay on our land until we’ve received permission from King Amir to return to the patrol cabin—which, I’ve heard supernaturals in the market say they plan to burn once I’m relieved of my duties.

I want to go back into the shadows so bad right now.

“Carla...” Amari starts, but I hold my hand up, silencing him.

“Moria...” I murmur, only calling for her. This is her moment, not theirs. I’m going home after this so I can cry and sulk over the fact that I’m going to be alone forever. That’s a cold, hard fact I need to accept. Or, I can dry my tears and visit the market to try to find a nice dress for my date with Ackley.

I don’t have to call for her twice. Moria suddenly appears from a tree, looking almost identical to Amari’s little friend, but smaller in size. She walks past me and stops, sending images into my mind. Grateful images. She’s thanking me for praying to Fate for her.

I watch as she approaches Amari’s little friend. They greet each other in the way that spiders do, their legs joining together, their bodies vibrating slightly. There’s a moment of silence between them, and both Amari and I know they’re connected. Amari looks up at me, and I see that same damn pity in his eyes.

“Carla...” he begins, but I stop him before he can continue.

“I’m gonna go home. I think I’ve had enough for today,” I tell him firmly. “And before you start, Amari, I am happy for bothof my children. I prayed to Mother Fate for this union. I’m just grappling with the fact that I am alone. Moria knows how to be safe and how to get home. I will find you tomorrow.”

I turn away and start the path back home, but I can feel Amari on my trail, his presence pressing at my back. It frustrates me to the point that I stop and turn around, glaring at him. He halts a few feet away, his expression still soft and concerned. Where did the smug asshole go? I almost want him back instead of this sympathetic version.

“I don’t like seeing you hurting, Carla. Let me walk you home. Be a listening ear, please,” he offers, his voice gentle.

“That’s what I don’t want!” I shout at him, tears streaming down my face again. “I just want to be alone. I don’t want pity, and I don’t want a listening ear. I’ll be fine in the morning. This isn’t the first time I’ve cried.”

I turn around and start walking again, but I hear his footsteps behind me. So I stop again, this time my fury building to a boiling point. I can feel my children following us in the shadows, but strangely, they don’t see Amari as a threat. It must be because of his connection to Little Friend.

I stop again, but this time, I don’t turn around.

“Amari, please. I beg you,” I say, my voice breaking. I hear him groan, the sound full of frustration. I can’t scent his mood like other supernaturals can, but I feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

The wind picks up suddenly, and when I finally turn around, he’s gone.

And just like that, I got what I wanted.

All it took was me being a salty, grumpy bitch. Mad because Fate didn’t choose me.

I start walking again, slower now. It feels like someone’s placed a heavy stone inside me. I try to focus on the positives—Moria found her mate after all this time. It’s what I prayedfor. And I have a date with Ackley to look forward to. A chance at something, even if it’s not the cosmic connection every other supernatural gets to experience.

But the jealousy still gnaws at me. Why does everyone else get a perfect match, a fated mate, and I get nothing? Why am I the one supernatural born without the fated scent? What makes me so different, so unworthy?

I find myself heading toward my cabin in the woods, the small structure King Amir built for me. It’s a beautiful place, far more than I deserve, with a separate enclosure for my children to nest comfortably. But right now, it feels like a prison—another reminder that I exist apart from everyone else.

When I reach the clearing where my cabin sits, I pause. Something doesn’t feel right. The air is too still, too quiet. My senses go on high alert, and I reach out with my mind, trying to connect with any of my children nearby.

Nothing.

Then I see him, leaning against the door frame of my cabin, his suit making him look like a shadow brought to life.

Amari.

“How did you—” I start, but he cuts me off with a wave of his hand.

“Vampire speed has its advantages,” he says, his voice casual as if we’re discussing the weather. “You can be alone in your cabin, but I’m not letting you walk home alone when you’re upset.”

“Why do you care?” I ask, the words coming out harsher than I intend.

He studies me for a long moment, his eyes unreadable. “I don’t know,” he admits finally. “But I do. And it’s annoying the hell out of me.”

I almost laugh at that. At least he’s being honest.

“Well, you’ve fulfilled your gentlemanly duty. I’m home safe. You can go now,” I tell him, walking past him to my door.

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