Page 44 of Craving Carla

“Amari is not my fated mate!” I snap, then groan, pressing my palms against my cheeks. “Don’t you want Mommy to be happy? Just for a little while? I can’t have anything real with Ackley. I know that—I’m not stupid. He’s human and I’m immortal. I just want to feel something—like a woman. After that, it’s back into the shadows with just you and me, just the way you like it.”

Their response is immediate—images of themselves huddled in a dark corner, feeling like burdens, thinking I’m miserable because of them.

“No, no, you don’t make me miserable,” I say quickly, my heart breaking. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I love you. I love all of you. You’re my babies. But Mommy deserves to be happy too. It’s just for one night. And I’m coming home. I won’t see Ackley again.”

I turn to leave, but they start following me again. I stop and face them, something hardening inside me.

“If you don’t let me go, if you ruin this for me, you will hurt me.” My voice cracks. “I am asking you for the bare minimum. One night. You can give Mommy one night.”

They freeze at my words, their massive bodies going completely still. I see them exchange glances with their multiple eyes, a silent conversation passing between them. The largest one—Tofi—sends me an image of them retreating, letting me go, but with a sense of deep worry attached to it.

They stop at my words, and I hate myself for manipulating them, but I’m desperate. There’s nothing wrong with being selfish, just this once. I take a sharp breath and turn around, heading for the bridge. This time they don’t follow, and despite getting what I wanted, a deep ache lingers. I just hurt my children, and it feels awful. I’ve never used their love for me against them before. What kind of mother does that?

I look up at the night sky, anger bubbling inside me. Mother Fate could have given me someone—someone to hold, someone to love—but instead, I’m walking through the forest like some desperate fool. It doesn’t take long to reach the bridge, and I pause once I get there, smoothing my hand over my forehead. It’s sweaty from nerves. Thankfully, I packed some toiletries to freshen up. The bridge is a five-mile walk, so I decide to head for the ferry to get a ride to the employee community, a gated areafor humans who work on the tourist island. The only problem is I’ll probably have to deal with Jax again.

“Need a ride?”

I cringe at the familiar voice. Amari. I pause at the bridge, wondering if I should just say fuck it and walk the five miles.

“Absolutely not,” I snap, turning around, groaning when I notice Damon standing beside him.

“Did you think I was joking when I said you would be chaperoned on this date?” Damon questions, flipping that damn coin in his hand. His voice is calm but there’s a steel underneath it that I’ve rarely heard directed at me. He’s not playing around. The way he stands—shoulders squared, eyes fixed on mine—tells me this isn’t a suggestion or a friendly offer. It’s happening whether I like it or not.

I clutch my tote bag and storm over to them. Amari’s eyes travel up and down my body, drinking me in. But it’s different from the way other men have looked at me in the past—the few times anyone has looked at me at all. It’s not just lust or curiosity or disgust. There’s appreciation there, yes, but also something deeper, more intense. Like he’s memorizing every detail of me, from my wild curls to the freckles on my nose to the curves of my hips. No one has ever looked at me that way before, like I’m something precious and rare.

“You look lovely, Carla,” he says, and it’s hard not to blush. The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. How does he do that? One minute he’s the most infuriating being on the planet, and the next he’s making me feel like the most beautiful woman in existence.

“You can’t chaperone me. You’ll ruin the date,” I argue.

“Not if we remain out of view,” Damon says, his tone calm, casual.

I can tell already I’m not getting out of this, and it’s pissing me off. Damon is getting on my nerves. Why does he have to playbig brother right now? I’m trying to get laid. Do I want to do that with him and Amari lurking around, listening? Hell no.

Amari reaches out to move my curls from my face, but I slap his hand away.

“I said, no!” I snap, trying to stand my ground, but the look in Damon’s green eyes, the way he’s flipping his coin, the nonchalant expression on his face, tells me I’m beating a dead horse.

“If you want to go on this date, then you will accept the terms. You are a daughter of Wintermoon. And this isn’t a game, Carla,” Damon says. His fingers tighten around the coin, and for a moment, I see genuine concern flash across his face. This isn’t just him being controlling—he’s worried. Actually worried about me. “You can always turn around and go back to your cabin and reschedule for another time.”

“Motherfucker!” I yell, so frustrated I want to punch something. Or someone. Preferably Damon right now. I never asked for his protection. I never asked for any of this. A thousand years taking care of myself and my children, and suddenly I need an escort? But the resolve in his eyes tells me this isn’t negotiable.

Amari just grins at me. What the fuck is wrong with him right now, staring at me like I’m some precious jewel or something? The intensity in his golden eyes makes my stomach flip. I’ve seen that look before—in mated pairs, in the way Kane looks at Tami when she enters a room, in the way Kade watches Leah when she thinks no one’s looking. It’s a look of possession, of devotion, of hunger that goes beyond the physical. But that can’t be what’s happening here. Amari isn’t fated to me.

I glare at both of them.

“If you ruin this for me, both of you, I’ll never forgive you for it,” I say in a warning tone.

Damon looks unfazed, and Amari adjusts his suit, clearly not giving a shit.

“I’d rather you hate me, Carla, than see you hurt,” he says, then moves closer.

I freeze, my body completely unmoving. I hate this. How does this vampire have so much power over me? I can face down radical humans, command massive arachnids, survive centuries in the shadows, but one step from Amari and I’m rooted to the spot. It’s not fear—it’s something else entirely, something I don’t have a name for. A pull, a connection that defies explanation.

I gasp, my mouth dropping open as he steps closer. He leans down, his face just inches from mine. I can smell his cologne, something expensive with notes of crisp pine and musk, mixed with that unique scent all vampires carry—cold earth and night air. His breath is cool against my skin, and I’m mortified to feel my heart rate picking up. I know he can hear it. I know he can smell my response to him, and that smug grin tells me he’s enjoying every second of my discomfort.

“Tomorrow, I’m taking you on a real date,” Amari says, still inching closer. “Not this cute, cookie-cutter shit of a date you’re going on. You want to feel something, Carla? I’ll do it. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, we’ll do whatever you want.”

“I don’t need a pity date from you, Amari,” I snap at him.

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