Page 23 of Broken Rejected Mate

I bite my tongue. There are two protein bars in my purse, and if I’m being honest, that’s what I thought we’d be having. If it was just me, I’d stay in this room for the whole night, just to avoid going out and seeing Emin.

But it’s not just me, and Sarina has her hand over her stomach, a tortured look on her face.

“Fine,” I sigh, scooping up the gems, sliding them back into the velvety pouch, and swinging my legs off the bed. When I face her, I lean down, smooth my thumbs over her cheeks, her freckles. “You stay here. I’ll go see if I can bring some in.”

She nods eagerly, and I close the door behind me, casting a weak protection spell over it. Some of my strength is coming back. I can’t wait until I’m at full power again.

I go down the steps as quietly as I can, slowing when I realize there are voices sounding in the kitchen—Emin isn’t alone. There’s a woman with him.

Stupidly, something like jealousy rears its head inside me, and I push it down, trying to ignore the clawing, desperate feeling. There’s no reason—absolutelynone at allto be feeling like that about Emin.

That’s proven extra true when I peer into the kitchen and see Kira Argent standing at the stove, an apron wrapped around her, a spoon in her hand.

“Veva!” she turns and smiles at me, popping out her hip. “Come in, come in!”

I step into the kitchen cautiously, glancing over when I hear lowered voices. Dorian and Emin sit at the breakfast bar, laughing and talking about something on Dorian’s phone. When I appear, they glance up, and Dorian waves at me.

Without thinking, I wave back.

“Thank the gods you’re here,” Kira says, opening a drawer, pulling out a spoon, and handing it to me. “Please taste this and tell me what it’s missing.”

Everything about this situation feels like a fever dream. Just beyond the guys, on little play mats, I see the two boys on their backs, reaching for hanging toys, gurgling and laughing happily.

Cautiously, I step forward, accepting the spoon and trying the sauce.

Without meaning to, I close my eyes and let out a little noise. It’s some sort of Bolognese, perfectly savory, with all the right notes of sweetness, salt, and acid.

“Nothing,” I hear myself say after a second. “I don’t think this is missing a thing.”

When I open my eyes again, Kira is beaming at me. “Have I ever told you you’re my favorite?” she asks, taking the spoon back from me and depositing it in the dishwasher. She strikes me as the kind of woman that’s very efficient in the kitchen.

“Pretty sure those two are your favorites,” I joke, gesturing at the babies, and her face softens.

“I’m sure you get that those two are in a league of their own. No competition.”

Silence falls, the understanding of two mothers hanging between us.

“Speaking of kids,” Kira smiles, gesturing to a large rectangular bag just outside the kitchen. I blink at it, realizing it’s piled to the top with folded clothes. “That’s some stuff I whipped up for you and Sarina.”

“Oh,” I say, shaking my head and putting my hand to my chest, “Kira, you didn’t have to—”

But I’m cut off by the sound of my daughter’s voice, nervous and hopeful at once.

“Mom?”

Kira and I turn at the same time to find Sarina in the doorway, her eyes wide as she takes it all in. I can’t even find it in me to be upset that she didn’t stay in the room when she smiles, asking, “Is it spaghetti?’

“Same kind of sauce,” Kira says. “Different noodles. Would you like to try some?”

Sarina nods, and in the next moment, she’s receiving her own taste of the sauce. After a second, she delivers the same praise I did.

“Are you a chef?” Sarina asks, and I see Kira glancing over at her husband, something there in those words.

“Not yet,” Kira says. “But I’d like to open a restaurant around here in a few years, when the boys are older. That’s a secret between me and you, though, okay?”

Sarina’s eyes get wide, and she nods. Kira turns back to the stove, and Sarina says, “Do you…do you have any books?”

Kira looks over her shoulder at my daughter. “This isn’t actually my place, but my brother Emin probably has at least a few books lying around here.”

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