Page 37 of His Curse

And fuck all, it means a lot. Damn near everything after losing just as much.

This morning Zan, Frankie, and I had breakfast and resumed our routine as usual, talking a little more about my poor life choices before I decided to take off because I needed to do some work on the hole in my roof. The one created by the storm a few weeks ago.

Which is what I'm still doing but I have to stop more often than I'd like because I'm so goddamn sore I can barely move. I'm sure that's a result from wandering aimlessly in the woods, all the tension I’m carrying around after fighting with my sister, and then waking up this morning with Zan's knee up my ass, his arms around my throat and Frankie's foot in my mouth.

The weirdest part of waking up like that?

I’m pretty sure when I fell asleep, Zan was in between me and Frankie becauseno touching my darling girl,per his growled and very slurred demand—even though there was a hell of a lot oftouching and other thingslast night after we cleared the air over what we all mean to each other—and I have absolutely no idea how I wound up in the middle. And I sure as shit don’t have a clue how Frankie managed to get her feet by the head of the bed, or how Zan basically put me in a submission move without any of us waking up.

Bizarre fucking shit man. Probably even more so that the only thing about last night that I feel weird about is the position we managed to get into while we slept. Says something about me, I’m sure, since, of everything that went down,that’swhat strikes me odd.

But I'm very grateful for them, so grateful.

Without Zan and Frankie, even Havok and Cora, I'd be a total mess.

Especially with most of our clan still gone.

I miss those dragon assholes, and I'm not too proud to admit it.

With a frustrated grunt, I get to my feet, rub my shoulder, and look down through the hole in my roof that was conveniently made right over my fucking toilet.

Fucking tree man.

It was old, and the storm was big but if I'd have been taking a shit, that fucker would of crushed me right on the porcelain throne.

That woulddefinitelysuck.

Which is why I need to get back to work.

The tarp I stapled to the roof has been fine until now but it's supposed to rain again, and I don't want to wind up flooding my house, nor do I want to bunk with Vok or Zan since they've got their own shit going on. And I definitely don't need my one room cabin ruining all my recon that’s tacked up to the wall under my grandmother's blanket.

With a pained grunt, I grab the tarp and rip it up, throwing it over the side of my house before I have to stop and rub my shoulder again becausegoddamn it hurts, then start to assess what I'm going to need to in order to fix this shit.

Really, I should just redo the roof altogether because it could use it.

My cabin could use a lot of work honestly, but after working on everyone else's fucking house for the last two years, I'd be happy with a piece of plywood and nail gun.

Plywood it is.

I climb back down the ladder, shed my shirt because I'm sweating my ass off in flannel, then chance a look at my phone to realize I’ve missed an entire conversation happening without me.

VOK: Dinner at our place?

ZAN: The females cooking?

FRANKIE: Duh!

VOK: Cora has a ham in the oven.

ZAN: Just one? That doesn't seem like enough for three growing boys such as ourselves...

CORA: I just finished prepping the second one, you gigantic, sparkly bottomless pit! I know better than to make only one if it isn't just me and Havok.??

FRANKIE: I can do sides! Any requests?

FRANKIE: Any requests NOT from Zan?

ZAN: I am deeply offended by that.

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