Page 3 of Maiming
Chaos’ sweet mother, Helen, pulled me in and acted like she’d never let her “sweet boy’s mate” go. She’s a loving woman full of optimistic happiness. A woman who makes me understand just where Chaos gets it from.
And Kain’s mom … is just like Kain. Except worse because she’s not easily won over by my beaming charisma like her son.
“She likes you; she’s just cautious.” He searches my features and I do my best to nod to him.
“I know. It’s fine.”
Tension fills the pause that passes between us. We’ve been here a week and Kain hasn’t so much as kissed me since we arrived.
I’m terrified it’s because his mother doesn’t think I’m enough. If she doesn’t think I’m enough, will Kain?
It’s hard. It’s hard trying to fit here when I’ve spent so many years not fitting anywhere. I didn’t fit in at home. I didn’t fit in the Kingdom of Minden. And now I’m here, in a simple shifter village called Valencia.
For the first time in my life, I care if I fit in this place.
I want to fit here with them so bad it hurts.
And I will.
“I’ll make her like me.” My chin tips up and lines crease his pretty eyes.
“Oh, really?” His head tilts as he stares down at me.
“Yeah. By the end of the week, she’ll lovk me.”
His lips part with a smirk as his body melds against mine. The pressure of his palms pressing low down my back have dirty, smutty positions rapid firing through my mind. I think there’s enough room against that wall but it looks a little damp and water damaged. The woodworking table to the left is spacious enough, but I’d hate to find a surprise nail somewhere. The small stairs leading into the cellar seem uncomfortable but desperate times call for desperate measures.
His breath is hot against my ear as his mouth skims against it. “She’llloveyou, just give her time.”
Every inch of his body aligns with mine in a hard and sexy hug. Buzzing attraction strums through me. Every part of me feels like it was made to fit with every part of him.
And then he steps away.
“I have to finish this, but she’s in the kitchen.” He turns away from me fully. Wood clatters against one another while he pulls out the piece he needs.
Cold morning air meets my skin, making the fine hair stand on end as I try to figure him out.
Maybe I never will.
Three
Questions with a Side of Breakfast
The two bedroomhouse is the perfect image of a warm and welcoming home. A crisp white cloth lines the kitchen table, little, pink hand sewn flowers bloom out from the center of it. Natural sunlight falls in through the big windows and makes the breakfast laid across the tabletop look picturesque.
Sinister lays a plate down and then lines the edges with appropriate silverware. He does it just right. He knows which fork goes where and it’s bizarre in a way. At the next chair he does the same. His long fingers skim against the shining fork until it’s perfectly in line. He meets my stare with a knowing smirk.
He looks so damn out of place.
But he excels at this simple task without even thinking about it. Why is he always so good at everything?
His dark clothes brush against the frilly material of the table cloth and faint smoke fumes from where he stands. The image of hell is standing right here in this woman’s kitchen.
Setting the table.
“You’re picturing us in our future little white picket fence, middle class family right now, aye? I’ll come home from that job I hate and you and the kids and possibly three overly brooding dragon shifters will be waiting with affectionate smiles. That’s the dream, is it not?” His palm smooths down the front of his black button up shirt as I roll my eyes at him. The only thing appealing about that weird little prediction is the rasping accent he said it in.
“Or, maybe I’ll come home from the job I hate and you’ll be waiting on me.” My brow arches defiantly to my friend and it only makes him smile even more.
