Page 52 of Pretty When She Breaks
I turned around abruptly, leaning on the kitchen counter and squeezing my eyes closed, firmly slamming the bond closed before she got a hint of my arousal.Just biology.
Picturing Ocean trapped in a cage was enough to cool my body off. I growled in frustration and stomped over to the office to tell Kaos it was time to sleep.
He wasn’t speaking, but he was cooperating, so I’d take that as a win. I hadn’t thought to change the sheets and regretted that when I climbed into the bed, the arousal I’d just tempered flaring up again in response to her strong scent.
Kaos collapsed onto Laurel’s bed, taking the side nearest the door. Once again, I willed my body back under controland focused on the task at hand. Kaos had been plagued by night terrors when we’d first got him back, and we’d eventually found having the pack sleep with him helped immensely. But really, Ocean had embraced that role. I often found them curled up or sprawled over each other when I eventually came to bed late.
Kaos stayed on his side of the bed, fiddling with the blankets.
How did we get here? I never knew what to say to Kaos if we weren’t discussing our mission. We were left with uncomfortable silence.
“Good night,” I finally said. “I’ll fix this, Kaos. Don’t worry.”
Kaos shifted some more, and I froze as I felt his arm thread through mine. His cheek came to rest on my bicep.
I waited, wondering if he’d moved by mistake, but he tugged the blanket up and glanced at me. There was a tightening in my chest, and I swallowed uncomfortably.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice quiet.
I grunted. “Just get some sleep,” I said, and he nodded, lapsing into silence.
I settled in, trying to sleep, reaching out tentatively to check on Ocean in the bond. He was tired, his feelings muted. He was usually a peaceful pool of content, but now worry and sorrow muddied his waters.
I had almost drifted off when a weight landed on my legs, causing me to jolt up in panic. A skinny, long-haired black cat looked at me in absolute horror. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the cat’s ears flicking back, and then it was gone, darting out of the room like a little streak of black lightning.
LAUREL
This was torture.
I couldn’t settle.
My side was throbbing where Finch had bitten me.
Instead of slowly getting better, the pain seemed to be getting worse.
They’d claimed me, and a deep, instinctual part of me had claimed them back. But everything about them screamed hostility. Their scents were laced with anger, and the feelings down the bond were sharp with disgust.
Every cell in my body was screaming at me to make this right.
I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes. The only balm in my system was the connection with Ocean, the only one who seemed settled. There were traces of worry and fear, but mostly calm.
I huffed and kicked off my blanket.
It was too warm in my living room.
And theirscentswere saturating the air, an unwelcome temptation that was hard to ignore. I was just as affected by their scents as I had been with Ocean’s, and my mind kept wandering back to that night in his hotel room, when we’d shared that heated kiss.
I growled and squeezed a pillow in frustration. I was so distracted, I didn’t notice the sound of someone approaching.
Something touched my hip, and I bit back a scream as my head snapped up, searching. It was the touch of soft fingers, leaving prickles of pain in their wake, care of Kaos from where he stood behind the couch. Some weird side effect from the dark bond? But I hadn’t heard of anything like that before.
He was shirtless, the moonlight making his pale skinglow, the shadows defining every rib along his thin chest. His long hair was shadowing his face, only the tip of his nose and the glint of his eyes visible in the gloom, making him look like some ghastly apparition. He was behind the couch, leaning over it and resting his weight on one elbow. His other arm was dangling down, long fingers now touching my thigh.
His scent was heavy in the air, prickling static and the sharp pull of wormwood. His image was striking, sending a shiver down my spine that wasn’t entirely fear. He’d only said a few words to me this night, opting to ignore me for the rest of it. He’d been the one to hunt me down, toss me to Finch, and then…nothing.
Until now.
We stared at each other, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the mantel.
