Page 22 of Beyond the Storm
“I love when you get possessive.” He pressed his cheek to Sorin’s head. “Let’s go fix this little guy a bottle.”
We went downstairs just as Armen arrived. Sorin wiggled when seeing him. Our son, unlike both of his fathers, loved people and was extremely sociable. He’d more than likely grow to be an extrovert. What were the odds?
“There’s my little Sor-Bear,” Armen said after he closed the door. He shrugged off his coat before coming over and grabbing Sorin’s outstretched hand.
“MySor-Bear,” Daman said, slightly shifting the baby out of Armen’s reach.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Now, kotya. Be nice.”
“I’m always nice.”
Armen shook his head. “Some things never change.”
Daman reluctantly handed over Sorin and snarled as he watched Armen lightly bounce him. I smiled to myself and grabbed his hand.
“Bell and Phoenix said they were coming for dinner tonight,” Daman said as we moved around the kitchen to fix Sorin a bottle. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it is.” I closed in behind him at the counter and kissed the side of his neck.
Daman and his brothers gathered every Sunday for a family dinner, but he and Bellamy saw each other more frequently than that. With Phoenix’s teleportation powers, they could visit whenever they wanted. Other than me and Daman, Bellamy was Sorin’s favorite person. It was one reason why we’d made Bellamy and Phoenix the baby’s godfathers. If something ever happened to us, there was no one we trusted more than the two of them.
“I can cook.” Armen stood at the back door, letting Sorin peer at the falling snow through the glass. “Maybe pirozhki and borscht?”
My stomach made an embarrassing noise.
Daman breathed out a laugh. “I guess that’s a yes.”
My face heated, which made him grin even more. We had faced many hardships over the years. Much had tried to tear us apart. But there we stood in the home we’d built together, watching our son smile at the snow and making dinner plans with the ones we loved.
It truly was an extraordinary life.
The End
Gray & Mason
A glimpse into their happily ever after.
Gray
“Target sighted,” I whispered to myself as I inched along the ledge, paintball gun in my grasp.
Mason stood behind one of the partly demolished brick buildings, checking his rounds. The long-sleeve black shirt barely contained his thick biceps and wide shoulders. One hard flex and the material would probably explode.
I wanted to nibble him.
Don’t lose focus.My husband might’ve been mouthwateringly hot, but today, he was my enemy. I shook my head and positioned my gun. But again, my silly brain focused more on how well his ass and muscled thighs filled his pants than on pulling the trigger.
We played in an outside arena that had been built to look like an apocalyptic war zone with debris fields and the ruins of a village. We hadn’t chosen teams. Instead, it was every man for himself. A few werewolves from the local pack had joined us for the game, but Mason had already taken them out. As an ex-special ops Marine with crazy accurate sharpshooter skills, not even supernatural beings could get the drop on him.
Now, it was just me and him. The last two standing.
Was it fair that I had more acute senses, like being able to see farther distances and pick up scents and life forces? Fair that I’d been trained as an assassin? Probably not.
I smiled and wiggled closer to the edge of the roof, sliding along on my belly and keeping my head down.
“Sleep,”Sloth mumbled.
“Not yet,”I responded to my sin.“We gotta get Mason.”
