Page 80 of The Alien Reindeer's Bounty
“But I’m hungry now.” Ruby patted her belly. “Can I have Cocoa Pebbles?”
Her phone told her it was mid-afternoon. Ruby could have a bowl of cereal now and be able to eat enough ham to appease Patricia. “I think I’d like some, too.”
“Yes!” Ruby leaped from the bed and tore out of the room. “Mommy says I can have all the cereal I want,” she shouted.
“A bowl,” Odessa called after her daughter. She stretched and eased out of the bed, following the scent of buttered toast.
A soft smile tugged at the corner of Mads’ mouth. He wore a festive green sweater with snowflakes and reindeer—of course—and looked so at ease in her kitchen. Somehow, a bag from the pharmacy waited on the table, between the bottle of juice and a tub of butter. Ruby climbed into a chair and clumsily poured herself a bowl of chocolate cereal. Mads grabbed the milk and carefully supervised as Ruby filled the bowl to the brim.
“How are you feeling?” He pressed a quick kiss on her forehead.
“Tired. Sore.” Her fingers brushed her throat, wondering if she had any visible bruising. A little make-up would cover that up. “How about you? Your—” She stopped herself from sayinggunshot wound.
He patted his shoulder. “Good as new. Stop worrying.”
“I worry because—”
“You love and I love you in return.” Another kiss to the forehead and Ruby made an exaggerated gagging noise. “Eat some toast. You’ll feel better with something in your stomach.”
She nibbled on a piece of toast, barely tasting the strawberry jam.
Mads asked Ruby if she was excited about Santa arriving that night and if she thought they could catch a glimpse of Santa’s reindeer. Ruby bounced in her seat. “Can we, Mommy? Can we stay up to see the reindeer?”
She caught Mads’ eye. He winked. “Sounds like a plan,” she said, not entirely sure what Mads intended but willing to play along. They’d been like that from the beginning, since the boy with the antlers grabbed her hand and insisted she come home with him so they wouldn’t be strangers.
This was her family.
This was exactly what she wanted, every day, for as long as possible.
Mads
Patricia and Geraldarrived with too much food and presents. Odessa’s raspy voice and Ruby dozing on the couch reinforced the fable that they were ill. Patricia stocked the refrigerator and promised to come by tomorrow and make soup. Odessa rolled her eyes and groaned about her parents smothering her but Mads was fine with the smothering.
His father had been distant, which was how he had preferred it. A distant demeanor was better than Arne’s scorn and fits of rage. As long as Arne ignored Mads, they could live indifferently with each other under one roof.
At least, that’s what he had always believed.
He didn’t know how many of Karl’s wild claims to believe.
The lights of the Christmas tree illuminated the room in a soft glow. Presents wrapped in brightly colored paper crowded under the tree. A large, red velvet bag waited by the back door. Ruby slept on the sofa, tucked up in a fuzzy blanket. The calf’s steady, even breathing assured him that she remained fast asleep. Odessa sat next to Mads on the floor, her back to the sofa and head on his shoulder.
“I never knew my mother,” he said, giving voice to the trouble churning inside him. “My father always said that she left after I was born but Karl told me another story.”
Odessa took a moment to respond. “I can tell it’s not a happy one.”
He grunted, the correct words proving difficult to find in the moment. Better to state it bluntly and clear rather than let worry tangle up his thoughts. “Karl said my parents were bonded mates and he killed my mother to see what would happen to Arne.”
Mads could not imagine the vast emptiness inside him if anything happened to his mate. Karl took Odessa and considered her nothing more than an interesting specimen to dissect. Had Karl succeeded—
Bitter and cold rage could consume him. He’d end Karl and would not rest until he tasted the treacherous male’s blood. What happened beyond that point, his imagination failed. His heart would continue to beat but he wouldn’t be able to call that a life.
How had Arne managed it? As broken as Arne became, he managed to exist for nearly three decades, courting a slow death with alcohol.
Odessa shifted, pulling away enough to look him in the face. “God, I hate that man. No, he’s a monster, not a man. Do you believe him?”
“I don’t want to. He was kind to me.” For so long, Karl had been the caretaker in the family, eccentric as he was. The time Mads spent with his uncle, he knew he would have all the food he could eat and no one would yell at him.
Mads closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “He wasn’t kind, when I think on it. He was decent. He fed me and bought me toys and never berated me. I enjoyed the time I stayed with him, away from my father.” He took another breath. “I feel embarrassed that food and kind words were all it took to buy my loyalty.”
