I damn near slide off the bed in my haste to stand up. “You said I was her daughter,” I argue, pointing my finger at him.
“I’m sorry I am upsetting you if I’m not explaining this right.” Grim searches my face.
“Is she my mom or not?” I half shout.
Grim pushes to his feet and the door to the room opens. Calix is standing in the doorway with Gunnar behind him.
“You are born of her. You are her daughter,” Grim states, and the door closes with a snap. I start to laugh. At first it’s a low chuckle, then it morphs into a hysterical half laugh, half sob. These men are making me an emotional basket case. For a minute there, I thought I might have a real mom somewhere, but now I know I really am just an orphan.
Chapter 8
“…waited, you have the sensitivity of an avocado.” I hear the last bit of the whispered conversation as I exit the bathroom. After my outburst, I snatched some clothes from the bed and disappeared until I got myself under control.
I snort at Calix’s assessment of Grim’s sensitivity. “Knock it off, he didn’t do anything wrong,” I defend. He really didn’t. My response had nothing to do with Grim or how he told me. It’s not like Calix or Gunnar could have made the truth easier to hear.
“At least hetoldme something. Why is everyone always acting like there’s some big secret?” I may be past the knee-jerk hysterics, but I’m still frustrated. “Why didn’t anyone tell me this sooner?”
“Does it change anything?” Calix counters, proving I’m not the only one on edge.
“No, but I still have the right to know who I am.”
Calix rolls his eyes and lets out a huff. “I have never in my life met anyone who owns what they are more than you, Dami. Knowing your origins doesn’t change who you are.” I’m not sure if that was meant to be a compliment, but it somehow feels like one. “I was born from Greek mythology, and Gunnar was changed from a human to a tool of vengeance for a witch. Does that change anything about us? No!” he answers his own question.
“Who got your hackles all riled up?” I grouse, because he’s making sense and also because he’s being kind of shitty considering I heard him chastising Grim for his delivery, and now he’s being pretty damn blunt, too.
“The South has a pretty heavy shifter population.” Gunnar slaps Calix on the back as he walks past him. “Seems everyone already knows ole Cal is in town.” Calix lifts his lips in a sneer as he glares at Gunnar’s back.
“What does that mean?” I search Calix’s face, but he isn’t giving anything away.
“It seems he’s not quite as obligation free as he would like to believe.” Gunnar throws himself on the bed, putting his boots right on the comforter and crossing his ankles.
“Did you secure us another residence?” Grim inquires, seemingly uninterested in Gunnar’s taunts.
“Oh, the Nemean took care of that for us, even got us a car. Isn’t that right, Cal?” Gunnar is way too chipper for something not to have gone very wrong.
A soft knock on the door draws my attention. In my peripheral, I see Calix drop his head in what looks like defeat.
When no one moves to answer the door, I do. That makes Calix spring into action as he races to beat me to the door. “Hey, Dami, remember when you were bummed I wasn’t a shifter? Well, you’re about to meet a whole pack of them.”
I turn back in time to see Calix open the door. He stands in front of the threshold, blocking anyone from entering the room. I go up on my toes and lean to the side so I can see who’s there.
It’s a woman, an attractive woman, a very attractive woman. Her green eyes are the first thing I notice. They are slanted up at the corners just enough to give her face an exotic beauty that no eyeliner or makeup can accomplish. Then there’s her hair: all wild curls of black silk that cascade over her shoulders so I can’t tell how long it is. If that weren’t enough, she’s got a dancer’s body too, with long graceful limbs and a tightly tucked-in waist. I look down at myself quickly. At least I have her beat in the tits department.
When I look back up, she’s bowing her head in what seems like reverence to Calix. I take a step closer and place my palm on his back near his shoulder. He doesn’t respond to my touch, but the woman’s eyes track my movement as she lifts her gaze. Even with her head lowered, I can see her watching me.
“Everything is ready for your arrival, sir.” Her voice is sultry and soft, but still holds a hint of power. She lifts her head and raises her chin just enough to appear like she’s looking down at me.
“Sir?” I lean around Calix and peer up at him. He’s always seemed so laidback, so it’s strange to hear her address him in such a way. I’m also visually staking my claim. If she even thinks to lay a hand on him, I will take her life and her soul.
Ignoring me, he says, “I told you I would be down when I was ready.” His voice is firm.
She does the slight bow again. “Please forgive my haste.”
“You’re not forgiven.” I slam the door in her face, and then take two steps that place me in front of Calix with the door at my back, so I feel it when she knocks again. “Want to tell me who that was and what the fuck is going on?” I ask him softly, then holler, “Don’t touch the fucking door again. We’ll be out when I’m ready.”
In a move of utter defiance, she gives the door one more hard rap. I spin, ready to rip it open and decimate her face, when Calix pushes my front up against the door. Near my ear, he softly growls, “If you defy my mate again, I will let her kill you.”
“Let me?” I scoff, but I don’t argue because Calix molds his body to mine. I feel his chest expand when he draws in a deep breath near the crook of my neck.
