Page 120 of Sight of Fate

“HRC had something similar,” Andros recalls. “If it’s them, we’ve got a battle on our hands. I’ll get dressed.”

“Hey, it’s Andros,” I hear him say as he walks away. “Charli’s fine. But we need you back here ASAP. Raine⁠—”

That’s all I hear before I’m running to jump in the shower and get dressed myself. When I walk into the living room thirty minutes later, it’s full of people I don’t recognize. Mostly men. I hesitate, searching for Macklin or Andros.

“Charli,” a familiar voice says behind me, and I spin around to find Leif standing there. “Don’t worry. Most of them don’t bite. And the rest know it isn’t worth the trouble they’d find if they tried.”

“I wouldn’t mind a bite,” a dark, velvety voice says from the corner. “Who might this be?”

A man steps from the shadows of the wall, and swallowing hard, I move closer to Leif. With his tousled blond hair, sparkling ocean-blue eyes, and wicked smile, he looks like a surfer, but the hairs on my arm are standing up in warning.

Leif growls. “Macklin, Teague, and Andros’ mate.” Instead of looking fearful, the man appears to be intrigued. “She’s also an honorary member of my clan and, therefore, under my protection.”

“Walk away, Max,” a low voice warns him, and I turn to see Elijah standing there, his golden-brown eyes fixed on the man.

Max, the warlock who’s supposed to be following Clarissa, but I’m not sure if the others know, so I don’t say anything.

“So many protectors,” Max mocks, tilting his head to study me. “You don’t look dangerous.” He holds out his hand. “Want to tell me my future?” Proving he knew who I was all along.

I give a nonchalant shrug, although that’s the last thing I feel. “As long as you’re okay with me seeing your past.” I extend my hand.

He tucks his hand into his pocket and takes a step away. “Perhaps another time.” Then he saunters off, like he hasn’t a care in the world, but I saw the flash of concern in his eyes.

“Well played,” Elijah murmurs before he returns to the group gathered around the kitchen island.

Leif stays pretty close until Macklin and Andros return.

Macklin frowns when he sees me. “Sorry, love. I went to check the alarms. Thought you were sleeping.” He locks eyes with Andros and raises a brow.

“She wasn’t here when I went downstairs to grab the food from the delivery guy,” Andros says, taking the bags of food he’s holding to the island. He returns and narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I tell him, and he turns to Leif. “What happened?”

Leif lifts a shoulder. “Max walked out of the shadows to say hello to your mate.” There’s an underlying current of meaning in his voice. He smiles down at me. “I’ll leave you three to chat.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be following Clarissa?” I ask Macklin.

“She disappeared last night,” Macklin replies, spearing a hand through his hair. “Left all her stuff behind.”

“That’s damning.”

“Doesn’t look good,” Macklin agrees with a frown. An argument breaks out around the island, and Macklin glances at me. “We’re planning our defense. You’re welcome to stay and listen.”

“I’m not Teague, but let’s get you a coffee.” Andros says, holding out a gloved hand, and I gratefully slip mine into it.

Several heads turn as we walk over to the machine. Needing something familiar, I make my Campfire Mocha with a touch of chocolate syrup on top of the whipped cream.

“Are you making coffee?” a familiar voice says, and I turn around to see Ames staring at my machine with hope in his eyes.

“How’s Mavros?” I ask him, getting down another cup.

“The same,” he replies with a shrug.

I nod, knowing it’s going to take a while for him to get over it. “What kind of coffee would you like? I can make a black coffee, espresso, or something fancy,” I offer, holding up my drink, and his emerald-green eyes light up.

“Black’s fine, thanks,” he says, although his gaze darts to my cup like he can’t help himself.

“How about a Campfire Mocha?” I reply, holding out the one I just finished making.