Page 118
I close our connection and shift closer to Astra. I slide my knee between her thighs and loop my arm over her waist. This feels so right and wrong at the same time.
Chapter 32
Kian
Please don’t let me dream of my past.
As it turns out, I don’t. I hold her through her twitching dreams, her face going taut with terror. But it eases when I stroke her hair again, so I do that into the morning. I greet the sun rising over the trees, somehow less tired than I would expect.
I detach myself and leave her in bed. She immediately rolls onto her stomach, spreading her body across the mattress. I chuckle when she buries her nose in my pillow, then grabs on to it.
Even if we both fight it, our bodies want to join.
I clean myself up, then venture downstairs. I find a table in the breakfast area of the hotel and wait for my hunters to arrive. They’re no doubt confused about our location change, as they raced after me toward California. They were afraid for me to face a blood witch alone.
They didn’t have to backtrack too much, and now I need an update. I need to right my priorities, block Astra from blurring them, and focus on the important things I’ve forgotten.
Like why I’m even doing this.
Griffin shows first, wearing a pale-blue sweatshirt and black sweatpants. Jessamine follows, her sundress a bit at odds with the cooling weather. Roman arrives right behind her, his sharp gaze scanning the café. His outfit more closely resembles Griffin’s: a t-shirt and black sweatpants.
Easy clothes to get on and off with all the shifting we do.
They draw attention in the dining area. One of the couples drinking coffee by the window stops their conversation to watch them.
It’s their energy, their in-sync movements. Their confidence maybe, or beauty.
Dad prided himself on a gorgeous pack. Some old, ugly rumors suggested he curated his pack to be the strongest and the best-looking. Vanity was definitely in my father’s capabilities, so I don’t find myself doubting the rumors’ potential.
“Morning,” I greet them.
“Alpha,” Griffin says quietly. He sits beside me. “Coral is checking the hotel perimeter.”
We’re about two hours outside of Vegas right now, although I’m not sure Astra knows that.
Jessamine and Roman go for the buffet. They collect enough food for the soon-to-be five of us, dropping off the plates and winding back through the tables to grab coffee. By the time they return, Coral arrives. She sits beside Griffin with a stoic expression, her arms crossed over her cropped t-shirt.
She seems better now. Recovered from her encounter with the witch’s circle and the demon. Obviously, she’s fine enough to shift and travel, but there’s a burn mark across one side of her face, down her neck.
In a way, it reminds me of Astra’s Mark. And that, in turn, reminds me of how Astra was able to burn my sister with only her hand.
“Nothing outside,” Coral says. “Do we expect trouble?”
“It’s better to be prepared,” Griffin admonishes.
“Where’s the witch?” She glances over her shoulder at the doorway, then picks up a pastry. She might seem unbothered, but she holds tension in her shoulders.
“Do you have a plan?” Jessamine asks. Her hand settles on her stomach, which seems to have grown in the short time I’ve been away.
My gaze ticks from it back to her face, and my brows furrow.
Twenty weeks. The halfway point. Every day that passes might as well shave a piece of my life away.
I’m going to lose her. I can feel it.
“I don’t have a concrete plan.”
I spot Astra enter, but my wolves don’t. I frown slightly, feeling her tugging on the mate bond like it’s a yo-yo. And it’s led her right to me. Her gaze locks on the table, her lips pressed together in irritation. Traces of sleep still cling to her. Pieces of hair that were caught up in a braid fall loose around her face. Her cheeks are pink. She’s wearing a different t-shirt, one of her own, with a sweater over it and black leggings. She so far hasn’t touched any of the new clothes.
