Page 138 of Chaos At Second Sight

Magic.

Tiny moon-shaped fairy lights glowed overhead. The wooden walls were painted with rolling hills and running wolves, two of them standing upright—one with red eyes, the other yellow.

The ceiling was midnight blue, interspersed with paintings of silver stars and tiny Saturns. Shelves lined one wall, packed with children’s books and battered board games. Fluffy rugs, cushions, and blankets covered almost every inch of the floor, leaving barely any visible wood. A mushroom-shaped lamp glowed beside a doodle of a girl and two boys holding hands.

There were no windows, only skylights cut into the low ceiling. The whole place smelled like Christmas mornings.

“This is every child’s secret dream.” I wandered through the space, touching everything, getting another piece of my mate. A glimpse into the boy he’d once been.

“You know, you’re the only one who’s ever been up here, apart from us siblings…and the cleaners.”

“What an honor.” My gaze fell on a small basket tucked beneath one of the shelves. “What’s this?” I crouched. “Sedatives?” Some were long expired; others had recent labels.

He shrugged. “Back when I got too intense. I was a wild child…and Lucien was a wilder pup.”

My fingers froze around one of the blister packs. Sedating your child because you couldn’t handle him sounded like lazy parenting to me. It told the story of a boy people hadn’t understood.

The annoyance dissolved when I rotated on my heels and saw Logan leaning against the wall, arms crossed, blond locks falling over his forehead, a quiet smile on his lips.

Something passed between us as I stood. No room left for doubts or fear; Logan and I belonged together. We stared at each other and smiled like fools.

Logan scratched the back of his neck. “Want a drink?”

“You have drinks?”

“No, but I can run to the packhouse. You can come too and⁠—”

His rambling ended when I caught his shoulders and pulled him to me.

“The only thing I want”—my fingertips brushed his moon necklace, my voice small—“is to be with my mate.”

Logan released a shaky breath. “I’ve wanted you since the night I first heard you on the phone.” His eyes searched mine as his knuckles grazed my cheek. “Your grumpy, half-asleep voice was the best thing I’ve ever listened to…even if it was busy scolding me.” We laughed softly under the little hanging Saturns. “I’ve never wanted anything this much.”

He took my hand and gently pressed it against his forehead. “I’ve had this damn fever, or whatever it is, since Scotland.”

I drew in a shocked gasp. He was burning up.

His smile turned crooked. “I want you so much it hurts.”

“Good,” was all I said before rising onto my tiptoes. “I feel the same.”

Logan kissed me with quiet devotion, slowly at first. Certain.

I answered with everything I had until we toppled sideways onto a mountain of pillows and fluffiness. “Oops,” I said. His laughter vibrated against my chest.

“This is convenient,” he purred, voice intimate, big hands stroking my back up and down until his fingers brushed the sides of my face. “Are you really sure?” He stopped blinking—such a lycan thing. “Because I can wait as long as you need.”

My heart rate tripled. “I don’t need you to wait. I want you.”

His fingers spread across my cheek, angling me to receive a kiss. One that was sweet then hard, tender then heated, so much so I thought my lips might catch fire.

He pulled back, our eyes inches apart, and I saw something new in him. Vulnerability. “You’ll never get rid of me after this.”

“Neither will you. I’m a lycan, you can’t escape me even if you tried. I’d sniff you out.”

Effortlessly, Logan flipped us. His muscles did some sort of terribly hot rippling motion as he flexed above me and reached for the hem of my T-shirt. “I can take it off—” I started.

Rrrrip. The fabric surrendered straight down the middle.