Page 14 of Chaos At Second Sight

There were no glowing sunsets, only the cloudy Scottish sky. And the birds? Gone, hiding probably.

So yes, my fairy tale looked a tad different.

A little secret?

I’d choose the beast who slaughtered the white horse, flattened the puny prince, and scared away every last bird, a thousand times over.

Because honestly? Princes were overrated.

Skinny calves. No sparks. And absolutely zero bite!

Sparks woke me. A tender gaze greeted me, and my own affection answered in my chest. The ground—or should I say Lucien—shifted underneath me.

Last night, he had stuck my head beneath his muzzle and rested his chin on top of it. He was a five-star mattress and a blanket, two in one. No, wait, three in one—he purred too.

My face was resting on the soft pillow that was the hollow of his shoulder. His scent and all his fluffiness had lulled me into the best sleep of my life. Finally, I could say that I had experienced sleeping curled up against my mate, even if not in his human form—a minor detail.

“Cuddles.”

I hummed in response.

Lucien growled in approval when I shifted closer and sniffed his neck. He tightened his grip. “Lucien so lucky.”

I sleepily rubbed my face against his gothic Santa Claus beard. When I glanced up at him, he was already watching me with an adoration that humbled me.

I could have spent all day looking into those eyes. When I first met him, I compared them to hell—a lazy comparison. Cowardly, even.

Now? They resembled twin Mars. Scientists said the planet’s color came from iron oxidizing over millions of years into rust-red dust. His eyes were out of this world.

“Good morning, Lucy.” My words were muffled against his chest.

A puff of warm breath escaped his nostrils, dispersing into the chilly morning air like steam from an old train.

“Lucien,” he corrected with a frown.

I tapped his nose. “I prefer Lucy.”

His ears flattened. “But Lucy is girl name.”

I chuckled. “If you say so…Lucy.”

He grumbled as I extricated myself from his spark-producing embrace and hopped up. Stretching my arms overhead, I welcomed the satisfying pops from my shoulders and spine before wiggling life back into my toes. His martian eyes followed my movements with interest.

The pearly dawn of the Scottish morning wore a blanket of silver-gray clouds, and the branches here were already dotted with hints of spring. I was proud of my genetics putting up with the gloomy climate.

I approached the lake equipped with a smile and a lighter heart and took a deep breath. Small waves rippled across the loch, and for a moment, I imagined millennium-old sea monsters chasing each other beneath the surface. Maybe Lucy’s ancestors had chased those monsters away…or had eaten them.

Bears had been here. Maybe they still were, the breeze carrying their scent. The half-chewed bodies of a dozen fish were strewn among the lakeside shrubs.

Before the water could dare lick my still-wiggling toes, a furry wall materialized in front of me, and I was scooped off the ground and cradled in its arms.

“Hey!”

The wall peered down at me from over his muzzle, then crouched down between me and the enemy (the water). He reached out and dipped a single clawed finger into the lake.

His verdict came immediately.

“Cold water.” The clawed finger withdrew. “Too much for Mate.”