Page 164 of Chaos At Second Sight

Though, there was a sick part of me that did.

I’d spent years burying that instinct, and when I finally thought I was fine, my long-lost mother showed up out of nowhere and stained my life all over again. She was a reminder that my lycan nature would eventually demand the same loneliness, the same wandering, the same cold distance that had consumed her.

I hated that woman for coming to my home, to the place she had always tried to flee. I hated how her presence dragged memories from graves I’d spent years digging. I hated her for being a lycan…and giving me this curse. And I hated her for coming near Yvaine, the most important part of me.

A small sound stirred behind me. I glanced over my shoulder.

There she was. My little mate, sleeping peacefully, arms wrapped around the pillow I’d tucked against her.

She was wearing my shirt; Lachlan’s lay torn on the floor.

A satisfied smirk tugged on my lips. I’ll send him a picture.

That bittersweet feeling returned. She has brothers. You don’t. Not anymore.

Daniel. My hero. The boy who had climbed trees when I got stuck, pulled me from rivers when I fell into them, and made me believe he could save me from anything—even myself.

Francisca had been human before Magnus found her. He marked and mated her the same day they met, without being fated mates. She had turned into a lycan, just like what happened to Yvaine with my mark.

Except for one tiny difference: Francisca spent six months in a coma, nearly dying while fully pregnant with Daniel. When she woke up, she was different. She had a baby she hadn’t known she was expecting, and Magnus was gone. There were months where she looked for him until she fled to America. Then she met Dad, her real mate, and Bella and I happened.

Only Dad and I knew the truth—Francisca was a lycan. Everyone else believed she was simply a spoiled human who couldn’t stand pack life.

Only I inherited the lycan curse. Lucky Bellatrix.

“Rudy?”

Calmness poured over me. My mood, dark as the night, became as bright as the moon. She was my moon, chasing away the monsters in my head. The urge to roam, to leave and disappear, dimmed. For now.

“Where are you?” The blankets shuffled; the mattress shifted.

A small smile climbed my lips. “I’m here, Bunny.”

I bent and stuffed my face into her neck, inhaling that soothing smell. My hands glided over her tiny waist to her back under the large T-shirt.

God, these curves fit so perfectly in my hands, against my chest, and…with the rest. When something stirred, I exhaled, trying to calm myself.

“What time is it?” Her voice was hoarse as she turned to look out the window. “Why did you let me sleep?” Bunny sounded annoyed now. “You said we were going to talk.”

Fair accusation.

The issue was, I didn’t want to waste my present talking about my stupid past.

The past was just that—past. Gone. And, apart from my fucked-up mother and the murderous beast within me, I’d had a great childhood.

Mostly.

There were a thousand better ways to spend my time, and fucking my mate was one of them. Plus, I preferred when she was the one telling me stories, all her memories happy, full of warmth and laughter.

I dove back into bed and gathered her into my arms. “Weeeell, I couldn’t let my bunny doc miss her beauty sleep.” I patted her head, grinning when she glared up at me. “Your brain is too important.”

Huffing, she tried to wiggle free.

Not a chance. My arms tightened around her. Ah. The sweetness of her flooded the mate bond, warming something inside me that had been cold all night.

“Logan, listen. Do you want to talk about your mo⁠—”

“Not really.”