Page 14 of Fated to Her

Though today’s gone better; at least she let us be close to her, even if it was only because she was desperate for the pain to stop.

Thunder cracks loudly while lightning lights up the sky, streaking it with electrical violence as Cyrus comes out from his shower.

“I love storms,” Cyrus says, flopping on the bed next to me.

“I don’t. They’re too loud.”

“Nothing better than rain on a tin roof,” Cyrus whispers while listening to the storm.

“That’s your inner country bumpkin coming out in you. Weren’t you raised in a shack?” I taunt.

“Better than where you were raised in a kennel.”

“I wasn’t raised in a kennel?” I smack him.

“Might as well have been, with all those howling mutts.”

“That’s my family you’re talking about,” I tell him with a chuckle.

He’s never liked my family. I don’t blame him; they are basically what he says: mutts, complete savages. The remark makes me wonder what’s comes of them.

“Stop thinking about them. You will piss me off after what they did to you.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. I can always tell when you do. Your emotions go strange.”

“I wouldn’t have met you if they didn’t do what they did.”

“I would have found you eventually. They are scum and deserve nothing but death.”

That’s true. It’s why I left and started my own pack as soon as I could. Before throwing that away for him. Though, I would do it again in a heartbeat. I sometimes miss pack life, the feeling of family.

“Addie is our family now,” he says.

“So much for not being able to read my thoughts.”

“You know I can’t, but I have had you for 300 years now. I know how you think,” Cyrus tells me. He rolls over, pulling the blankets up and placing his head on my chest.

“I love you,” I tell him.

He kisses my chest. “I love you more.”

I flick the lamp off before lying back down, trying to get comfortable. Cyrus’s hand runs down my abdomen and back up; I focus on the sweeping movement of his hand, letting it lull me to sleep.

Chapter 5

• Adeline •

The storm is raging outside. Taylor is sleeping in with Maya, who keeps crying out every time the thunder cracks loudly. Mom is out cold; storms always put her to sleep. I lie staring out the window, trying to ignore the pain building in my stomach. The hours are ticking by slowly, and I can feel Cyrus’s blood burning out of my system.

I’m nauseous, my stomach turning violently, and I get up, chucking the blanket off and rushing to the bathroom. I make it to the toilet, ripping the lid up before emptying my stomach’s contents. My body overheats from the retching. Placing the lid down, I stand and flush the toilet. Goosebumps rise on my arms despite how hot I am. My blood feels like it is boiling in my veins and sweat runs down the back of my neck.

Turning the shower on, I hop in, adjusting the temperature slightly, so it isn’t completely cold. I stand under the stream when intense pain washes over me, causing me to double over on the shower floor. My stomach lurches, and I throw up bile. My throat burns painfully. I turn my face up, letting the shower water run into my mouth before spitting, trying to rid the taste.

I wait out the new wave before standing and grabbing my toothbrush off the shower caddy and brushing my teeth, spitting out the toothpaste. I rinse my mouth then turn the water to completely cold and standing under the stream for a few seconds.

I finally shut the water off, getting my towel and wrapping it around me. I head back down the hall toward my bedroom. I stumble into the door as I grab it, vertigo washing over me.