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“How are you even real?” I say under my breath as we get up and head back inside. His only response is a soft laugh.
Gabriel leaves me in the hallway to go start on dinner, and I can’t stop smiling… until I walk into the living room, and Atlas grabs me by the elbow and pushes me against the wall, caging me in. “Did the whole of Washington need to hear you come?”
My smile morphs into a smirk, electricity zipping through my veins as he glares at me, his pulse uneven. I tilt my head to the side slightly. “Jealousy isn’t an attractive look on you, my sire.”
His eyes narrow. “I hope you plan to get some rest tonight, because we’ll be up at five o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Arching a brow at him, I ask, “For what purpose, exactly? Does supernatural world peace need to be brokered at the ass crack of dawn for some reason?”
His lips twitch briefly. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near those hunters without more training, you are sorely mistaken.”
I blink at him. “Fine, but there isn’t anywhere to train here.” The backyard worked for the basic stuff I was doing yesterday, but it’s not big enough to practice fighting, which is what I’m assuming he’s concerned about.
Atlas nods. “I have a place.”
I lean against the wall, rolling my eyes. “Of course, you do.”
He stares at me several seconds longer, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip. Just when I think he’s going to lean in and slant his mouth over mine, he pulls back and starts walking away. “Five o’clock,” he repeats without looking back.
18
Atlas
As warned, I slip into Calla’s room two minutes before five. She’s still fast asleep, curled on her side with one arm hugging the pillow under her head and the other resting against the mattress. Her breathing is even, calm. Her face is relaxed and without tension—exactly as it should be. She shouldn’t be stressed with the dangers and politics of our world. But it’s her world too now.
It’s one minute to five, and I fully intend to watch her, drinking in her beautifully serene features for the next sixty seconds before waking her up. Because I don’t see that serenity lasting once I drag her ass out of that bed at what she would refer to asan ungodly hour.
Without flicking the light on, I walk around the room, approaching the bed from the side her back is facing. I lean over, pulling her hair over her shoulder as I perch on the thick duvet cover. My fingers trail over her cheek, caressing her soft skin, and I have to shove away the part of me that wants to pull her into my arms and bury us both under the covers to ignore the rest of the world.
“Atlas,” she murmurs, still mostly asleep, her eyes closed.
My fingers freeze against her cheek. “Time to get up.” I trace my thumb back and forth across her cheekbone.
“No,” she whines as she rolls onto her back, blinking her eyes open and squinting at me. “I’m still sleeping.”
I pull my hand back, watching her face. “I told you it would be an early morning.”
“I thought you were just being an ass.”
I shrug, standing from the bed. “Think whatever you want, but you better be downstairs in five minutes, or I’ll be back and won’t be nearly as nice.” I don’t wait for a response before leaving the bedroom, though I do catch the low curse she grumbles as I walk through the doorway.
Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, I’m standing in the foyer with my arms crossed over my chest, smirking softly as Calla trudges down the stairs, tying her hair up and glowering at me. She’s wearing a pair of black leggings and running shoes paired with what I believe is one of Kade’s old T-shirts with the sleeves and sides cut out, exposing the black sports bra she’s wearing underneath.
“Twenty-three seconds to spare,” I remark in a dry tone. “I’m impressed.”
Her eyes narrow, and she says, “This is sire abuse. It has to be.”
A chuckle slips past my lips before I press them together, and the others laugh from the living room where they were waiting for our girl to get her ass out of bed.
Gabriel gets up first, grabbing the travel mug off the coffee table, and walks into the hall, offering it to Calla. “It’s an Americano. I figured you could use the caffeine.”
“You’re officially my favorite,” she says, taking the mug and hugging it to her chest as if it’s her most prized possession.
Kade and Lex join us in the foyer, the latter rolling his eyes. “Please, anyone can make coffee. Not everyone can make you—”
“Don’t start,” I cut in. “She needs to stay focused on training this morning.”
“Boring,” Kade singsongs, sliding past Lex and throwing his arm around Calla’s shoulder, kissing the side of her head. “Good morning.”
