“Colbie, that’s enough!”
Evie laughs and reassures her. “It’s fine, Malina, we invited the questions. No, but when you’re in a four-way relationship, boundaries become a thing of the past. It helps that we all get along like sisters.”
I wrinkle my nose. “There would be nothing worse than sharing a mate with someone you hated.”
“You have no idea. One of the potentials was a former high school rival of mine, and I thank the goddess every day that she was one of the first to be dismissed.” Evie shudders.
“What about the marks on the ones who are not chosen?” my mom asks, and I gape at her. She blushes sheepishly. “What? I’m invested now.”
“They fade, and only the marks on the chosen ones remain.” Layla lifts her dress shirt and shows me a mark on her hip that looks like a tiger.
“Are you all tiger shifters?” I ask. “Archie is one too. Is that a family thing?”
“A shifter child will take after one of their parents. Lucas is an orange tiger, which is what we were all marked with. Mia is a black panther, Evelyn is a lioness, and I am a white tiger,” Layla answers, and my eyes widen with all the new information.
“All cats,” I murmur, and they nod.
“Yes, I think that’s why we probably all clicked so well with him. Archie takes after his mother, Gracelin, who takes after her father instead of a lioness like me,” Evie tells me.
Something she says triggers a memory in my mind. “Gracelin… That name is familiar. Didn’t I used to have a friend named Gracelin?” I look at my mom, and her eyes widened slightly.
“You remember that? I thought for sure you had forgotten them. You were maybe seven or eight when they used to come around.” My mom sounds surprised.
“We used to bring our children when we would visit your mother. You would all sit under that very table and have tea parties.” Mia points at Mom’s workspace where she has a couple of machines set up as well as cutting mats.
“I used to bake for them,” I murmur, more memories assaulting me. “I was so sad when they stopped coming.”
“Yes, you cried for days,” my mom says, smiling sadly. “I had to send you to my parents whenever the queens were due to arrive because you were inconsolable for days after each visit, but eventually, you forgot.”
I think about my visit to my grandparents in the human sector. They are two of my favorite people. Granny and I would flip through her extensive collection of recipe books, and I would get to pick something new each time. It’s no wonder I forgot my friends, because I found my soul mate—baking.
I shake off my memories and find the queens looking at me with guilt. “Shifters gain the ability to shift back at will aroundthe age of twelve. We were worried they would show you their new skills and frighten you, so we stopped bringing them.”
There’s a weird kind of lump in my throat when I think about those three children. Gracelin, Gretchin, and what was the boy’s name? Try as I might, I can’t remember it, although I remember the way being near him made me feel, like I was safe and loved. Weird, right? They were my first friends, and since them, I haven’t really tried to make any kind of lasting friendships. I wonder if deep down I did remember the hurt I felt when they stopped coming and decided I wasn’t ever going to feel that way again.
“Well, I’m just happy I could help one of my old friends with her son. I’m going to leave this here” —feeling all kinds of weird and awkward, I place the remaining champagne off to the side so I don’t risk getting it on Mom’s fabrics— “and head up to my apartment. It was nice meeting you again after so many years, and congratulations on your retirement. I hope you get to do all the fun things that being royal may have hindered in the past.”
I don’t wait for a response and bolt for the foyer with the elevator, which will take me to my level. I pull my keycard out of my pocket and tap it over the sensor, telling the elevator where I need to go.
I half expect my mom to run after me and yell at me for some reason, but she doesn’t, and I heave a sigh of relief when the doors shut. I close my eyes and rest my head against the elevator wall as it moves up two levels to my floor. What a clusterfuck. How fucking awkward am I, and I just made myself look like a fool in front of the current queens. Thankfully I probably won’t ever see them again, so I just need to forget it ever happened, though whether my mother will ever allow me to or not will be another story.
Chapter
Seven
Colbie
Saturday morning, the streets in the neutral zone are even more hectic than the day before. Luckily for me, though, the curfew was still in affect when I walked to work, so I didn’t have to dodge mobs of edgy humans. As I look out the window and gape at the masses, I realize the trip back to my apartment after we close is going to be a nightmare.
We get a steady influx of people wanting takeaway coffees, but no one wants to give up their spot on the parade route long enough to sit for a meal, so I let the others go early. I can handle the takeaways on my own, and I know the three of them want to join the festivities.
The parade route doesn’t go past my bakery, but I know when it starts because my steady influx of customers dwindles to nothing. Sighing, I put up the closed sign and lock the front door early, then I return to the kitchen and make a new batch of bagels for Monday’s breakfast rush. Next, I prep some of the muffin and cupcake batters, measuring and mixing all the dry ingredients into portions for the different flavors. I’ll add thewet ingredients just before I bake them. I put lids on all the containers to keep any possible rodents or insects out and place them aside on the prep table, then I clean the coffee machine and wipe all surfaces down before hanging up my apron.
Flicking off the light, I pull the door closed behind me. The light is on inside the Romance Nest, and since I have a couple of free hours, I decide to pick up a new book to read. Maybe I’ll soak in my bath and enjoy a glass of wine as well. It’s been a long time since I wasn’t too tired to enjoy something like that. Hopefully with the parade today, Brock and Niles have forgotten all about my run-in with the watch at the beginning of the week.
Smiling with the decision, I push through the front door of the bookstore. The bell tinkles, letting Brock or Niles know someone is in their store. The place is deserted, but I hear noise downstairs. They are probably watching the broadcast of the parade. If I wanted to watch it, that’s how I would do it. There is no way I would squeeze myself into a crowd of people just to get a glimpse of the king and queens. Heck, I got my own private glimpse of the beautiful women yesterday.
I breathe in deeply and look around. There is just something about the smell of paper and ink that warms the soul. Now what do I want to read? Normally if I pick up a book, it will be a thriller or an action and adventure tale, but for some reason, I drift toward the paranormal romance section. I know it’s a popular genre, and Brock told me it’s his biggest seller, but the section sure is huge. I stare at it, feeling somewhat intimidated.
