Voth put a hand on his arm and squeezed gently. “Your true mate is out there, hon.”
“I’m over it. No more mates for me.” Abi put down the burger and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He hadn’t been aware he was crying until tears tickled his cheeks.
He told himself he wasn’t crying over Colin, but maybe he was a little. It had more to do with the idea of always having a false start. For all he knew, he was an anomaly and had never even had a true mate. Maybe all he’d ever get were fake ones. Maybe he was just that strange. “I’m just tired of all the fakeness. I don’t think I’d recognize realness even if I found it.”
Voth came around the kitchen island and drew Abi into a hug. His hugs were the best because he was huge with thick arms that enveloped him so thoroughly it was like the warmest blanket in existence. Abi pressed his cheek to Voth’s thick chest and closed his eyes. Voth’s fig scent replaced the smell of greasy burgers.
“Why do you always smell so good?” Abi had always associated Voth with home and comfort. “Total dad vibes.”
Voth chuckled. “I assume the question is rhetorical.”
“Yeah.” Abi pulled away and sat down again.
Voth made his way around the counter. “I have a question that isn’t rhetorical.”
“Lay it on me.” Abi wrapped his hands around his mug and let the coffee warm him from the inside. Voth ordered nothing but the best beans. They had one of those fancy machines that did everything, including grinding beans. Voth could even make a latte upon request. It was as good as any cafe, if not better. But Abi’s coffee was black and bitter. Not the way he liked it, but probably the way he needed it, given his headache and nausea.
Each sip lessened the pounding in his head and calmed his stomach.
“What happens if you find your true mate, but you reject him out of fear?”
“I’m still dealing with watching Colin get his dick sucked by a pretty boy with pink hair and jeans so tight I could read his mind.” He had zero emotional capacity for that question. In fact, thinking about it made him want to get drunk again.
Voth smirked. “And what were his thoughts?”
“His hand was on his dick. You tell me.”
“Would you trust it if it happened?” When Abi started answering, Voth held up a hand. “I’m asking you to contemplate the answer. You don’t trust easily, Abi. Not even yourself.”
Voth was right. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t trust the men who had come and gone. Why would he? He was just a passing fancy tothem. None of them ever loved him enough to stick with him after the mating pull had worn off. In each instance, even with the men he didn’t believe and had rejected, he felt as though something had broken inside him a long time ago, and now he was in pieces. It was always his fault. He was the cause of each mating failing. He was the reason for the fakery. Not Colin or the others who came before.
“Eat your burger, Abi. It really will make you feel better.” It shouldn’t, but Abi didn’t doubt Voth.
“If by helping you mean puking, then okay.” Abi smirked, but he picked up the burger and took a small bite. He was pretty sure he had turned green.
He felt better after consuming about three-quarters of it. His stomach settled, and his headache, while not disappearing, had lessened with the caffeine intake.
“Thank you, Voth.”
“Dad vibes, right?” Voth winked at him and then continued cutting bread into evenly proportioned squares for the French toast bake, a Sylvain family favorite.
Abi chuckled. “Totally.”
Voth was right, as usual. The burger settled his stomach. A shower and getting out of his pajamas would further the cause too. With that in mind, he finished, kissed Voth on the cheek, and headed upstairs to his suite.
Chapter Six
Nash had never known wealth that bought five-figure square-footage houses, and he probably never would. Since the average lifespan of a paranormal being was in the triple digits, accumulating wealth was certainly possible. The longer a person lived, the more they learned about life, including how to get and keep money. It wasn’t like Nash didn’t have a nice little nest egg, but emphasis on the little part was key. His egg was a hell of a lot smaller than Spider Sylvain’s. That much was clear the second the car rolled up to the front door.
The chauffeur got out of the car and rounded the hood before opening Nash’s door. He was bald and had tattoos on his head.
That was another thing. Being chauffeured around the city, while nice since he didn’t have to deal with the traffic, was wildly unnecessary. It was also weird, but not as weird as coming to a mobster’s house. Weird and stupid. That was the version of himself he was dealing with, all for the sake of vengeance.
Nash nodded to his driver. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure, sir.” His pleasure, huh? The guy wore a suit to drive a car. Nash doubted that was comfortable. And Nash was the mostboring passenger the guy probably ever had, because he hadn’t talked the entire time.
To be fair, it wasn’t because Nash didn’t want to talk to the guy. The guy was his type of person. He’d fit right in with the Dragon Skulls. He wasn’t a dragon shifter, but Nash’s family wasn’t prejudiced. They’d take in any stray in need of a safe place to call home. Not that the driver needed rescuing, so it was a moot point. His point was that he had nothing against the driver. Nash was just all in his head.
