“23,” Anxo answers while gently scratching my scalp and I lean into his side.My personal heater.
Once the story of my failed escape settled in, there was no mistaking his fidgeting—the reason Angel hadn’t moved an inch from beside me.
“Wow, you’re old.”
With a horrified gasp, Angel tries to stop the bone-relaxing head massage, but I quickly claim it back.
Guessing my need for a pause between heavy topics, Grace and Seiji volunteered to fill me in on changes around the kingdom and what the new Horsemen realm is like.
It felt strange knowing so much about who they were while simultaneously knowing nothing important. Hence my silly questions about their life, work and how old they are.
Turning to Seiji, I ask, “What about you princess?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 22!”what was that?“And I don’t appreciate the nickname sunshine.”
The overgrown teenager pokes his tongue at me when a loud snort in only my response. If he insists on calling me sunshine to mock my fantastic personality, then I’m going to call him princess.
It’s not like he’s missing the poise and attitude of one.
Grace points to Seiji, mumbling ‘Same’ while continuing to stare at me like I’m her favorite puzzle.
Hazel is already glaring at me before I even ask her. I think she keeps hoping her undivided glare will make me leave her be, but too bad for her because it only makes me like her more.
“I’m 26. Go on comment on it, and I’ll bury your ass right where we picked you up from,” she bares her teeth at me. I thinkSharkysuits her better than Hazel.
Since supernaturals age significantly slower after our twenties, I’m not surprised we all look about the same age. Well, except Grace, who will continue to age like a human until she finds her fated mate.
She might be a Bookkeeper but won’t get any ‘supernatural club’ benefits without a mate.
Talking about mates,now that I’m sure everyone here is older than eighteen, I’m confused as to why I don’t see any mates. The lack of hugging and kissing around me gives me an idea, but their mates could be back home for all I know.
“So… mates?” I ask them curiously—except Angel, of course.
Something in my stomach flutters at the thought of being his mate, and Isubtlyinch closer to him.
Hazel folds her arms on her chest and grumbles about how I’m asking too many questions for someone who just woke up from the dead. She can be moody all she wants, but Angel has made it clear that these people are his family, which means they’ll also be a part of my life.
I don’t want my mate to think he has to choose between us because I’m afraid he won’t pick me if it comes down to it.
Anxo has known these people for years and has shared memories and loyalties with each of them. Before I find a way to reach that level, making sure I’m not between them is all I can do.
When Seiji and Hazel take their sweet time to answer a simple question, Grace drops her head back with a sigh.
“I’m human. So, I won’t have one.”
“That’s stupid; you’re also a Bookkeeper.” My sharp response makes her shrink back and fidget with the hem of her skirt. I’m shocked that it’s not just doubt; Grace genuinely doesn’t believe me.
My adopted sister seems pretty stupid in this department for someone so smart. Why hasn’t anyone told her that being a Bookkeeper means her mate will be someone very high on the supernatural food chain?
I’m distracted from figuring out how deep this irrational thought of not having a mate goes when Seiji claps his hands together and leans forward for his turn.
“Well, I’m not-so-patiently waiting for the day I meet mine.”
Seiji goes in-depth about how hard it is to be the most eligible bachelor in the Tetrad kingdom, especially now that Angel is off- market. I don’t even realize when we go from talking about mates to how mixing cold milk in a dry cake mix ruins it by forming lumps.
When Seiji mentions how frosting is a multipurpose tool, Hazel smacks his head with a pillow, calling him a ‘disgusting pig’.
Relaxing in a warm room with people I’m not planning to run from is new.And addicting. I shove that comfort deep down because only fools fall for the first good thing offered to them.
