I turn to Seiji next. “What about you, princess?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-two!”
Strange way to answer a simple question.
“And just so you know, I don’t like that nickname.” The overgrown teenager sticks his tongue out, and I snort.
I love giving people nicknames based on their major personality traits. They help me adjust how I should interact with them.
When I ask Grace, she points at Seiji and mumbles, ‘Same.’
Hazel is glaring at me before I can even ask her. If she thinks that attitude will make me back off, she’s sorely mistaken.
“I’m twenty-six. Comment on it, and I’ll bury your ass right where Anxo found you.” Hazel bares her teeth. I thinkSharkysuits her better than Hazel.
Since supernaturals age significantly more slowly after reaching their twenties than humans do, it makes sense that we all look about the same age. Grace is the only exception to that rule here. She’ll continue to age like a normal human until she finds her mate. She may be a bookkeeper, but she won’t get any of the ‘supernatural club’ benefits until she’s officially mated.
Speaking of…
“So, will I be meeting any of your mates?”
Hazel crosses her arms over her chest, grumbling that I’m asking too many questions for someone who just woke up from the dead.
She can be as moody as she wants, but these people are Angel’s family, which means they are now mine, too.
My mate has a history with these people. They share memories and loyalties with each other, and until I can build my own connections with them, I need to make sure Angel doesn’t feel like he has to choose between us.
When Seiji and Hazel take their sweet time answering, Grace tilts her head back with a sigh. “I’m human. I don’t have a mate.”
“That’s stupid. You’re also a bookkeeper.”
My sharp but casual rebuttal makes Grace shrink back in her seat. She’s back to fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, and I’m shocked that she genuinely believes she doesn’t have a mate.
How has no one told this sweet, naive girl that bookkeepers usually end up with someone very high up on the supernatural food chain to protect their gift?
I’m still confused by Grace’s irrational fear when Seiji claps his hands to get my attention. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and grinning with excitement. “Well, I’m not-so-patiently waiting for the day I meet mine.”
Seiji launches into how hard it is being the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom—especially now that Angel is off the market. I don’t even realize when he goes from talking about mates to how mixing cold milk in a dry cake mix ruins it byforming lumps.
When Seiji asks me to pay attention because frosting is a multipurpose tool, Hazel smacks him in the face with a pillow and calls him a ‘disgusting pig.’
Sitting in a warm, bright room with people I’m not planning to kill or run from is… new. And a little addictive.
It scares me how quickly I got comfortable with them. This warm feeling in my chest could be false hope. I could be the fool who fell for the first good thing offered to her.
But maybe Ishouldfall for this. Maybe living with people who aren’t out for my blood and are kind to me and my boy wouldn’t be so bad.
Now that Hazel is the only one left who hasn’t answered, I wait for her to finally enlighten me on how she feels about the mate bond.
The stubborn siren ignores my stare, but I don’t give up until my persistence irritates her enough to make her talk.
Hazel’s button nose scrunches in annoyance as she finally gives in. “I don’t have one.”
Wow. Another idiot who thinks she doesn’t have a mate. What is it with the women in this room thinking they don’t have mates?
“She doesn’t mean it.” Angel shushes Hazel.
“Uh, yes, I do.” The lie is as transparent as that glass wall I almost smashed my face into this morning. “I would’ve found them otherwise. Face the facts, Anxo. I’m 26, and I’m never finding my mate. They’re probably deep in the fucking ocean, happy with theirchosen matesince I’m on the stupid dry land and out of their fucking reach.” Her voice gets tighter with every word.
