He returns to his breakfast, completely relaxed and unconcerned, and it helps finally snap me out of it. I’m not this person; anxious and rattled, overthinking every little thing. Amara was a shock to my system, opening old wounds and every fear I’d long since thought buried, bringing them to the surface. Now that I’ve had time to look at the situation from a few different angles, I can see how this was a blessing in disguise. Amara balances each of us out well, and we can offer her the security and stability that she desperately needs.
The tight pressure I’ve been carrying around in my chest for eons finally unfurls, and I feel like myself again for the first time in far too long.
Kodi opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. “It’s not cause for concern that she’s still asleep. After years of being on the brink of starvation and sleeping with one eye open, it’ll take some time before she’s at a healthy place.” Still, I strum my fingers on the table to stave off some of the restless energy building in my veins the more my conviction settles into an actionable plan. “She agreed to stay with us where we can ensure she’s safe. Are you seriously going to ask for anything more like that wasn’t a miracle in the first place?”
“Fuck, no, you’re right. It’s just-” he rakes a hand through his disheveled hair “- two days? I know she needs to sleep, but she needs to eat, too.” Shoving away from the table, he storms off to the kitchen.
Setting his toast down with a weary sigh, Raiden twists in his chair to watch him go. “What are you doing?”
Kodiak’s voice is muffled as he sticks his head in the fridge, rummaging around and grumbling under his breath. “Compromising. Pretty sure there’s some cheese slices or something in here that can fit under the door.”
Rolling his eyes, Raiden returns to his food with a small smile, and his amusement is contagious. No matter how he tries to hide it, Kodi’s a golden retriever at heart. A twisted son of a bitch, but loyal to a fault, and a hopeless romantic that will trip over his own feet at the smallest scrap of attention.
Amara’s perfect for him. Kodiak needs to be needed, and there’s no one that could give us a better insight to what might be going through her head than someone that barely survived Hell himself.
Leaving him to his antics so long as he’s not bothering her, I start in on my breakfast. Raiden takes a sip of his coffee, and for a few minutes, it’s like the old days. All of us alone together, comfortable in the silence simply because there’s someone nearby to help absorb its crushing weight.
“Those aren't necessary anymore, you know.” Raiden gestures to my latex gloves and I pause.
I don’t even recall putting them on this morning, it’s such an ingrained habit, one that I’ve dealt with for millennia. “That... will take some getting used to.” Taking another bite, I offer a noncommittal shrug. “They make Amara feel better, though, so I’m in no rush to discard them simply because I can. I’m surprisedyouhaven’t been more careful with her around, knowing the risk.”
Raiden meets my gaze, raising an eyebrow. “She’s my mate whether or not I wear her mark. If I allowed something terrible to happen to her, it wouldn’t take the curse to end my life.” Before I can get a word in edgewise, he leans back in his chair with a rare smirk. “But seeing as I already do, I stand by my statement that the gloves are pointless.”
Suddenly choking, I thump my fist against my chest, reaching for my glass of water. The entire time I’m sputtering, he sits there with a shit-eating grin. Soaking up my reaction, he misses Kodi’s return, our brother-by-choice kicking the chair leg on his way past and sending Raiden crashing to the ground.
“You motherfucker, how long were you holding onto that secret?” he demands, taking his place at the table with a petulant scowl.
Raiden can’t stop laughing as he rolls to his feet, and my annoyance disappears as swiftly as it came. I can’t remember a time he’s seemed so... alive. Happy.
“Blame Stone. He literally threw her into my arms, and the blast sent us rolling over each other.” As he straightens his chair, the ever-churning smoke in his irises writhes in earnest like I’ve never seen before, almost as if his demon is enthusiastically reacting to being claimed. “Besides, why waste time fighting fate when it clearly knows what it’s doing? She’s everything we didn’t realize we were missing.”
A faint scraping of wood has us all immediately shutting up. Settling back around the table, we attempt to act natural, but if Kodi’s face is any indicator, we epically fail. Amara shuffles into the room, and my heart skips a beat. I thought she’d stubbornly still be in the same outfit she arrived in, but she took me up on the offer and raided my dresser. Absolutely drowning in my clothes, the grey sweatpants are rolled at her waist and ankles so she doesn’t trip. She gave my shirt the same treatment, rolling up the white sleeves to her wrists, yet it still hangs halfway down her thighs.
I think I need to revoke my offer to replace her clothes, because she looks perfect in mine.
Kodiak dramatically clears his throat, grinning at me making an absolute fool of myself blatantly staring at her. “How’d you sleep?”
She remains in the entryway, using her fingers to comb through the knots in her hair. “Better than I have in ages. Regretting not braiding my hair first, though.”
Kodiak hops up from the table, jumping at the chance to be useful. “Lucky for you then that these two are princesses about their hair, so there’s definitely something around here that should help. Please hold.”
Raiden and I flip him off in tandem, but he’s already strutting out of the room on a mission. I haven’t set foot in this house in, gods, forty or fifty years? Raiden usually stays in our main house up in the mountains bordering Khalida, and by how abysmally this place is stocked, it’s been a while since he’s been out here either. Every legion-owned property has a room set aside for each of us with a few basics, though, so we always have somewhere to crash depending on where our work takes us, and fuck Kodiak, but he’s not wrong. Maybe it was because we were born in different eras, back when chopping off a man’s hair was a sign of shame and punishment, growing accustomed to it during our long stints away from home during countless wars, or simply because it was the typical fashion during our formative years, but neither of us can bring ourselves to ever cut it shorter than our shoulders.
Raiden takes his plate to the sink, asking over his shoulder, “Is there anything in particular you’d like for breakfast, Amara? We saved you a plate, but there are also brand new boxes of... cereal.” He shudders. “So much cereal.” Without either of us around to force a vegetable down Kodiak’s throat, it’s no surprise he’s surviving on whatever junk he can get his hands on. “Or you can supervise while I make you something else if you’d prefer?”
As he washes his plate, he misses the way that she stiffens. Pinching the edge of one sleeve, she rubs the fabric between her fingers, attempting to conceal her obvious discomfort, but I recognize the signs and can practically hear the thoughts whirling around in her head. Not wanting to be ungrateful, worried that whatever she picks we won’t have on hand, and it’ll put us out even more. It was hard enough getting her to accept us paying for the adjoining hotel rooms this past week, and the only way we could get her to take any food was if it came from Avery, where she could pretend it was stolen, so free game.
Giving too many options to someone that’s not used to having any can be cruel in its own right. Indecision has her squirming like we have her under a microscope when she’s spent her life trying to remain invisible.
“Cereal, or delivery from the diner down the street?”
The tension coiled in her shoulders releases instantly. “Cereal’s fine.”
I lead her to the pantry so she can pick which one she’d like when a chill runs down my spine. Glancing over my shoulder, I find all of the color drained from her face, staring at the threshold behind me like it’s a portal leading straight to Hell.
Voice reedy and weak, she trips over her words. “Actually, you know what? Delivery sounds phenomenal. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve splurged on something like that.”
Ensuring I keep my movements slow as I retreat and close the pantry door, I watch her out of the corner of my eye. As soon as it snicks shut, she releases a shuddering breath, instantly appearing ten times better. By the time she’s taken two steps, there’s a harsh scowl on her face, and she’s glaring at the tiled floor as if it personally offended her.
