Page 41 of Bad Blood Alpha

Jenny snorted. “Right.”

Kira washed the blood and glitter off at the sink, noticing that the glitter was, in fact, dissolving. Brandon scrambled up on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, which had a booster seat strapped to it. “Pantercakes!” he announced, as Jenny strapped him in. “Time for pantercakes!”

“You mean pancakes?” Kira asked, amused.

Brandon scowled at her. “Yous get pancakes,” he informed her. “I’s a panter, so I gets pantercakes. Right, Alfacat?”

“Sure, kid,” Flynn said.

He sounded like he didn’t care—until Kira saw him pour some of the batter he’d been mixing into a smaller bowl, and add powdered cocoa and chocolate syrup. He ladled it out on the griddle—a big brown circle with two pointed ears. He let it cook for a minute, then flipped it. Kira watched open-mouthed as he added yellow jelly beans for eyes, a pink one for a nose, and thin white chocolate straws for whiskers.

Flynn slid a spatula under it, and expertly maneuvered the whole thing off the griddle and onto a plate. “Who likes panthercakes?” he asked, looking around the room.

“Me! Me!” Brandon shrieked.

“Panthercakes are only for panthers.”

“I’s a panter!”

Flynn cocked his head, doing a stern alpha frown. “You sure?”

“Yes yes yes!”

“Okay then.” Flynn put the plate in front of the little boy.

Xander slathered butter and syrup on it, and then Brandon proceeded to demolish the pancake panther, managing to smear syrup and melted chocolate from his chin to his hairline in two seconds flat. Flynn shook his head, ruffled Brandon’s hair and went back to the stove.

He loves them. It hit Kira like a punch in the stomach. Flynn loved his whole demented crew, no matter how much he complained about them, or how often he had to smack them into line.

Tears stung the back of her eyes, and she slipped away from the kitchen and out the front door so no one would see. She headed over to Flynn’s truck and started pulling her things—and his—out of the back of the cab. So she’d have an excuse, in case anybody wanted to know why she wasn’t inside with everyone else.

She piled her bags on the ground, and then leaned against the side of the truck. She was selfish. All her life she’d been told that she was the center of the universe—the special one who was going to empower her people and save the dragons. Even after there was no one left to save, Markus had still insisted she had a great destiny.

She’d been told that so long she’d never questioned it. She’d never thought about whether it was worthwhile, or how many people might have to sacrifice themselves to make it happen. She was dragon royalty—that’s what people did. The entire Elite Lion Guard of Al-Maddeiri had existed specifically to sacrifice themselves for the House.

Flynn was the only one who’d escaped. And after her power started to go haywire, she’d hunted him down because hey, he’d made a promise to protect her.

A twelve-year-old boy. Of course he’d taken the oath. He’d been told all his life he didn’t have a choice. That it was his honor to sacrifice himself for her.

So she’d come and shoved herself into his life. Accepted his warmth and his caring and his protection. He’d held her last night after her seizure, and given her his body to try to make her whole again.

He’d given her a little piece of his soul—whether he would ever admit it or not. He gave little pieces of his soul to all the shifters he tried to save. He was grumpy and blunt and acted like everyone got on his nerves. Hell, maybe they did. But he loved them just the same.

His crew obviously loved him back. But he had no one to love him truly—not the way the others loved their mates.

Had she taken that possibility away from him? Had they already cemented the magical bond, so that he’d never be able to find a real mate?

She dumped the bags onto the porch and walked off, away from the sounds of the crew.

Flynn’s crew. His family. A family that could never be hers.