Page 96 of Ferocious Nightmare

Twenty-Seven

A month later,we stood outside the large King mansion.

Marisol clutched her hand to her face, a soft sob escaping her lips. "My cocina." My kitchen.

I wrapped an arm around her comfortingly. "Your next kitchen will be even better."

She just nodded. "Whatever you say, mistress."

I bit down on my smile, loving her new term for me, then took in a deep breath, inhaling the smell into my lungs.

Gasoline.

Dios, it was glorious.

Of course, they didn’t know about that, yet. But they were about to find out.

There was a movement to my right, and I turned, my lips pulling up into a grin as I watched Bourbon, Coulter, and Rose walk up the path from the old maid's house. They’d gone to say goodbye, and I gave them the privacy to remember the sister I never knew.

Rose's nose was red, like she'd been crying, but she had a smile on her face.

I watched as Rose's face turned upwards towards Bourbon, and he cupped her jaw with one hand, leaning over to kiss her. The love they radiated filled my own chest with warmth, and my eyes fell to Coulter.

Walking away from them, his gaze was intense as he came to stand next to me.

I let go of Marisol and wrapped my arms around his neck, standing on my tippy toes to reach him. His golden eyes were trained on me, his arms holding me to him tight, as if he would never let me go. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

We were leaving this place and starting new.

The old King was gone, replaced by an even better one.

They were officially burning bridges, and the past.

"Yes." I nodded, brushing my lips softly over his. “Besides, it makes a statement. There's a new King in charge. Nothing will remain of the old one. Every last remnant of that man will be eviscerated."

"Ready?" Rose walked up, along with Bourbon, who smirked at Coulter's arms around me.

"Fuck yes." I pulled the lighter out of my pocket.

“Why does it smell like gas?” Bourbon asked.

“Whatever this is,” Coulter grabbed the lighter from my hand, “it’s not happening.”

"Hey!" I squealed. "That's mine."

"Only because you stole it from me." He pulled me into his arms, "And the gas smell has nothing to do with your pyromaniac tendencies, does it?”

"Well," a small smile played at my lips, "maybe a little."

"Mmm, I thought so." Smiling, he kissed me, his fingers digging into my skin possessively. His lips tasted like love and forever. Like an eternity in a moment.

Like he belonged to me.

I smirked, shrugging. "I don't know."

"Aster," that scowl of his was back in place. "What did you do?"

"Give me back the lighter, and I'll tell you."

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