Page 87 of A Bond with the Dark

I have to make sure to put her mind at ease.

“Besides,” I say softly, “if this talisman works, I’m dating a witch who can take away their darkness which may win you millions of brownie points with the vamps.”

25

A BOND WITH THE DARK

SAYAH

The following day, I wake to the sounds of pans banging around and no Dom in my bed.

Rising from the sheets as my heart rate quickens in a soft panic, the sound of Gauge’s giggle echoing up the stairs eases my fears immediately.

I dress and head down there to join them.

“Oh, hey, good morning,” Dominic says as I enter the dining room. “Sorry if we woke you. Little man woke up and wanted pancakes, so I got up and started making some.”

“That’s fine.” I smile, taking a seat on the barstool. “How did you sleep, love?” I ask Gauge.

He’s in the kitchen, helping Dom prepare the pancakes. He has flour on his cute chubby cheeks and is stirring the batter in a bowl on the top of his lap, clad in SpongeBob pajamas. “Good. How did you sleep, Mama?”

“I slept good, baby. Thanks.”

I’m totally in love with the sight of my man and son making pancakes together in the kitchen. Then it dawns on me that this is the first time I’ve ever seen Dom in natural light.

Even though the sun isn’t blazing into the windows yet, as my house is dark in the kitchen, I still wonder how he can stay out of the sunlight completely.

His perfectly sculpted jawline, his chiseled core, wearing nothing but his jeans and muscle shirt as he flips the pancakes. The tattoos that snake his body, his dark, spiky hair, the eyes that are green—for now. The secret that he was burdened with for so long used to drape him like a cloak, and now that I know his secret, his aura is lighter, and his eyes pick up on things that they used to linger on with sadness.

“All right, buddy, here, let me take that,” Dom says, taking the whisk from him and setting it in the sink. “Okay, now, carefully pour a small circle right here.”

Gauge obliges and carefully pours the mixture onto the hot griddle. “Like this?”

“Yes, that is perfect. You’re an amazing sous chef.”

Gauge smiles while pouring another circle, then wrinkles his nose. “What is a sous chef?”

“A sous chef is basically a chef’s assistant. The second in command.”

“Oh, cool, I like that.”

“Yeah, you’re an important pancake maker.” He leans down to whisper in Gauge’s ear, but I can hear him. “Your mom will be the final judge of our pancakes, though.”

Gauge sniggers and continues to pour the fluffy mix.

When the pancakes are done, I sit at the table, Gauge setting my plate down for me that beholds two fluffy golden pancakes with a perfect square of butter.

“Syrup, Mama?” Gauge asks, handing me the bottle.

“Yes, please, thank you, love. These look wonderful.”

“All him,” Dominic says, sitting down across from me.

Gauge remains in his chair.

“How are they?” Gauge asks as I take the first bite.

“Delicious! Perfect, love.”

---