Page 40 of Kissed By Shadows

“Thanks, boss.” Dayton blushes and his cheeks become redder when he looks over at me. I wiggle in Roman’s hold, but he just pulls me closer while also managing to smack my arse. “Uh, see you around, Iris.”

“See you soon, Dayton.” I smile, giving him a small wave and a what-can-you-do-with-alphas shrug. He chuckles, saying goodbye to the guys before grabbing the jet-black scarf I knitted him and then heading out of the door.

Hunter finally turns his gaze to me, checking me over like he needs to make sure Dayton’s report is accurate. “Hello, Peaches.”

A shiver makes its way across my skin at the sound of his deep voice calling me the nickname that he doesn’t use for anyone else.

“Hello, Daddy,” I tease, my core tightening as his nostrils flare, his eyes filling with a banked heat that promises all kinds of fun.

“He really likes when you call him that, sweetheart,” Roman whispers against my ear, and my nerves light up, tingles racing across my skin as his hot breath fans over me. “He likes taking care of us all, like our Daddy should.”

“Oh!” I gasp, clearly taking Roman by surprise because he lets me down as I unwind my legs. “I have something for you.”

Hunter’s brows dip and I hurry over to the sofa to rummage in my project bag.

“For me?” he asks just as I pull out the scarf I finished yesterday for him. It’s a mottled green, from the deepest emerald to a bright grass green with a hint of neon.

“This one is, yes.” I beam, striding over to him and holding it out. “None of you dress properly for winter so I made you a scarf to keep you warm.”

I swallow as his brows dip further, his eyes darting from the scarf to my face and back again.

“You knitted me a scarf?” he asks, his voice quiet, and there’s a thickness to it that makes my breath catch.

“To keep you warm,” I say again, going up on my tiptoes and wrapping it around his neck. My point about them not dressing properly is proven by the worn leather jacket he wears with only a hoodie underneath. It’s January for fuck’s sake. “I made you each one.”

I place a kiss on his cheek, his slight stubble rough on my lips. Lowering back down on my feet, I start to twist, intending on getting the twins theirs when Hunter’s arm comes out and circles my waist. I gasp as he pulls me close so not a breath of air lies between us, our fronts pressed together.

“No one has ever taken the time to make something for me, Peaches,” he tells me, his voice gruff as his eyes drink me in, causing a fever to burn under my skin. “Or even really cared if I was cold.”

“I care,” I whisper, my hands coming up to tie the scarf in a knot. “Can’t have you catching your death out there, lord knows there’s probably enough people after you that you need every advantage you can get.” He huffs a laugh but doesn’t deny it, and something inside my chest twists. I don’t like the idea that he, or the twins, are in danger. That the average life expectancy of a gang member is so young. Hunter has already passed it and the twins have reached it. I googled and it made me nauseous to see the low number.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice revenant as he cups my cheek before lowering his cold lips to mine.

My entire body relaxes into him, my hands sliding up his neck and into the back of his soft hair. He groans into my mouth, demanding entry with his tongue, and I open for him, my heart beating fast as he immediately deepens the kiss. There are no half measures with Hunter because he dives straight in and takes what he wants. I swear my knees go weak at the first stroke of histongue against mine, his arm a steel band around me as he kisses me like I’m the answer to every question he’s ever had.

After what feels like a lifetime, he pulls away, both of us panting as we gaze into each other’s eyes.

“You’re welcome,” I breathe out, a boyish grin transforming his face into something so beautiful that my heart skips a beat, my lips tingling.

“Can I get mine now?” Roman whines from behind me, and I giggle while stepping out of Hunt’s embrace. He lets me go, reluctantly, and I walk back over to my bag, pulling out the deep chocolate brown of Roman’s scarf and the mottled amber brown of Rowan’s.

“Here you go,” I say, turning to find Roman right there, practically bouncing on his toes. “Impatient boy!”

“Hunt’s right, no one ever gave enough of a shit to make us anything,” Roman tells me, his laughing eyes dimming, and there’s a pang inside my chest at seeing his past trauma dull his light.

“Well, I’ll make you lots more if you like? I can do hats, gloves, jumpers, though they take a bit longer,” I reply, tying the scarf around his neck.

“It’s so soft,” he whispers, scrunching it between his fingers while looking down at it and then back up at me. “Thank you, Princess. And I want all the knitted stuff. Please.”

He swoops down and smacks a kiss against my still-tingling lips before quickly stepping aside so I can give Rowan his scarf.

“Thank you, Little Lamb,” Rowan murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine even as he copies his brother and runs his hands over the soft wool.

“Well, make sure you wear them when you go out,” I tell them, glancing around at all three of them, my gaze settling back on Rowan. My brows dip as my chest tightens. “I hate that you’rein danger sometimes, I was worried the whole time you were gone.”

The usually harsh planes of Rowan’s face soften, his fingertips coming up to stroke my cheek as he eliminates the space between us.

“It’s the life we lead, Little Lamb. We’ve been in danger our whole lives,” he gently tells me, and my eyes sting.

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