Page 13 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

“I’d love to wait for him to weigh in, Trouble,” I reply, “but we’ve got things to handle today.”

She slips off Ben’s lap, and I feel his disappointment like a dull ache in my own chest. We all watch as she begins pacing, her brow furrowed in thought. She commands the entire room, every movement deliberate. Finally, she stops, as if reaching a decision.

“Okay, this is HQ for the day. We don’t leave him alone, and we get the damn door fixed. We shower and dress in pairs.” She pauses, then adds, “And where’s Mishka?”

Ben answers, “When Francesca offered to let him stay at her place, he jumped at the chance.” He shrugs, his gaze drifting to the balcony doors. “I told him he was welcome to sleep here, but I guess he likes being with the otters.” His eyes linger there, and his voice softens. “He promised me he wouldn’t run away again.”

His unease ripples through the pack bond, a quiet thread of worry we all share as we consider what that eight-year-old has endured. “Should I have made him stay with us?” he asks, uncertain.

Sunday turns to him, her expression softening. She cups his cheek gently. “For now, we need to trust what he tells us. Maybe he just needed to get away from the castle—to have some space from all of it.”

X nods. “Val offered him a bed in her room too. He knows he’s wanted. We’ll probably see him after they take their morning swim.” They pause, then smirk. “Now about the shower…”

I brace myself, fully expecting them to claim Sunday as their shower partner—because, let’s face it, we all want to. But they surprise me, tilting their head toward Ben. “I pick Ben to be my shower buddy.”

Sunday frowns, her eyes narrowing playfully. “I think I need you all to say you want to shower with me and then let me pick.”

I can’t help but laugh. She’s just so real—no pretense, just flailing and having feelings down here with the rest of us. So, I say it as seriously as I can manage. “I insist on showering with you.”

Ben clears his throat, his ears tinting red. “No, uh, I want to. Showers are kind of special to us. It’s where we first…” He trails off, his eyes darting to the floor.

Xavier grins and kisses him swiftly before shooting to their feet and striding over to crowd Sunday. “I haven’t seen you in days. That makes itmi turno.”

Sunday’s smile softens, and she leans in to kiss X on the mouth before turning to me. “Okay, I pick Tomas.”

Ben and X let out exaggerated, theatrical groans of disappointment as Sunday’s cheeks flush pink. A warm smugness blooms in my chest.She picked us.

Chapter Five

Bad Pennies

— Sunday —

We end up taking the light-blocking panels back down after making sure Gray is thoroughly protected—one blanket, then a second, and finally, heavy curtains pulled tight. It’s too stuffy in the room for all four of us, so we throw open the balcony doors, letting the salty onshore breeze roll in.

Breakfast is at the big wrought-iron table outside. For a moment, I let myself breathe and just take it all in. Tomas sips his espresso, reading glasses perched on his nose as he scrolls through emails. Shadow leans back, pretending to relax, but their eyes sweep the roofline and railing, ever watchful. Ben sits close to Tomas, drawing strength from his steady presence, then reaches over to push more food onto my plate. Tomas notices, a small, fond smile touching his lips.

Almost perfect. We just need Mishka and Grayson now. Then I’d have everyone right where they belong.

But before I can get too cozy in that “everything’s fine” bubble, reality elbows its way back in. We still need to find Roxana and end her. Even without her souped-up compulsion, she’s a never-ending pain in the ass. Speaking of which…

“Did anyone find the cuff Roxana was using to control Lys and Gray?”

Shadow’s hand jerks, nearly knocking over their glass of juice. Their face tightens, a flicker of turmoil crossing their features. I reach out to steady the glass, my fingers brushing theirs, andsend a wave of calming reassurance through our bond. It’s okay.We’re safe now.

Tomas, oblivious to the silent exchange, continues. “We searched the entire throne room but came up empty. You said it was a black bird that took it?”

I nod, my attention still on Shadow, watching for any sign that they’re not okay. That was clumsy of me—bringing up the object used in their torture so casually over breakfast. They recover quickly, giving me a small nod of reassurance. I pick up my fork and take a bite, trying to project an air of normalcy.

“Maybe one of Rurik’s ravens, then,” Tomas says. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he added the snake cuff to his collection.”

I pause, concern spiking at the thought of an overpowered Rurik. But Tomas doesn’t seem bothered. He wipes the rim of his cup with a twist of lemon peel, as if we’re discussing the weather.

“So, you don’t think he’d use it?” I ask.

He sets down his demitasse and meets my gaze, his expression curious. “You broke the enchantment, right?”

“I think I did. But itwasmoving—slithering away from her—so maybe there’s still some mojo left.”

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