Page 70 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

It’s so raw, so intimate, that I feel like I’m trespassing. My gaze shifts, finding somewhere—anywhere—else to land. Vivien was here long before I entered Grayson’s life, and she’ll be here long after I’m gone. That’s just the truth of it.

“Shadow, come meet my brother.”

Sunday’s tug at the bond is gentle, pulling me back. I slip between Sue and Wade. Colton has Lily clinging to his back, hergiggles bright in the night air, while Gemma’s hopped down and is proudly introducing Mishka—now a very disgruntled-looking platypus in her arms—to her big brother.

“And he’s from Russia, ‘n he knows vampires ‘n Japanese… ‘n stuff.”

“They’ve got spurs with venom, give him here, Gem.” Wade shakes his head, reaching for Mishka—the world’s most stoic platypus. He hoists him up with practiced ease, making it clear this isn’t his first shifter rodeo.

“Gotta find you some clothes, son,” he mutters, turning and striding toward the house, Gemma and Lily trailing after him, their chatter already picking up where it left off.

As Colton takes me in, he projects loudly so no one can possibly miss it, “Another one? Well, you just bellied right up to that all-you-can-eat supe buffet, didn’t you?”

I hesitate for a second, jaw tightening. His left eyebrow lifts, challenging me. “You ain’t gonna just leave me hangin’, are ya, man?”I clasp his hand, it’s a strong handshake.

Sunday jumps in, her tone casual but firm. “Actually, calling Xavier ‘man’ or ‘bro,’ or, God forbid, ‘bruh,’ isn’t really appropriate for a non-binary person.”

And I wait. I wait for that flicker of discomfort. For Colt to pull back his hand—for that look. The one where they take inventory of me and decide for themselves what I am. I brace for it, muscles coiling tight.

But Colt just blinks, his expression open, curious. I feel his gift—similar to Sunday’s but weaker, or maybe more scattered.

“Okay. Got it,” Colt says simply, his smile softening. He doesn’t pull back. Instead, he holds my hand a beat longer, like he wants to make sure I know he means it.

Or maybe he’s letting his influence sink deeper. Sunday’s mentioned that physical contact amps up her gift; maybe Colt’s playing that angle too.

“Good to meet you, Xavier.”

“You, too. Sunday talks about you all the time.”

“Does she?” Colt’s eyes gleam mischievously. He wraps an arm around his sister’s neck, pulling her head under his arm and giving her a classic noogie, his knuckles messing up her carefully braided hair.

Sunday shrieks in protest, swatting at him uselessly as she tries to wriggle free from the headlock. “Colton Prescott, you jerk!” she squawks, her voice muffled. “Let go! You’re ruining my hair!” Her accent thickens on the last word, stretching it out to two syllables, and I love it.

Colt’s laughing, clearly enjoying himself, but the playful chaos is short-lived because, as it turns out, I was watching the wrong bond.

By the time I spot Ben, he’s already moving fast, eyes flashing molten silver. I know what’s coming. Tomas tries to grab him, but Ben zigzags out of his reach. Maybe I could have stopped him, but a part of me wants to see how this plays out.

Ben crashes into Colt like a freight train. There’s a moment of stunned silence as Sunday’s brother lands flat on his back, the breath knocked out of him, his grin replaced by complete bewilderment.

“Ben!” Sunday shouts, her voice cutting through the quiet. But Ben’s already pulling her away from Colt, his hands going to her neck and shoulders, checking her over for damage. His nostrils flare as he tilts her head, his thumb brushing across her scalp where Colt’s knuckles had been.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, his voice low, almost a growl, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of distress.

Sunday swats at him, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “I’m fine! You didn’t need to flatten him.”

Ben doesn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing as he brushes a stray curl away from her face. Pulling her closer, his hand cradles the back of her head.

“You yelled,” he says, as if that explains everything.

Colt finally catches his breath and lets out a wheezing laugh. “Guess I know where that line is now.” He starts to sit up, and Wade leans over, offering a hand to help him. His expression teeters between sympathy and barely repressed humor.

That’s when I notice her—and, in my defense, she is very quiet.

Vivien is suddenly just a few steps away from Colt, her brows drawn together in concern. Gray stands behind her, looking deeply annoyed, his emotions a tangle of frustration, relief, and something else I don’t have the energy to parse.

I give up and shut the bond down.

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