Page 75 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

“Your wolf needed it,” I say softly, and it’s not a question. He nods, still avoiding my eyes. I step closer, leaning against the counter. “I get it, Tomas. I really do.”

He shifts in his seat, his fingers drumming against the side of his laptop.

“I also… I fed him,” he says, almost too quietly, like he’s testing how the words sound out loud.

“Did he… did he order you?” I ask gently, careful not to let my curiosity turn into pressure. Tomas looks up, eyes widening slightly.

“No,” he says, shaking his head quickly. “No, it wasn’t like that. He didn’t demand it. I offered. I could tell he was struggling with Vivien’s absence.”

I take a step closer, resting my hand on the edge of the table, and decide to ask the question that’s been nagging at me since last night. “So, yeah… about Vivien.” I hesitate a moment, then add, “Did they always spend the day together? I mean, why was he so worked up over where she dies?”

Tomas closes his laptop, the soft click of it echoing in the quiet kitchen. “Vivien had her own apartment, and they rarely stayed up so late that she’d sleep over.” He pauses, his gaze softening as it settles on me. “He was upset because… she’s his chyld. He’s been waiting for her to need him. And his inner vampire—his monster, as he calls it—is possessive. They all are when it comes to their chyldren. But in his defense, he didn’t compel her, and most Makers would have.”

I swallow, nodding slowly as I process his words. I can see it now—behind Gray’s cool veneer of control, he’s struggling. Vivien didn’t need him, didn’t run to him the way his ego demands. And for someone like Gray, someone used to being the foundation for those around him, that kind of rejection cuts deeper than anything.

The sound of bare feet shuffling across the wooden floor catches my attention, and I turn just in time to see Ben and Shadow making their way into the kitchen. They’re both still in a half-asleep haze, hair mussed, yawning as they lean into each other, a picture of easy comfort. Ben’s arm is slung over Shadow’s shoulder, and their hand rests lazily on Ben’s hip as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. There’s something about seeing them like this that makes my heart swell. In the midst ofeverything, complications everywhere I look, there are moments like this that I need to commit to memory.

“Morning,” Ben mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. He leans down and kisses my cheek, smelling of spiced cookies and my jaguar. Then he grabs a mug from the cabinet, his eyes barely open, and starts pouring coffee, careful not to spill. Shadow gives me a sleepy smile, sliding into the chair beside Tomas, their hand reaching out instinctively for their Alpha, and gliding across his arm. I’ve noticed a deepening intimacy between the two of them since the pack bond came into play, some of Shadow’s sharp edges softening.

“Morning,” I say softly, my gaze flicking between them. I take a deep breath, knowing now is as good a time as any to bring up what’s been weighing on me. “I wanted to talk to y’all about something.”

Ben pauses, halfway to the fridge, and Shadow straightens a bit, looking more awake. Tomas glances at me, his brows lifting slightly, so I take the opening.

“I know last night was… a lot,” I start, choosing my words carefully. “But I’ve been thinking about this two-house situation, and I want to get it sorted before it turns into a bigger problem.” I glance at Tomas, and he gives me a small nod, encouraging me to continue.

I nod, exhaling slowly. “Right, so how do we do that?”

Ben snorts softly, a smile tugging at his lips. “We buy two of everything. Clothes, toiletries, coffee mugs—whatever we need. No more packing bags.”

“Two of everything?” I raise an eyebrow. “That sounds a little expensive.”

Shadow smirks. “You’re the one who said she needed a beach house yesterday.”

“I was drunk on the power of the landed gentry,” I mutter, crossing my arms, but I can’t help but grin.

Tomas chuckles, his gaze warm. “Well, we have plenty of money, and this is a lot more practical than a beach house.”

“I just don’t want this to feel like we’re camping out every time we switch houses. I want it to feel like… like we belong, wherever we are.”

Tomas nods, his expression thoughtful. “We could make some big online orders,” he suggests, his voice practical. “Clothing, toiletries, housewares—double of what we need, and have it shipped overnight. We’ll make both places comfortable, stocked with everything we’d need to stay at either for a while.”

Shadow’s eyes brighten a bit, and they lean forward, their hand brushing over Tomas’s arm again. “That’s a good idea. And we should think about the little things too—like books, and games. Things that make it feel like our own space, not just somewhere to crash.”

Ben leans back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the ceiling, his brows knit slightly. He takes a slow sip of his coffee. “We should probably be thinking about Mishka, too,” he says, glancing between us. “He’s been staying with Wade and Sue, and the twins. He needs rooms at both places, but…” He trails off, his fingers tapping lightly against his mug. His voice drops, softening with concern. “I don’t know, I’m worried he doesn’t really want to be around us.”

I reach over, placing my hand gently over his, “Ben,” I say softly, “kids don’t think that way. Mishka’s been through so much, and right now, he’s got something really good with Lily and Gemma. Maybe… they’re his first age-appropriate friendsever.”

He looks at me, his expression conflicted—I can feel the concern that he’s somehow failing his son. It hits me right in the chest, that familiar ache of wanting to be everything for someone, and not knowing if you’re enough.

Tomas clears his throat, “It’s more than just having friends his age,” his gaze turns toward Ben, “The girls can talk to Mishka—it’s a connection on a level he’s probably never felt before. He feels like he fits in, not just socially, but… on a metaphysical level, his animal has found belonging too, he’s half-wolf and that is so important to us.”

Ben goes quiet, his fingers stilling against his mug, and I watch as his shoulders slump just a little, the worry deepening in his eyes.

I don’t hesitate. I climb out of my chair and into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, my forehead resting against his. His hands find their way around my waist, holding me close, and for a moment, it’s like everything else fades away.

“He loves you,” I whisper, my fingers brushing through his hair, trying to soothe the ache I feel from him. “He’s a kid, and he’s trying to figure out where he belongs right now. You just keep showing up and he’ll start to look for you.”

“I just… I want him to know he’s got a place here. That we’re his family, too.”

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