Page 57 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

Shadow and smoke dance together.

The rightness of it staggers me. I curl up beside him, my lips and tongue brushing over the mark, tending to it, wishing he didn’t heal so damn fast.

Then, I bite him again.Because I can.

Chapter Twenty Three

A Blindfold and a Cigarette

— Sunday —

My coffee comes loaded with cream, sugar, and syrup today. Shadow’s mission to surprise me every morning continues, and today’s honey almond latte does not disappoint.

The big porch stretches out to either side of me, half-wrapped in the shadows of the early morning, while the birds busy themselves with their dawn gossip. It’s a different kind of quiet—not exactly like home, but close enough. I love this place. Grayson’s really surprised me.

Shadow sits behind me on the porch swing, fingers deftly working through my hair, sectioning it off and weaving it into something intricate. The tug, the movement—it’s soothing. Inter-pack grooming isn’t something I ever thought I’d need, let alone crave, but here we are. I’m still sorting through my impressions from last night, feeling privileged to have been there for Grayson and Shadow’s bonding—and kind of wondering if I’ll get to play with them again. Because good lord, the heat those two produce could raise sea levels.

“You’re tense this morning.” Shadow’s voice brushes my ear, almost lost beneath the birdsong. Their claws glide through my hair, separating strands, and each accidental scratch on my scalp is exquisite.

“Hmm? Am I?” I murmur, tipping my head back just enough to meet their gaze. They arch an immaculate eyebrow at me.

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s all just sinking in. The house, everyone being back… Vivien coming…”

I let the words trail off, my gaze slipping over to Tomas. He’s sitting on the steps, staring out at the trees, but I know he’s not really seeing them.

He’s nursing a mug of black coffee, his eyes distant and his shoulders stiff. He came home late, couldn’t have gotten more than a few hours’ sleep. His wolf slunk onto the bed around five a.m., pressing his nose under my arm—seeking comfort or offering it; I couldn’t tell.

He’s been off since last night, and I can’t decide whether to poke at it or let it lie. He’s not looking at me or Xavier; he’s lost in his head, and it’s eating at me. I hate when we feel out of sync—hate it even more when I’m not sure if I should be pushing or pulling.

The birds keep singing, the morning stretches on, and somewhere out there, Ben’s probably on his seventh mile. Guess he got winded last night and decided he needs to ‘get back in shape.’ Better him than me.

Shadow finishes my waterfall braid, letting it fall softly down my back, then leans over my shoulder to grab the mug from my hand. They catch my earlobe between their teeth, tugging just enough to send shivers cascading down my arms. Then they take a sip, a smile tugging at the corner of their lips as they savor the taste.

“Tomas is brooding. Classic wolfy behavior,” they say, voice low—teasing, but gentle.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

I glance back at Tomas again, this time giving in to the urge to say something. “Hey, Alpha. Wanna join us over here?”

He startles, blinking as if coming back from somewhere far away. “Nah. I’m good here.” He rubs a hand over his jaw, hissmile not quite reaching his eyes before he looks away again, shoulders tight with something he won’t share.

I sigh, and Shadow presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “Patience, Amor. He’ll come around,” they murmur, their lips warm against my skin.

“Yeah, I know,” I whisper, resting my head against Shadow’s shoulder. “I just hate waiting. He’s not even on his phone. Is the world ending? Should I be worried?”

Just then, a rustle in the yard catches my attention. I turn to see a big, droopy bloodhound loping out of the tree line, ears flopping as he makes his way toward the porch. It takes me half a beat before I realize—it’s Ben.

I can’t help the delighted laugh that bubbles out of me. “Well, hey there, Banjo! Where’d you leave your clothes?”

I get down in front of him, my hands immediately going to scratch behind his ears. He leans into the touch, his big hound eyes half-closing in pleasure, and I swear he looks like he’s grinning.

“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” I croon, rubbing the soft fur on his head. “Coming back just to see me?”

Shadow snorts behind me. “I think he’s here for the ear rubs. Can’t blame him—I’d be too.”

Tomas finally surfaces, brows drawn together, staring down at Banjo Ben. “Why did you shift?” Banjo doesn’t answer—he can’t—but he’s still a very good boy.

“Let him up, Trouble,” Tomas says, his voice tight, eyes still searching Banjo for answers he can’t give.

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