Page 89 of Sinful Mates

“Are you worried about Colton?” She glanced over at the four guards at the door as if she didn’t trust they could defend her against another avatar of Death.

The damn mention of his name turned my body to stone.

Colton could try to make a move against us. The gods would strip him of his avatar status for insulting them in their place of rest and worship. Fuck that asshole, he threw me off. He missed attending to his duties two nights in a row then suddenly turned up when I brought Aaliyah. It didn’t sit right with me. Almost as if he intended to intimidate. I clenched my fists below the table.

Enough of that prick. He wasn’t going to ruin my damn dinner. His fate rested with Slade and the club when we got back home.

For now, she was all mine. I rested my palm on her knee and squeezed. “Fire makes me nervous, baby.”

Images hit of the scarred, burned, broken victims destroyed by flame, the paramedics declaring them deceased and placing a blanket over their bodies.

“When I was on patrol, I attended many house fires.” Consoled victims who survived. That wasn’t counting the terror that accompanied souls to the Underworld.

I didn’t need to spell it out to my mate. As a nurse, she saw the damage and devastation that came into the ER.

Two more serving girls came in to clean up the excess candles.

One tucked her head and asked, “Is that enough, my king?”

By now the mood had been killed. My fault. No police officer or nurse talk at the fucking dinner table. “Take them all away but two.”

Aaliyah clasped my arm and grazed her thumb along it. “We can go back to Bathurst for dinner if it’s bothering you.”

“No,” I said a little too harshly, grinding her knee too hard. Fuck. I was screwing this up. Conflicting thoughts waged for prominence. “I’m not gonna let that asshole ruin our special night.”

Uneasiness ruled in the smile she forced. She lost her appetite too. All this food wasn’t going to damn waste. I piled a plate for her, shifting it in front of her.

When she didn’t start on it, I took matters into my own hands. “Eat, baby.”

Her lips curled around the date I set to her mouth. Blood rushed between my legs at how she made an innocent move sexy.

Liquid that drained courtesy of the burden on her soul. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

The way she squirmed said she didn’t want to broach the topic, but I wasn’t letting it slide. “Talk, or I’ll use my Underworld powers to drag it out of you.”

“Alaric’s worried he’ll be locked up.” Fuck. Mood killer. “Are you concerned about that as well?”

“It’s been on my mind.” Nothing I’d say aloud to alarm her.

“It’s been on mine too.” She glanced down at the hands she fiddled with in her lap.

I took them both, cupping them between my palms. “If I go to jail, it’s because the gods judge me wrathful.”

Just like in the Underworld, my fate was decided by a higher power, not a human court of fucking law. My heart would be weighed against the feather, and if it was heavier, I would go to jail. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

“Fuck, that word,” she cursed under her breath.

I unpacked her words. Jail? Gods? Wrath? Most likely the latter. “You got a problem with wrath?”

“I’ve got a problem with all the sins.” There it was, the burden on her soul.

“What specifically?”

“I’ve been thinking about all the sins I’ve committed.”

“Baby, I told you Danny deserved it for all the women he harmed. If it were otherwise, I would know.”

Still, she remained unconvinced. “It’s not just wrath I’m guilty of. I wanted what my father and brother had.” She picked up a bread roll, broke it apart, and tossed the fragments on her plate. “Envy, huh? The great sin.”

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