Page 7 of The Fated Mate Bandit

4

LUCAS

Every scent in this house is a comfort. The bathroom has hints of Silver’s cologne and the thick blanket he gave me from his own bedroom has the distinctive musk that’s 100% him. The guest room he lets me sleep in whispers of family visits. Coin’s scent is on the pillow, and the sheets smell like Ruby’s favorite lotion.

I promised myself I’d be strong if I came here and not get swept up in how wonderful Silver is. But I inhale each scent longer than I should, savoring how safe I feel in this place. The large bed with its four pillows and soft sheets is so different from the mattress on the floor at home. For the first time in months, I fall asleep easily.

When I wake the next morning, there’s a moment when I forget about what happened last night. I forget about the fight with Daryl and the way he struck me across the face, even though he promised he would never hit me while I was pregnant. I forget about running away with nothing but the clothes on my back and my phone. I even forget about using Daryl’s Uber account to get a ride to Silver’s neighborhood. I open my eyes, fully expecting to be in our tiny bedroom with Daryl asleep at my side.

Silver’s guest room is bright and big with some of the picture frames from his moms’ home hanging on the walls. Photos of his brothers grinning at the camera remind me why I came here in the first place. Silver has always been more than an ex-boyfriend to me.

Once upon a time, he was my home.

I slowly sit up and get out my phone. There are twenty calls from Daryl and a long string of messages. As I scroll through them, reality comes flooding back.

I’m sorry. I lost my temper. Please come home.

Where are you?

This isn’t funny, Lucas. Get back here.

You’re starting to scare me. Answer my calls.

Call me back. It’s two in the morning.

WHERE ARE YOU?

Look, I know I messed up, but this is starting to get ridiculous.

Call me back.

Please call me.

A knot of dread forms in my stomach. If I go back to Daryl, I know he’ll forgive me. I’ve certainly done it before. The first time he hit me, I stayed at a motel for a full week before I went back. I promised myself that I would never let an alpha treat me the way my father had.

But it turns out that motel rooms cost more money than a server at a diner can afford, and going to a shelter was a lot scarier than what Daryl might do to me. So I returned to our apartment and said my apologies. Things got better for a few months, and then he did it again. During the first year, I walked out every time it happened. But after a while, it was easier to skip the threatening-to-leave stage. I knew I wasn’t really going to do it. At least not longer than a few days. I had nowhere to go and no way to make it on my own.

What is my plan here? Last night, I was so certain that I couldn’t stay if Daryl was going to hit the kids, too. That’s what he did when he hit me so hard I fell down onto my stomach. The flurry of kicking in my womb while I laid there on the floor scared me. Did he hurt them? Would some part of their brains remember that pain?

Would my children grow up fearing their alpha dad as much as I feared mine?

I can’t go back. I don’t know what I’m going to do, I just know that I won’t put my pups through that. I hide my phone under the pillow without responding to Daryl.

My stomach rumbles with hunger. First, I’ll get something to eat, then I can figure out a plan.

I wander out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Silver is sitting at the kitchen table, typing on a laptop. At some point, he swapped out his pajama pants for white-washed jeans and a T-shirt that hugs his biceps and pecs in all the right ways. I feel a little guilty for how much I enjoy looking at him. Technically, I’m a bonded man.

Maybe that doesn’t matter once your alpha hits you. I don’t know.

“Um, hi,” I say awkwardly.

He looks up at me and smiles. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

“Good. Thank you.”

He stands. “I haven’t had breakfast yet. How about I make us some pancakes? I could whip up my mom’s buckwheat pancakes that you like so much.”

I make those pancakes for myself on days when I feel lonely. They remind me of sleepovers with Silver and his brothers, and being allowed to eat until I was full.

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