Page 38 of Enticing Monsters

Ifurrow my brows as I stare intently at my phone screen, waiting for Serafina to respond to my text. I haven’t heard from her all day, and that worries me immensely. Normally, I receive a “good morning” text from her first thing when I wake up, but not today.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Tristan attempts to reassure me from where he stands in the kitchen, scrambling eggs, his hair still messy from sleep. “Xander isn’t here either. They’re probably on a date or something.”

“Have you tried texting Xander?” I query.

We woke up this morning to discover Xander had already left the apartment for the day. That’s not too unusual, considering it’s the weekend and he works as a liaison for the council, but he usually leaves a note or something if he’s gone before we’re up.

Unless he left in a hurry…

Worry for my mate, now compounded with fear for my cousin, threatens to strangle me.

Where the hell are they?

“They’re fine. They have to be fine,” Tristan murmurs as he begins to beat the eggs a little more aggressively.

I glance at my cousin in alarm from where I sit at the counter, finally noticing just how many dishes he made for breakfast. Besides the eggs, I spot a plate of fluffy pancakes, bacon strips, sausage patties, sausage links, toast, and what appears to be yogurt parfait.

“Do you think we have enough food yet?” I try to keep my voice light and teasing, even as anxiety twists in my gut.

He’s been a freaking mess since we rescued him from Ms. Summers, and I hate seeing him like this. The guilt and blame he feels for what happened to me is written across every line of his face. I thought our talk before helped calm him somewhat, but that doesn’t appear to be the case.

However, who am I to judge how he heals from his trauma?

Xander has referred to his condition as MHS—Mother Hen Syndrome. I can’t say I disagree. It seems to please Tristan and his wolf to take care of and provide for us.

I can’t begrudge him for that, even if all of his attention on me in particular makes me uncomfortable.

Tristan ignores my question and begins scooping the scrambled eggs into a serving dish. “Do you need any more coffee?”

He has already refilled my cup three times, and I’m practically bouncing around the house. Honestly, I don’t even like coffee that much, but I can’t refuse when he asks.

This time around, Tristan doesn’t even wait for me to respond before he’s hurrying forward with a pot of fresh coffee. He pours it into my nearly filled mug and then rushes back to the stove. A second later, he materializes in front of me once more with a plate stock full of breakfast foods.

I don’t have the heart to tell him I already ate some cereal before he woke up.

Instead, I smile timidly and accept the plate and silverware. “Thanks, man.”

He nods once, mutters something too low for me to hear, and then scurries away.

“Did you eat yet?” I ask after taking a bite of eggs.

I have to give Tristan credit—that man cancook. His eggs have been seasoned to perfection and are covered in a light sprinkling of freshly grated cheese.

“Not yet,” Tristan says absently as he begins to clean up the kitchen. “I will after everyone else eats.”

“I’m the only one here, bro.” I attempt to flash him a smile, but it probably comes out forced and wobbly.

I honestly have no idea how to talk to him anymore.

Tristan was once my best friend in the entire world. We were even closer than brothers. Now, we’re trying to painstakingly glue back together a relationship that has been fractured one too many times. The pieces don’t seem to be fitting together anymore.

I’m honestly not sure we’ll ever get back to the way we were, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe we’re not meant to be those bright-eyed, idiotic boys from before life went to hell. After all, those boys’ relationship imploded in a plume of debris and shrapnel. Our relationship has only just begun.

“This is really good.” I gesture wildly with my fork as I speak. “You need to try it.”

“Yeah?” Tristan perks up at my words, and I can’t help but think that if he were in his wolf form, his tail would be wagging. “You like it?”

“Sit down and try for yourself.” I gesture towards the seat beside me, and Tristan hesitates, biting down on his lower lip.

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