Page 66 of Fated Exile

Searching inwardly, I admit, "Not very. But the mating connections are there. I can sense them inside my head."

Cat, who's reddened in the cheeks but still somehow unashamed, looks me straight-on and asks, "Do you feel stronger? Like maybe you absorbed their energy from their spunk and now you've got more of it inside you?"

I raise a brow at her and ask, "Did Niall coming inside you fill you with strength?"

"We used a condom," she says, not even missing a beat. "I did hear about the complete lack of protection on hand in the Mating Circle, though I did what you told me and didnotwatch. Niall informed me that there's some kind of energy field that prevents unwanted pregnancy during the event, but I hope you have some on hand now it's over. Remember, just because—"

"Just because he says a condom won't fit, doesn't mean it won't." I roll my eyes at her, the familiar lesson repeated enough in my teenage years that I don't even squirm in embarrassment at it anymore. "And whilesomemen may say they're too big, usually they're lying to themselves, and if they're not there are sizes for that. I should always keep them with me, never leave them in the sun or a hot car, and have a backup method in case one fails. I know, I know, you've told me all of it."

"Good." Cat beams at me, then glances over at Bastian, a distinct Cat-eating-the-canary expression on her face. "I just want to make sure that you're prepared, just in case you decide a sixth round is in order. After all, you're too precious to the pack for us to lose you to late-stage syphillis!"

Rolling my eyes, I tug Bastian towards the stairs, push him up, then turn on Cat and remind her loudly, "Werewolves don'tgetvenereal diseases! Also, not that it's any of my business," I slide my eyes to Niall, who pointedly doesn't meet my gaze, "butsomeoneshould know that you have a boyfriend in San Francisco, a friend with benefits in Beijing, a lover on the side in Jersey, and a poly couple you swing with in New Orleans. Just in case you didn't mention it tosomeone."

Brows raising, Niall mildly comments, "It may have come up. Mostly when she was showing me a few things she learned."

Open-mouthed, I look over at Cat. She just shrugs and smirks at me, very smug and far too pleased with herself. Stomping my foot, I tell her, "Mothers should be more boring than this!"

"Not this one, Lilah dear."

Sighing, I huff off down the hallway towards my bedroom, throwing agoodnightover my shoulder. There's a pleasant series ofgoodnightsechoed back at me, including one from Bastian just before I hear him head up the stairs. Then I'm in my bedroom, door closed, and I peel my secondhand borrowed clothes off, throw them on the ground, then fall naked into bed with fresh sheets around me. Soon the pillow smells like a mixture of my hair and the masculine mates who buried their faces in it, mint and citrus mixing with snowfall and cinnamon, each of them setting off a different kind of emotion within me.

Long after I'm drifting off, I hear a not-so-distant groan of pleased desire.

So I grab my earbuds, shove them in my ears, and pray that when I wake up there'll be no surprises for me in the kitchen. Unless, of course, those surprises involve a five course breakfast, which is Cat's usual way of saying she's sorry when her chaotic love life bumps up against mine.

It's like she saw me have five werewolf mates and decided she'd get one of her own to add to her menagerie.

Knowing my mother, by this time next Tuesday Niall will be in love with her and quite willing to sit around twiddling his thumbs while she galavants around the globe with various lovers, as long as she returns home to him from time to time.

I suppose it was inevitable I didn't wind up in anormalhuman relationship.

* * *

I creep warily down the hallway in the morning, ears pricked for any moredirtysounds. Just in case, I laid in bed for an extra while before getting up, showering, and slowly dressing for breakfast. The last thing I want is to discover that Cat and Niall's late night fun time has extended into the morning hours.

But the only sounds that greet my ear are of the cooking variety, splashed with a side of Cat's morning go-getter music. She's got the pop tunes cranked up, and Bastian is sitting at the kitchen table, relaxed and digging into a plate of waffles with a side of runny eggs and crispy bacon.

Relaxing, I walk up to him and drop a kiss on his forehead, feeling his spark of pleasure through our connection. He hums happily through a mouth full of food. Raising my eyes, I cautiously glance towards the kitchen counter—and try not to imagine the image that was seared into my mind, splashing out again in front of me.

I fail. Blinking, I dash the cringe-worthy sex away, and focus my gaze on Cat instead. She's moving from the frying pan, to the waffle iron, then to the cutting board and the fridge and back again. Juggling so many plates looks effortless from here, but I know that it's skill speaking.

She spots me and waves with her spatula, not even blushing a little, the damned woman. "Pancakes or waffles?"

"Both." Glancing around, I frown. "Where's Kerry?"

"I set her up in the office on the spare bed. She's probably still sleeping. All the activity last night wore her out." At my worried expression, she quickly adds, "I'm sure she's fine. It's just a big adjustment, sleeping in a new place, surrounded by strangers. And she lost so much all at once."

My heart twinges, and I feel selfish for being excited at my aunt's presence in my house, when the tragedy that brought us together stole everything from her. She lost her entire coven in one fell swoop—every woman she grew up with and toiled beside. I can't imagine that something like that is easy, and here I am, treating her like an encyclopedia of knowledge instead of someone in need of love and support.

"I'll bring some coffee up to her," I tell Cat, grabbing the handle on the coffee pot and pulling two mugs down from the cupboard. "Save a few slices of bacon for me."

"Oh, there'll be plenty, no worries! I'm frying up a whole pound."

I glance meaningfully towards Bastian, whose ravenous hunger echoes in the back of my mind like a yawning crevice. "I'm pretty sure he could eat a pound all on his own. Better make it a pound and a half." Grabbing one of the still-hot slices, I shove it in my mouth and add, "Actually, make that two pounds. I burned a lot of calories last night."

Cat rolls her eyes. "Not as many as you might think! Now, if you really want some cardio during love-making, there's this one position—"

"Gotta go, 'cause I don't want to hear this!"

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