Page 92 of Caged By the Ruthless Thief

I kick my legs to move over to Chompers, who is less into fetching and more into guarding. She wags her tail at me, and I realize I’m no longer flutter-kicking, but have both of my legs together like I have a fluke. The dark blue mark in the middle of my hand catches my attention as I touch Chompers’ side. She likes scratches on her nose. The mark is another confirmation that I’m changing. I belong here. I’m becoming something new, someone new.

What do you think? Have they had enough?Eros’s voice echoes in my head. He hovers near the airlock.

Mickey still blames him for taking me away. And it’s kind of hard to tell a shark that Eros is the one who brought me back.

Are you done, Sunshine?

Yeah, I’m out of treats.

Well, let’s get going.I can hear the chuckle in his voice.

I’m getting pretty good with the airlocks. And I’ve also learned I need to get cleaned up by myself or I end up attacking my nearest mate.

I dry my hair coming out of the shower and pad into the kitchen where Holter, Nico, and Eros are all waiting. In the middle of the counter is a wrapped package, the kind of package Castor always leaves.

I point to it. “What’s that?” They are staring at it like it’s Pandora’s box.

“That’s the block Castor made for you,” Holter says. Someone has rewrapped it.

“Oh.” I’ve thought about getting it out of the lockbox a couple of times, but it didn’t seem worth it. And while I didn’t like not having it before, especially after the whole Eros thing, I can only imagine what they must’ve gone through, not knowing if I was okay. And yes, the block would have solved it, but it would have also caused some issues. There’s so much we still don’t know about who broke into the apartment before we moved into it. And why would anyone attack a male as nice as Alder? It’s mind-boggling. I stare at it. “Why is it out?”

Holter clears his throat. “We think you should have it.”

“As in all of you?” I peer directly at Nico.

“Yes.” His voice is low and grumbly like always.

“Really?” I push my arm against his.

“Yes, Little Krill, really. You think either of these two could make me say something I don’t believe in?” Nico snakes his arm around me.

“No, I suppose not.” I twist my neck to get a flash of his amber eyes, then I stare at the package a little longer.

I was like that at Christmas growing up. Aunt Blair did the best she could, but there wasn’t much around the tree. I convinced myself it didn’t matter if Allison Drake got a new chemistry set when she was in fifth grade, even though the age guidelines said thirteen and she was eleven. She also didn’t have eyebrows until our first middle school dance. My aunt knew how much I loved books, so that’s what I usually got. Even knowing that, I always took my time. Looking, thinking about what it might be. The anticipation of the idea gave me more excitement or pleasure than the actual item ever did.

I peel back the wrapping. It’s the block. I look at each one of my mates. Nico’s scowling, and Holter’s leaning toward me.

Eros is smiling like he knows something I don’t. “Aren’t you going to turn it on, Sunshine?”

“Yes.” I nod at Eros and pick up the block, pulling the waxed cloth off from around it.

Holter laughs through his teeth.

“What?”

“That, Belle, is the best block out there. I doubt King Atlas has a block that nice.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t keep it, then. That’s—”

“Of course you should keep it. If Castor Drakos wants to spend his money, let him spend his money,” Eros says. “Do you know how to turn it on?”

I’ve watched the guys enough to know. I do what I’ve seen Holter do, but nothing happens. I turn it over, my brow tight.

“May I?” Eros puts his hand out, and I give it to him. “We encoded this one to your DNA. No one but you can use it.” Eros turns a switch. Scans my hand and gives it to me.

“Oh.” I pinch it around the middle, and it glows. It turns on, and it’s like a faucet of words. There’s a green and white icon in the corner of the screen that’s similar to the icon on my phone. I tap it. There are hundreds of messages, and I don’t have hundreds of numbers saved on my old phone.

Names of study partners, my advisor, people from the dorm scroll past, all asking if I’m okay. Am I? I glance over at the guys. My stomach strangles itself into knots. I don’t know what to say.

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