A Twist of Luck (Shifter City Fated Mates #2)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

EMME

H unter left me to get dressed, and when I was outfitted in comfy sweats and Kellan’s hoodie, I headed back down the hall to the blue room. I didn’t want to disturb Finley’s time with his brother, so I slowly poked my head around the corner.

What I saw had my chest tightening once more, and tears rimming my already swollen eyes.

Finley had dragged the chair Slade had been in earlier closer to the bed, and with his head bowed, his huge fist gripped the front of Kellan’s shirt. He didn’t speak or even look up, he just held on to him. Even from the doorway, I felt the pain and desperation bleeding off the bear shifter, and was thankful I’d had my breakdown in the shower already, or I’d be an actual mess on the floor.

Knowing Finley wouldn’t appreciate me interrupting his moment with Kellan, or witnessing his pain, I started to back away. Despite my socked feet not making a sound on the wood floors, Finley’s head still shot up, and once again I drowned in the whiskey depths of his eyes.

His thick, dark lashes fluttered as he sucked in a ragged breath, and then exhaled just as heavily. “I need to get to practice,” he murmured, and it was weird to hear his husky voice without any bite. Apparently, he was too wrecked to even hate me today. “You’ll stay with him?”

“Yes, of course. I don’t plan on leaving his side except when absolutely necessary.”

Finley released his brother suddenly, his fingers flexing as if they were stiff from how tightly he’d been holding on. “He’d like that.”

As he stood, he gave Kellan’s supine form one last look, before he strode from the room. When he passed me, I barely felt his usual Grouchy Bear anger. It bothered me to see him grieving but at least he had hockey to help. I might not know him well, but I knew that the ice was his therapy and salvation, and he needed both more than ever today.

When he was gone, I hurried over to Kellan, placing my hand on his chest and sighing at the steady thrumming of his heart. “Hey, Golden Boy. I missed you.” Leaning over, I nuzzled against his cheek. “Daddy Alpha is out of sorts with you like this. Not that he hasn’t always taken care of me when I needed it, and even when I didn’t , but today he was extra gentle. Slade is beating himself up that this is his fault, and Finley is falling apart, so I need you to stay strong until we can figure out how to heal you.” I swallowed roughly, choked up once more. So much for expelling my pain in the shower; it was an endless pit at the moment. “You promised you’d follow me through this world and into the next, and I’m holding you to that promise. I need you, Kel. I’m not sure I can live my crappy existence without you in it.”

I was absolutely sure I couldn’t.

I’d been shocked when he’d said that if I didn’t exist then he didn’t exist—I’d never had anyone care that much about my existence. But now I perfectly understood the sentiment; I couldn’t imagine living in a world without Kellan. I refused to imagine it.

I needed to ask Hunter if they’d found my phone on the back road of Golden Claw. I wanted to scroll through the group chats and escape from reality for a while.

For the next few hours, I sat with Kellan. I spoke to him until my voice was hoarse and I’d run out of shit to say. I told him every detail of my woeful childhood, and the dreams I’d held for years. The only truths I kept from him was what my mom’s pack did to her, and how she died. The words got stuck in my throat every time I attempted to spill those final secrets.

Twice now, I’d tried to tell the alphas this truth, and twice the universe had intervened in the most explosive way. It almost felt like a sign to keep my mouth shut. With Kellan stuck in a magical spell of containment, it really didn’t feel that important anyway. The truth, and my past, weren’t going anywhere, and I had many more pressing issues to worry about.

Through all my conversations, Kellan never moved, flinched, or shifted. It was as if he lay in the deepest of deep sleeps, and as grateful as I was to hear the steady beat of his heart, it wasn’t enough. I missed his dark blue eyes, and how they turned violet when he was aroused or angry. I missed the animation in his face when he teased me or his pack brothers. I missed the lightness he brought to this house filled with more serious alphas.

I missed him.

Florence brought food for me in the early evening, and I managed to eat a few bites and drink some water before my stomach rebelled. The only reason I ate at all was that Kellan would be upset with me for not looking after myself.

When my legs cramped from sitting for so long, I got up and walked around his room, taking in the small personal touches. Along with his impressive wall of weapons, I loved the greenery he had scattered around. Every corner, shelf, and window ledge had a leafy green plant, giving his space a homey and cozy feel.

Stopping by the main wall, where he’d mounted dozens of swords, guns, knives, crossbows, and axes, I wondered what had inspired his love for weapons. There were even a pair of scythes that looked like they’d been stolen straight out of a reaper’s hands. It felt odd to correlate the easygoing, sweet alpha with his murder wall. But… then again, I couldn’t forget how he’d held Sorenson off the ground like he was a child that day. There was a streak of darkness in my golden alpha, and I liked that part of him just as much.

“You like weapons, Kel?” I asked with a chuckle, looking over my shoulder. “I hope I get to see you in action one day.”

It was my own fault that I knew so little about the alphas. I’d been afraid to learn too much and find out they weren’t monsters; it was easier to keep my distance that way. But now I wanted to know it all. Did Kellan just collect weapons or was he trained to use them as well? Were those rough patches across his palms, the ones I’d traced for hours over the last few hours, from more than just hockey and working out? If so, when did he start? What were his parents and siblings like? He’d told me he had brothers who lived in the family compound, but I hadn’t had a chance to meet them yet.

For the first time, I really wanted the whole picture.

When I moved on from the murder wall, I stopped at the overflowing bookshelf tucked into a corner. Along with two crowded shelves of hockey trophies and medals, there were many paperbacks squished into every other available space. Despite my poor reading skills, I picked up a few of the novels, curious to know what genres Kellan enjoyed. I’d never seen him with a book in his hands, but no one had this many if they didn’t enjoy reading.

On both covers I grabbed there was a half-naked couple embracing. A weird gurgling laugh escaped me.

Romance.

I lifted another to see the title Bonekissed , with a similar suggestive couple pose. Book after book held the same vibe, mostly fantasy, with vampires, fae, shifters, and witches . What the heck was a fae ? Even more importantly, Kellan enjoyed reading romance, which was overall less surprising than his wall of weapons. It also explained why he always had the most perfect and romantic lines up his sleeve. He’d been trained by the best of the best.

According to Kerry Anne, who’d been my manager at Wahl’s Diner in San Diego, romance books were the ultimate guides for males. I’d never seen her without a book in her hand during her breaks, and she’d tell me the plots while we worked. She also introduced me to audiobooks, which I’d been able to afford approximately once a year.

I was hit with the urge to read the same stories as Kellan, but it would take me months to finish this book. My best hope was that he’d wake up soon and tell me the plots of his favorites, sharing that way with me.

“I can help you.”

I spun around, clutching a book about a stalking vampire to my chest. “With what?” I asked, looking around quickly before returning my focus to Slade, who was perched in the doorway.

“I can help you with your reading.”

Annoyed embarrassment filled me, coating my cheeks red. I’d mentioned my lack of schooling and weak reading skills before, but Slade was the one shifter who saw deeper into my true weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

He always saw deeper.

“It’s not just a lack of schooling,” I said, forcing myself to breathe evenly in the hope of willing my embarrassment away. “My brain is kind of fucked up. Letters and words mix all around, and I can’t seem to make lines of text stay straight. They jump up and down the page.”

Slade’s expression never shifted. “Yes. I’ve noticed the way you squint at the page. Based on the symptoms I’ve compiled, I believe you’re dyslexic.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, and I tried not to let my shock and distress spill across my face. “You think I’m dyslexic?”

I’d heard the term before of course, but only in passing as customers chatted about their children and school. I wasn’t sure what it actually meant, or how it was related to my reading inability.

Slade nodded. “Yes. It’s a reading disorder that affects many. There’s nothing wrong with you, and you’re not stupid.”

Through my continued shame, because a disorder didn’t sound like an affliction to brag about, there was also a sliver of suspicion at his reference to being stupid. I’d been telling Kellan about it only a few minutes before I got off the bed, as part of my task to share with him all my life’s secrets.

I discreetly glanced up, but couldn’t see any cameras, so maybe it was a simple coincidence.

“Dyslexia is a reading disorder,” Slade repeated. “It has no correlation to your intellect. You just need to understand how your brain works and find the tools to help overcome the obstacles. I believe I can help you.”

Despite the years of hating my own flaws, a part of me was hopeful that maybe there was a way to improve. “I’m almost twenty-six,” I whispered.

A rumble rocked Slade’s chest. “Yes, on the twelfth of December.”

Another spike of suspicion, since I was fairly sure my birth had never been recorded, and I sure as shit hadn’t told them.

“Yes. Don’t you think I might be too old to learn how to read now.” Just talking about this had my heart beating faster. I’d spent years not drawing attention to my weaknesses. But when Slade acted so matter-of-fact, it did help me look at it clinically too. “I’ve made it work for most of my life. No point trying to force a round peg into a square hole when I’m already grown and dealing.”

Slade straightened, and when he stepped into the room, the atmosphere danced with new tension. “You could learn to be a nuclear physicist now . Or a cardiovascular surgeon now . Or how to build rocket ships now . There’s nothing you can’t learn, Snow. If you’re brave enough to take the chance.” His shrug was elegant, despite his massive, muscled shoulders. “If you’re afraid or can’t be bothered though, I won’t waste my time.”

The jab wasn’t as sharp as others he’d directed my way before, and for the most part I was glad that the dragon never tempered his words. He gave you his exact, unfiltered thoughts.

He gave you his truth.

He walked away before I could respond, leaving me to wonder if I should add dyslexia research to the list of shit I had to do over the next few weeks. The irony of needing to read information to find out about my reading disorder wasn’t lost on me. Along with omega research, my brain was going to start screaming at me.

Neither of which was as important as making sure Kellan woke up.