Chapter Fifteen
Farren
T he first thing I notice is the pile of small bags by the door. Clearly, they’re coming more prepared than I am. The second thing is the smell of coffee and breakfast, which makes me frown.
“I thought we needed to leave?” I ask the others who are already out here doing various things to prepare.
My question is met with silence, and I tilt my head to the side questioningly as I look over them, waiting for them to reply.
When no one answers me after five minutes, and they’re still staring, I ask, “What?”
That finally seems to snap them out of it, and for some reason, has Storm suddenly very focused on whatever he’s cooking on the stove, a different kind of spark burning between his horns, it’s almost smouldering.
Rival and Mayhem’s cheeks turn slightly pink, and they busy themselves by readying their empty weapons harnesses.
Reaper just looks at me with a hungry look in his eyes, leaving Loki and Killian to share a loaded look and what I can only describe as a downright filthy smirk.
“You look fucking stunning,” Loki practically growls.
“I’m half tempted to say fuck it to this bullshit mission and spend my day worshipping you instead,” Killian adds.
My thighs clench. I know first hand how well he can make my body fucking sing for him, and the thought of actually having him inside me almost makes me take him up on the offer.
“Fucking hell,” Storm mutters loud enough to hear from the kitchen area of the room, “the food is ready. We need to get going. Grab your bag from your room and put it by the front door,” he says to me surprisingly with no underlying tone.
"I have everything I need,” I reply, taking a seat at the table and loading my plate up with food like the others.
He eyes me up and down for longer than strictly necessary and then scoffs. Ah, here comes the insult I was missing in the first instance.
“You’ve only got three weapons Princess, rookie move.”
“Storm, we’ve only got the one each that we store in our rooms. She’s got more than us.
Could you give it a rest? She can pick up more in the armoury like we’re going to,” Mayhem snaps, and it’s the first time I’ve heard him even vaguely lose his cool.
He’s usually so calm and collected, even in a fight.
I stand up, having finished my breakfast already since I practically inhaled it and didn’t bother to stop eating when Storm started in on me.
Giving Storm a level look, I say, “I am getting really fed up with you fucking underestimating me all the time. I’m used to it from other people, but whether you like me or not, we are still a team, and we cannot afford to question or doubt each other.”
Storm’s eyebrows rise slightly at my words.
Not giving him a chance to reply, I move over to the coffee table and start to take off all my weapons, laying them all on the table and even taking the hairpins out that double as a garrotte.
By the time I’m done, the table is almost overflowing.
Reaper lets out an impressed whistle as I turn back to the guys.
“As you can see, I am more than prepared for any eventuality and will not be needing to go to the armoury.”
“I apologise,” Storm says, shocking me as his eyes don’t leave me, and he misses the reaction his words have on the others. “You are right. Underestimating each other could be dangerous out in the field.”
Despite my shock, I manage to reply, “Thank you.”
“Well fuck me sideways. Storm apologised and said someone else was right. You must be something special, Little Warrior,” Reaper grins.
I decide it might be best to ignore that comment since Storm is being friendly for a change, and I don’t want to push it. I quickly put all my weapons back where they belong.
“If you guys have got another backpack, I’m happy to help carry some stuff,” I say, gesturing needlessly to the pile of bags by the door.
“Sure, hang on,” Rival says, getting up and making his way to his room. He comes back out and hands me a small leather bag that will fit comfortably on my back and not restrict my movement so I can still access my swords with it on, perfect.
“Shall I just take something out of each bag?” I ask.
“Put what you need in it first, and then we can fill up whatever space is left.”
“I really do have everything I need,” I reply, and then because of the sceptical look he gives me, I add, “I’ve gone out with less for longer.”
“What do you mean?” Reaper asks, joining the conversation and tilting his head to the side in a purely animal gesture.
I realise my mistake immediately. I don’t want them to know about how early my father was sending me out on assassinations or how many I’ve done.
Even Killian doesn’t know the extent of it, although I'm sure he’s guessed.
I haven’t been as careful with my words around him as I am with everyone else, which is probably why I keep slipping up now I’m used to speaking more freely around him.
“It doesn’t matter. Just share out what’s already in the bags.
At least it’ll be less for each of us to carry then,” I pray that they both let it go because I absolutely don’t want to explain anything right now.
My past is bloody, and if I questioned whether Storm hated me before, I do not doubt that he definitely will after he finds out that part of my dark past.
Rival nods and takes the bag back, going over to the door to start sharing the stuff out evenly between them all.
Reaper, though continues to stare at me, his eyes narrowed slightly, his nostrils flare as he takes a deep inhale and it's at that moment that I realise that whatever kind of shifter he is, he can smell emotions and usually only Alpha’s can, which solidifies my original theory that he might be one.
It's on the tip of my tongue to ask him once and for all what he is, but the words catch in my throat as he takes a large step toward me, and I have to tilt my head up to meet his penetrating stare. Surprise flares to life in his yellow eyes as I simply stand there staring up at his massive figure without backing up or looking nervous. He doesn’t scare me.
In fact, I’m curious about him, and if I’m being completely honest, I find him seriously fucking hot.
The fact that he looks like he could lift me easily with one hand is a massive contributing factor, that and his arms are the size of my thighs.
I stay deathly still as he bends down, hooking one giant arm around my waist at the same time his lips graze my ear.
“If you carry on looking at me like that, Little Warrior, I’m going to be tempted take you right fucking here, and I’m not sure you’re ready for that,” his voice is a gravelly purr in my ear, and I couldn’t stop my sharp inhale or the shivers that cascade down my spine if I fucking tried.
My reaction to him is why I speak without a filter, “I think you’d find me more ready than you’d assume, but we do have to get going, and if I ever get the chance to climb you like a fucking tree, I want more than a quickie.”
He groans as his arm tightens around me and brings me closer, holding me flush against his taught body and extremely hard dick. Fuck me sideways, it's huge.
“Naughty,” he chastises mildly, “you distracted me. I actually wanted to say that I know there are things that you haven’t shared,” he pauses as I stiffen in his arms, “let me finish, I know there are things that have caused you a great deal of pain, and if you ever want to talk about it I’m here.
Whatever you tell me will not go beyond us two.
I have a feeling that we may have more in common than you think. ”
He leans back slightly, searching my eyes. Although his offer terrifies me, I understand the sentiment behind it, and I nod my head.
“I can’t promise I will ever take you up on that, I think some things are better left in the past, but if I’m ever ready, it’s you who I’ll talk to, thank you.”
“I understand,” he replies, and surprisingly he really looks like he means that.
In another move that shocks me, I’m sensing a theme today, he leans towards me again and gently kisses my cheek, causing tingles to erupt on my cheek, and I resist the urge to touch it.
“I wanted you to know that I’m here for you if you need me. ”
“Thank you,” I reply.
“Alright, let's get going!” Storm barks out, but he seems to be sticking to the request the guys made of us last night and is keeping the snarky comments to himself.
I was so wrapped up in Reaper that everything outside the two of us completely disappeared.
He smirks as my cheeks pinken, and I step back from him, not quite able to hide the awkwardness I feel.
Rival hands me the backpack, and we all make our way out of the apartment so that the guys can stock up on their weapons.
I pretend to ignore the curious looks that dart between Reaper and me as he walks as close to me as possible without actually touching me.
I can’t help but search out Killian, though.
For a long time, it was just him and me.
Even though we only saw each other sporadically, and I’m sure we each had other romantic encounters, it was never in front of one another.
Although this wasn’t romantic, at least not obviously, and we haven’t committed to each other, something just urges me to check in with him.
I think it’s most likely because of my own confusion.
I’m starting to feel things for the others that I have only really felt with him.
More than just need, actually feelings, and I have no idea how to deal with that.
I just know that I absolutely can’t lose Killian. He’s my rock, and there is no way that I would’ve survived the last goddess knows how many years without him, even though I couldn’t get to him in the last three, he was still with me in my thoughts urging me not to give up.