EMERSYN
The next few days were a blur.
I continually had nightmares that kept me up at night.
They usually centered around all of this being a dream.
In my nightmares, all of it was ripped away and I was back in the darkness—it looped between the hunters, Riggs, Octavius, and Mahoney’s island.
I started to hate going to bed. I knew Griffin still posted up in the hallway, and I knew he wasn’t sleeping either.
Whenever I emerged from my bedroom, we’d silently creep down to visit Seven where he thankfully would regale us with stories and soon have both of us laughing.
During the day I would workout and spend time with my father.
We would take walks through the sprawling backyard, or go downstairs to the gun range he had on a sublevel.
Sometimes we would talk about things, but never anything to do with the past. It hung over us still, but every day was a step in the right direction.
I got to know Kaelin a little bit better too. She helped me do some online shopping for clothes, and insisted on ordering every single thing I could possibly need as a woman, and then some things I didn’t even know I needed.
She was great, and while it was a little strange to see her with my father, they fit in a way I was coming to appreciate.
The added factor of Graham had come as a surprise, but he fit too.
The three of them made the best team, and I found myself studying them more and more and wishing for something similar—something that tugged at the edges of what I knew was possible if I let it.
But, was I the one hesitating? I didn’t want to have to choose between Griffin and Seven.
Maybe that’s why I hadn’t taken the next step, because I didn’t want to open up a future where one of them wasn’t in it.
They were both inching their way into my heart, into my blood, into my entire being to where I looked for them—sought them out—needed to be in their presence to feel whole.
It scared me. I worried something like Riggs would repeat itself where I would lose myself in them.
I also worried I’d lose them when we inevitably went to war.
Which is the direction we were headed. I felt the house settle into a lull before a storm.
There was healing that needed to be done, but there was also planning.
I was shocked to discover this was a house of patience, but then again, my father had told me he spent years planning his revenge against Vetticus, so it only made sense he would be meticulous about Mahoney too.
When I asked what the plan was, he said things were being done behind the scenes and that we’d have a sitrep soon.
It was easy to see why he was so respected by everyone around him when everything was handled with competence and forethought.
I’d just gotten back from a walk with him, and we were in the kitchen, when Nyx appeared.
“There you are!” He said. “I think you’ve been avoiding me.”
I pointed at my chest as I took a sip from a water bottle I’d just pulled from the fridge.
“Yes, you,” he teased. “I need help making blueberry scones—”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
I looked at my father for help but he fought off an amused look and held up his hands.
“I’m not allowed anywhere near the kitchen while Nyx is cooking,” he said. “Find me later, Em, if you want to head down to the range.”
I nodded and he was gone, leaving me alone with Nyx who looked absolutely beside himself with glee at having managed to get me alone.
“How are you at cracking eggs?” He asked.
“Uh, fine I’m sure. Can’t be that hard,” I said with a curious look.
Nyx shook his head and dug through the fridge for the supplies he needed.
“You’d be surprised. West once tried to help me make a quiche and when Atlas asked what the crunchy stuff was, I had to tell him there wasn’t supposed to be anything crunchy in it.”
I couldn’t help it, I grinned.
“So, hopefully you fare better than he did,” Nyx smirked.
Nyx was a whirlwind in the kitchen.
“The trick is using frozen, grated butter—”
He showed me how to mix the ingredients and rattled off instructions, all while simultaneously creating something else on the other side of the kitchen.
There was something cooking on the stove, veggies being chopped, and he’d just put something in one of the ovens.
I couldn’t keep up. But, it was nice, and doing something with my hands that wasn’t holding a weapon was relaxing.
Nyx was also hilarious and before I knew it, he’d pulled more laughter from me than I think I’d ever been capable of in the last decade.
That’s probably what drew Griffin.
Nyx spotted him first and a sly smirk appeared. “Perfect timing, Griff. You can help Emersyn put the scones on a baking sheet.”
Griffin looked like he was about to protest, but I sent him a help me look and that seemed to solidify his resolve. He came over and stood close. So close I momentarily got distracted by the heat and solid mass of him.
“You’ll have to show me what to do,” he said quietly.
“Fuck if I know,” I muttered. “I’ve never even had a scone before.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Nyx chuckled. “You can’t fuck it up at this step. Actually, forget I said anything because I don’t want to discover that there is a way—nevermind. Just make sure it goes on the middle rack of the top oven. It’s already set.”
I dug my hands into the dough and pulled it out of the bowl.
Griffin dried his freshly washed hands and rolled up his sleeves.
I tried to ignore the expanse of tanned, tattooed muscle as I put the dough on a section of the granite countertop I’d prepared with a bit of flour.
A whisper of amusement came from beside me, and I looked up to see Griffin eyeing me with a strange look on his face.
“What?” I asked.
He reached up a hand. “You have flour on your nose. May I?”
His voice was deep, vast, and carried the promise of whispers in the dark under silky sheets—good lord, and now I was picturing those hands doing all the things, and I couldn’t find my voice, so I just nodded.
He turned to face me fully and I knew he didn’t need to, but his other hand tilted my chin up.
He lightly brushed the flour from my nose with a touch that was feather light and so gentle you would have thought I was precious china.
I got lost in the depths of his green eyes that made me think of summertime in the forest.
Nyx dropped something loud and clangy behind us.
I jumped, and Griffin slowly lowered his hands while he glanced over my shoulder at Nyx with a look that was somewhere between a death stare and amusement.
Not knowing what to do next, I returned to the scones, my breathing just a little more ragged than it was before.
I tried to distract myself, but I could still feel his touch.
I feared the heat of him was imprinted on me now.
I tore off pieces of the dough and patted them into biscuit shapes.
Griffin grabbed some and copied me. The tension thickened between us.
I was hyper-aware of every move of his body and we stood so close to one another, his arm would occasionally brush mine.
I started doing it on purpose. Nyx popped his head over my shoulder and startled me so badly I jerked into Griffin.
“Hmm,” Nyx said, ignoring my reaction. “Not the way I would have done it, but it works. It’s rustic. I like it.”
Griffin and I both looked at him. “How should we have done it?” I asked.
“Made the whole bit into a circle and cut it into triangles, like a pizza,” Nyx said dryly.
I sighed. “You could have told us.”
Nyx chuckled. “Oh, it’s way more fun for me to see how people decide to do something than for me to micromanage them. You guys did great.”
I slid the cookie sheet into the oven and joined Griffin at the sink to wash the dough off.
I looked up to see we had an audience. Kyllion stood in the doorway of the kitchen.
It looked like he’d been about to come in, but saw Griffin was there and now didn’t want to take another step.
He stared at Griffin with an icy look on his face.
I’d seen Griffin try to talk to him the last few days, and each time Kyllion would brush him off and walk away.
Griffin put his hand on the small of my back. “I’m going to go speak to him. I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t have time to tell him we were done in the kitchen; he didn’t need to come back and find me, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that. I wanted him to come find me later, so all I did was nod.