Chapter 23
The whir of the drill made me anxious as Umbra secured my bookshelf to the wall.
Those screws meant this was real. Shatter was over at Roxy’s for movies, but she’d be back before long, since it was Sunday evening and we had to be up early for school tomorrow.
Umbra was surprisingly efficient with the power tools I’d borrowed from the workshop, and right now I was holding the bookshelf in place while he worked.
I peered at him and got an eye roll as he felt me prodding through the bond again. I wasn’t sure what had happened between Umbra and Shatter after we’d left yesterday. It had been a rather unnerving hurricane of hormones when we’d come into Umbra’s room. When she told us to leave, it was like she had us all by the throat and she owned the dark bond.
Rather impressive.
It wasn’t long until I’d felt them both through our connection, Umbra somehow sheepishly relieved.
“You, uh… alright?” I asked him as we both stepped back to take a look at it.
We hadn’t spoken much, despite working on the shelves. He’d seen me hauling in the bookshelf through the front door and wordlessly hummed to himself while he helped me bring it in.
Umbra side-eyed me and grunted.
Man of few words today.
He tilted his head, staring at the shelves. Now that they were fixed on the wall, I was less worried. We could fix them a little more, to be safe. One of the shelves had fallen off during the journey from the workshop to the apartment.
I handed Umbra another screw.
Finally, after a few more, Umbra set the drill down, took a step back, and regarded the bookshelf from a distance. Then he nodded to himself, and clapped me on the shoulder. Hesitantly, I reached out to push lightly against the side of the shelf.
No movement.
Not even a shiver of a wobble.
It was sturdy.
My racing pulse slowed, and I gave it one more shove. It didn’t move.
Thank fuck.
If she wanted to move it, we could. It just might take a while. But I’d move it wherever she wanted.
“Thanks for helping,” I muttered. “Now to pray she likes it.” I swallowed. It might be safely fixed to the wall, but that didn’t make it quite as pretty as I had envisioned.
I’d wanted perfect hexagons, not wonky shelf after wonky shelf. I don’t really know how I’d managed it, actually.
Fuck.
I wrung my fingers. She’d be back soon…
Dusk had been right about the varnish. The deep mahogany matched the room, and I had found that tray stashed under her bed. Along with a dark wood jewellery box that was empty, but smelled suspiciously like orange and fir tree, and lastly, three acorns.
Shit.
You know. This was a mistake.
Was there time to take it down?
I stepped forward, only for Umbra to catch me by the collar and drag me back.
“I think…” I stared at it.
The more I looked at my creation, the more I convinced myself…
Lopsided.
And the varnish job was patchy. I don’t even know how.
No. It definitely had to come down. I turned on Umbra, grabbing him by the wrist, but he cuffed me on the cheek with a grin. I growled, tugging my hair from my face.
“You’re overthinking it,” Umbra said, ignoring my growl and shoving me away from the shelf.
“Oh, he speaks.”
“You fucking idiot. She loves you. She’s going to love it.”
“I don’t know if she loves me enough for this?—”
“She loved you when you couldn’t talk and we kept you chained to the wall in a dark room,” he said with a grin. “I don’t think you could fuck a shelf up bad enough to match that.”
“I know she loves me,” I muttered. “It’s more about what she deserves.”
More than me.
They all deserved more than me, but especially Shatter. All I brought to the table was money and connections. No skills. No sense, half the time—I knew that. My father had been quick to let me know. I’d trusted him, and Umbra and Dusk had paid the price.
The more often I reminded myself of that, the less I felt like I deserved our omega. I would never let her go because I was selfish, and she needed all the protection she could get, but I wanted to prove myself.
“Our wife deserves to have what she wants,” Umbra said. “And she wants you.”
I thought back to how she reacted when Dusk had suggested a divorce. It had sent a shock of discomfort through me to think about splitting from her in any capacity, and she hadn’t wanted to split from us either.
Shatter Kingsman.
She had my last name, and that’s how she wanted it to stay…
I met Umbra’s eyes properly. He did seem different. More light… somehow.
“Prod the bond one more time Ransom, I’ll deck you.”
I grinned for half a second before I heard a voice from the hallway.
“Ransom?”
Oh. Shit. Panic rose in my chest, and I choked instead of responding to her.
This was it.
“Dusk said you had a surprise for…” She trailed off as she reached the door, peering in, then caught sight of us, eyes wide.
Umbra clapped me on the shoulder before striding out and leaving me stuck like a deer in headlights.
Fuck. I couldn’t fucking move. Or breathe.
Her dark nightshade scent washed over me, and I stared at the delicate flush to her cheeks. The chaotic waves of her hair that were more shiny now we were doing masks. Then her golden eyes slid from me to the empty shelf on the wall.
And she froze.
Oh dear.
What was I thinking? This was her nest.
The book stacks were perfect. She didn’t need a fucking bookshelf.
Slowly, she stepped in, eyes fixed on it.
“It’s…” I swallowed. “Your wedding gift. From me,” I stumbled over the statement. “A bookshelf. I was thinking you could use it for your textbooks, and maybe some photos of us? I know it’s not, uh, perfect. But I made it…” I trailed off. “For you.”
She reached it, hand trailing the surface. She was seeing how wrong it was.
“I’m not the best at stuff like this, but I made it from scratch. I promise, Little Reaper, but I think I jumped the gun. The next one won’t be as…well…” I winced. “I’ll figure out what went wrong with the varnish. I…” I cursed internally. I never should have done this. Furniture stores existed for a reason.
It was me.
Iwas the reason.
“I just wanted to make you something…”
“It’s…” Her voice was soft, and my stomach dropped as she turned to me.
No.
Oh shit.
Those were tears.
I’d fucked up so bad.