Page 34 of Burn of Obsidian
“She’s my first,” Dorothea continued, her expression serious. “We were young, not ready for kids, but then Ayden brought this beautiful baby girl home, and we knew it was meant to be. She was just as colourful back then, and the best big sister when Molly and Rosey came along. Those girls are our world, but my Thea’s a far gentler soul.”
Jax waited.
“Just like her father. She only sees the good in people, and can’t hold a grudge to save her life. People seem to take advantage, so if you hurt her…” She let the threat trail off, the knife swaying slightly.
Jax lifted both hands up, showing his palms. “Consider me warned.”
Dorothea pursed her lips, stepping closer until she was forced to look up. Reaching up with her left hand, she patted his cheek like he was a child. He had to dip his head slightly for her to reach. “She’s never brought a boy home before.”
“The first, and last.”
“Well,” she laughed. “That’s up to my Thea.”
“What’s up to me?” Thea appeared in the archway from the hall, eyes widening slightly when she found her mother touching his cheek and a knife gripped in her hand. “Dad’s asking for his medication, but I don’t know the dosage.”
Dorothea smiled, the emotion genuine as she stepped back. Pulling off her pink gloves, she threw them at her eldest daughter while handing the soapy knife to Jax. “Be good, you two. You’re not too old for me to ground,” she said with a wink before leaving the same way Thea had come from.
“So, what was that about?” Thea pulled her hair up into a messy bun, a few strands hanging down to tickle her neck. She grabbed what remained of her glass of wine and downed the rest.
“Aren’t Fae sensitive to alcohol?” He moved to stand beside her with his tea towel.
She tipped the glass dramatically, her cheeks puffing out before she swallowed. “I don’t know, let’s test that theory,” she said with an impish grin before turning to the sink.
They worked in silence, her movements slightly exaggerated when she handed him plate after plate. She giggled every now and then, and when he raised a silent brow, she only giggled harder.
She was definitely sensitive to the alcohol. She hadn’t even had more than a few glasses.
“I never expected you to be so domesticated,” she said between chuckles. The light glinted off the gold septum ring, matching the three she’d placed in her lobes. Warmth spread like fire, his chest aching with her proximity. He wanted to nuzzle his nose against her skin and take a deep breath, his beast almost taking over so they could drown in her scent.
“You’re drunk.”
“Am not!” Her eyes widened, and he took his time to study the colour. A warm brown with flecks of copper. “You’re smiling.”
His lips twitched. “Am not.”
“You are,” she grinned. “Or at least you did. I’ve seen it.” She looked like the cat that got the cream.
She wasn’t exactly drunk, but definitely tipsy.
She’d never looked cuter.
“No one will believe you,” he said, wanting to see her smile again. She was so responsive, her pupils dilating as his voice deepened, and her lips parting with a soft exhale. He wanted to reach out, to see whether she tasted sweet. But not yet. Not until she trusted him, and definitely not when she’d had a couple of drinks.
Their eyes fixed, a blaze building in his core.
“We should get going,” she whispered, as if not wanting to break the connection. “My dad needs his rest.”
Jax wanted to ask more, but knew he didn’t have that privilege.
“He’s why I took that job,” she continued anyway, her throat moving with a nervous swallow. “His treatment isn’t available on national health, so I needed to find something with a big reward.”
“He’s strong.” Which wasn’t a lie, but he couldn’t deny the underlying disease. Humans were weak and died far easier than any of the Breed. Her father reeked of sickness, the underlying scent like fur along his tongue – terminal.
“You have no idea.” Her smile was sad. “Why did you come here, Jax?”
He closed their distance, glancing at the pictures lined the windowsill, a timeline of her family over the years. He’d spotted more in the dining room, as well as in the hallway. Jax never knew what it was like growing up in a family who loved one another. Not until he was older.
“You didn’t call.”