Page 2 of Tarnished Embers
“W–what?” My pulse rushes past my ears at her words, and I can’t help but blink rapidly as if that will help to make sense of her words. My hands hang loosely in Odette’s, shock rendering me immobile, unable to react aside from blinking like an idiot.Daughter?
“Honey,” Dad starts as he walks over to us, deep laugh lines at the corners of his eyes when he once again wraps his arms around Odette’s waist. He’s completely oblivious to my shock, only having eyes for the woman before me. Though why I’m surprised he doesn’t notice my obvious discomfort when he’s never around is just another way I torture myself, stuck in the way that things used to be before Mum passed away. “I have some exciting news. Odette and I—”
“We got married!” Odette interrupts loudly, letting go of one of my hands to flash her left hand at me. There on her ring finger sit two rings, both white gold and one with a fucking massive diamond in the middle.
My stomach plummets, my skin going ice-cold as I look at the bands, then slowly back up into their faces. Both have huge grins, and I just stand there, barely able to breathe, let alone say anything. There’s a tightness in my chest that feels like betrayal.How could he have not only dated her in secret but married her all without saying a single fucking thing to me?
The past five years since Mum passed away have been tough. It wasn’t obvious at first that Dad was withdrawing, spending more time at work, going on extended business trips, and missing things that were important to me until I rarely saw him at home. It’s like he’s become a stranger, and in a way, why should I be surprised that I knew nothing of Odette when he didn’t tell me anything about his life?
“Aren’t you going to wish your father and I congratulations?” Odette questions, her smile looking a little forced the longer I remain silent. Her grip on my hand becomes almost painful, and I have to swallow the wince that wants to escape as she practically crushes my fingers in hers. I want to pull away, my body screaming at me to take my hand back, but I’m at war with myself, not wanting to cause a scene or do anything to upset my dad. It’s like because he’s here, I’m terrified that he’ll leave again if I make the wrong move.
I lick my dry lips, swallowing nothing as I try to form the word.Don’t rock the boat, Ember. I’m sure he has a reason for not telling you…It’s wishful thinking on my part though that he’ll let me know what that reason is. “C–congratulations.”
I hate that I don’t call him out for not telling me, for keeping such a huge secret, and showing me that yet again, I don’t factor into his life anymore. I should have learnt that lesson the first time he missed one of my school art exhibitions because of some work thing, but like a fool, I can’t help but keep holding out that he’ll change back to the dad I knew before Mum died. I have to widen my lids, moisture threatening to gather in my eyes and spill down my cheeks at the fucking shock of it all.
He’s married?
“Hey, Little Spark,” my dad says soothingly, reaching around and placing a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. His touch is like a balm, and some of the tension slips from me even though I know I should hold onto my anger at being left out and should express it in some way, but I just can’t, the cross words unable to leave my mouth as I look into the eyes of the only family I have left. He held me like this the day we stood by my mother’s grave, but this couldn’t be further from that reality. “I know it feels like a big surprise, and I’m sorry I didn’t talk about it with you sooner, but I’m happy.” His lips tilt up into a smile, the kind I’ve not seen in a long time. “Odette makes me happier than I’ve felt since…”
Since Mum died. I know that’s what he means, and suddenly, I feel like the worst bitch alive. I take a deep, shaking breath before plastering a smile on my face that only wavers a little and blinking back the tears. I’m mostly successful.
“If you’re happy, then so am I.” I tell them both, noticing the way Odette’s smile drops slightly as she looks at me, a frown threatening her botoxed brow. “Welcome to the family, Odette.” I glance at my Dad, hoping he doesn’t notice my robotic tone or the way my smile is so brittle it’s liable to snap off.
Her face instantly smooths as my dad gazes down at her, and I wonder briefly why she hid her annoyance from him.
“That means so much, Ember, and I really can’t wait to spend more time with you, just us girls together. Lord knows I need it after being surrounded by the boys these past few years.” She giggles, the sound making me inwardly wince as it’s like nails on a chalkboard, high-pitched and just fake as fuck.Rein in your inner bitch, Ember.
“Boys?” I ask, my forehead wrinkling as I hear the front door opening followed by the sounds of several people talking, and by the low timbre of their voices, it’s several guys.
“Ember, these are your new stepbrothers,” my father introduces, a gleam of yearning in his tone. He has always wanted a son, yet I ended up being his only child. Sweat makes my palms slick, I catch the flicker of Odette’s lip curling just as my stomach flips.How can I share him after all this time? After all these years of it just being us? He barely has any time for me, and now I have to not only share him with another woman but who knows how many boys too?My breathing rasps as panic looms at the edges of my vision.
I turn, letting go of Odette’s hand, and once again am rooted to the spot as four boys step through the door, chasing my panic away and replacing it with a bolt of lust that is really bloody inappropriate given who these guys are to me. Though, perhaps boys is the wrong descriptor. Men, or maybe even gods would be more accurate because Jesus fucking Christ they are unlike any boys I’ve ever seen before.
Four pairs of eyes lock onto me, four gazes that somehow make me feel like a deer caught in headlights even though not a word is spoken.
“Hello, little sister, nice to meet you.” My chest tightens and my breathing becomes shallow as a guy with walnut-coloured hair and a closely cropped beard steps forward from the group. His hair is longer on the top and has that artful bedhead look I guess took him some fucking time to master. Or maybe he’s just blessed with messy hair.
His voice is deep, American, and has a low drawl that sets my nerves tingling and my core pulsing. Not to mention the dark ink that peeks from his collar and over the thick column of his throat. He has a small tattoo under one eye, and a hoop through his left nostril that adds to his bad boy persona. I can’t move, frozen by his mere proximity as he steps up to me, so close that my breasts brush his chest, my nipples stiffening at the light contact, and I have to crane my neck in order to look him in the eyes. Irises the colour of bright copper pennies stare back at me, and they’re such an unusual colour that I’m captivated, unable to look away from the intensity of his stare.
He reminds me of when the clocks go back and suddenly it’s darker than it was the day before, leaving you fearful and out of sync, wondering where the time has gone. A shiver cascades across my skin and his lips lift in a devastating smirk.
I take a stuttering inhale through my nose and am flooded with the tart scent of crisp apples mixed with the sweet smell of caramel. My eyelids close reflexively as he leans in, a large hand landing on my waist and heating the skin underneath my school shirt before he presses his lips to my cheek in a barely-there kiss, his scruff tickling my skin.
“Fucking delicious,” I think I hear him say in a deep, gravelly whisper, the hand at my waist tightening ever so slightly and letting me know I didn’t imagine his possessive touch. He pulls back but his palm remains there, warming me in a way that I don’t hate. My mind tells me this is weird given he’s my stepbrother, but my body is saying hello to the handsome devil before me. “I’m Caspian.” His American accent is different than Odette’s, and I wonder why they sound different. If I had to guess, it sounds like maybe he’s from New York, but as that’s based solely on films and endless reruns ofFriends, I could be wrong.
I swallow once. Twice. “N–nice to meet you.”
“Hey, quit hogging her, big bro!” another low voice cries out, also with an American accent but different again to Odette and Caspian’s.Why do they sound different? If these are her sons wouldn’t they all have the same accent?
Caspian is shoved aside to be replaced with one of the others whose hair is lighter than his brother’s, a honey brown, and he screams surfer vibes with it falling in soft waves framing a gorgeously handsome face. My lips want to tug up to match the beaming smile of his own but I keep the impulse in check, not wanting to give that part of me away just yet. His eyes are a beautiful clear blue, like a tropical sea shining under a sun-kissed sky, and everything about him calms my frantic pulse. That he puts me at ease with such little effort is a huge red flag though. It’s always the most charming devils that will take your soul. “We’ve always wanted a little sister.”
I let out a squeak as I’m abruptly wrapped up in a tight hug, my feet dangling off the floor when I’m lifted off the ground.Damn, tall bastard. I position my hands on his muscular shoulders as another kiss is placed upon my cheek, which is now tingling due to all the attention, and I’m feeling pretty hot suddenly, sweat beading down my spine as he sets me on my feet again. My hands refuse to move from his muscular shoulders, my grip tightening ever so slightly to feel just how stacked he is. His cheeky smirk tells me he knows exactly what I’m doing and doesn’t hate it. A distinctive floral scent fills my nostrils, and it reminds me of rolling around the wild meadows back on Hampstead Heath in North London as a child.
I look over his shoulder to my dad, to see if he’s noticed the very friendly way my new brothers are greeting me, but he only has eyes for Odette, gazing at her as if she hung the moon. She trails a finger down his chest and my nose wrinkles at the come fuck me eyes she gives him.That’s a bit gross.
“You never were good at sharing,” a third voice teases with the same accent as the guy currently holding me, and then I’m torn from his embrace, my head spinning as I stare at the same man who just had me in his arms. But no, his eyes are a darker blue, like a stormy sea ready to swallow any unfortunate souls sailing on it. His hair is the same honey shade as his brother’s, but it’s shorter and far less tousled. He holds me at arm’s length, his eyes raking over me, burning a path across my body, and I shudder. “Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing.”
My lips part as my cheeks heat and I take a deep inhale, getting a faint whiff of lime, mimosa, and cedar, which does strange things to my insides.