Queen of Death

Chapter 26

Solana

Sunlight pours in through the window casting a muted red glow over my closed eyelids. At first Eli's smokey sweet scent is the most prominent, and if that wasn't indication enough that he's the one wrapped around me, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat would have given it away.

With my eyes still closed, memories of last night replay in vivid technicolor. The images are accompanied by chills, heat, and a deeply satiated feeling low in my belly.

"She's awake," I hear someone say in something not quite a whisper. Anticipation, joy, impatience begin to spiral through me as quickly as I heard the words.

"I'll make breakfast."

"I'll go get her."

"No. Let her come down on her own time. She doesn't need your thirsty ass jumping her as soon as she wakes up."

Anger flares up through me like heartburn, but I don't recognize it as my anger. Come to think of it, I didn't particularly recognize the anticipation and impatience as mine either. I'm amused listening to the guys bicker, and I am considering how long I should let them stew, but I'm not angry. So then why do I feel it so acutely?

I pry my eyes open, scowling at the sun for being so damn bright, and make my way into the bathroom to shower and put myself together before facing the day – and the guys.

I catch my reflection in the mirror in my periphery and nearly snap my neck doing a double take before rushing up to the mirror to inspect my reflection up close. My neck bears two fading bruises encircling fresh Marks on either side of my neck, with a third on my breast next to the tattoo I have of Hunter's name. The claw marks slashing through his name are long gone, but the tattoo on my ribcage just below Hunter's Mark is new. Two dragons, back to back sharing a pair of wings with the phrase "come what may" written beneath it. It's the same one Tate and Dean have, and now I wear a matching one as their brand on me, their Mark. I notice the branding on the inside of my left wrist last. The word "Death", with an ace of spades in place of the "a".

"Her heart is beating like a hummingbird. I'm going up there."

"Tate," I hear Ace's command as much as I feel it. Like a ripple through a lake that ends up lapping at the shore.

"It's been over two days," Tate exhales his frustration.

I wonder idly what he means by that — it's been over two days. But I am too jittery and eager to get downstairs to focus on it too much.

Ace's quiet amusement and understanding bloom in my chest. I hold on to that warmth as I shower and ready myself, dressing in a tank top and a pair of Ace's sweatpants with the drawstring pulled into a tight bow so they don't fall off my hips.

I'm jogging down the stairs when four of my guys, minus the sleeping Eli, come into view all situated in various places in the kitchen.

Dean at the stove, Tate atop the counter, Hunter sitting at the island making knives appear and disappear in his hands, and Ace propping a hip against the island next to Hunter.

"You guys are loud as hell, I could hear you in the shower." I tease them and take a seat at the breakfast bar next to Hunter.

My lungs suddenly feel empty, squeezed of air and the pressure is only continuing to increase.

"Breathe." Ace commands absently to the room at large. And it does. The room breathes. Hunter, Tate, and Dean drink up fresh oxygen like fish that had been out of water.

Ace saunters over to me, stepping into the space between my knees and caging me against the bar between his arms. His face is only a few short inches from mine and he regards me warmly with his morning meadow green eyes.