Sprawled out on the mattress, Ryn was feeling wonderfully sated. Jasper was attempting dinner in the other room. She wasn't sure how well he could cook.
She finally decided to get up to use the restroom and freshen up.
Upon looking in the mirror, she was surprised that there was not a damn thing to be fixed. The bed-head was finally working today, and there was no tiredness in her eyes. Ryn decided to wash her face with cold water anyway, if nothing else than to wake herself up.
She had a feeling that like the night before, dinner would never actually be finished. Ryn reminded herself that she had to drag both of them into the shower later, and try to update her father while leaving out as many details as possible. Her friends thought she was in Texas to deal with family. Though, she was fully contemplating Jasper's offer to fake her school records for the rest of senior year. She was just worried about how that might affect her ability to complete college courses.
From whispers... It sounded like people bet Chrissy dropped out. Not that Christine really needed to attend school. She knew most concepts better than the teachers did.
Ryn went to go hang out with Jasper. He looked ever moody, steeping in thought over the seafood he had cooking. Carefully, she reached over his head for more seasonings. He noticed her staring. "What's up with you?" He asked, ignoring the spices she was adding to the food.
She shook her head. "Nothing. Thinking about school, Christine."
He raised an eyebrow. "Christine? Why?"
Ryn frowned deeply. "Even if I originally didn't know about this world, I would still be so... Enamored with you. I just feel it, constantly." She laughed. "Especially after all this, being intimate with you and... she just fights it? I don't understand. Why would you want to? Like, congrats you have a literal soulmate. Here he is. Bonus: he's sexy as sin, has millions to his name and runs about twenty percent of the Mythics."
Jasper looked at her and proceeded with caution. "I think you of all people would know that love, power, and money sometimes ain't all it's cracked up to be."
She sighed and leaned into him, resting her head on his arm while he placed a hand on her opposite hip. He hummed. "You tired, beautiful?"
Ryn shook her head. "Nah. Though your arms never seem to make cushy enough pillows."
Jasper laughed deeply, his body moving with his voice. "You got tall, dark, and mysterious, darlin, not barrel chested and broad shouldered. I'm still a damn good catch, babygirl. You're lucky."
Ryn laughed delicately. "Virgin." She accused him gently. "It's not like that persona was working for you." Tall and lean... A lot nerdy, funny yet so serious. Dark and mysterious? Maybe. That's not how she'd immediately describe him.
He chuckled. "The reason I didn't kiss or touch people isn't from lack of people wanting to." Jasper found that the longer he was with Ryn, the more visions he got of them together. He loved living inside her head, picking her apart.
Ryn jumped up on the island counter behind him, admiring his pack tattoos. Jasper only had them on his upper arms and shoulders, and Jas said he was fairly thankful for that. - Tristan has the tattoos of a king, which take up his whole back.
Tattoos were how status was determined. Jasper's tattoos established that he was born a part of the Old Gray pack in North Carolina and is part of the king's advisors.
If someone not of rank is found with tattoos that don't apply they would be burned off. For that reason, it's a sensitive topic for changed. They're not allowed any rank, nor any pack.
"Pull it off, Jas. Before it overcooks." She warns him. "Or your shrimp will be rubbery."
He nods and pulls the pan off the heat. "Probably too hot to eat." Jasper finds his favorite place to be, between Ryn's thighs. "Hi, darlin." He murmurs.
Ryn no longer felt so sated. She slowly wrapped her legs around his hips, started working his jeans down. Jasper swore and made it his mission to at least get her naked first.
*
Alex shook Ryland awake. "C'mon, man. There's something I want to show you."
The redhead blinked a few times, and sat up with a groan. He turned on the lamp and strained to read his watch. "Fuck, Alex, it's almost three am." He grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Do you want to get away from my homophobic brother or not?" Alex asks.
Ryland stood up and yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Alright." He said. "I'm up. Where are we going?"
"First of all, I guess I'm asking you to move in with me."
Ryland grabbed his shirt off the arm of the couch and threw it over his head. "Uh, buddy, that's a lot for three am."
Alex had an offer Ryland couldn't refuse. "Your mother can live there with free around-the-clock care and you don't have to finish high school if you do."
Ryland was very awake now. "Jesus, just fuckin' say so. Where do I sign?"
Alex nodded. "Good. C'mon." The blonde had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and started out of the house. Ryland struggled to put his shoes on and catch up with Alex.
They started walking down the dirt path with houses on either side. Nothing expensive or fancy. The largest one was Tris', and that's because he was king and it was given to him out of respect. Not that the man really wanted it. The house was more thrust upon him.
There were four "spokes" or short dirt roads leading out from the hall. Tristan, Luke, and Micah lived on that spoke. Alex started heading for the next one over. Doc Veronica lived there, and the town mayor had a small house on that row as well.
But the mayor was dead.
Because this was a fucking cult, Alex decided to absorb this asset as his own, any will be damned. He bothered Tristan about it, who told him to "just move into the damn place already," so it was settled.
Alex flipped up the mat by the front door, took the key underneath. The lock was a little stubborn, but it cracked open.
"Home." Alex announced. Ryland came in behind, closing the door back. He took a moment to explore the house. Walking in, there was a living room. To the left was the kitchen, and there were two bedrooms in the back.
"This whole house is just ours? You're fuckin' serious?" Ryland questions him.
Alex nodded.
They were now completely alone. They had never been together without at least bodies in the house. What on earth did they have in common? The room was silent as Ryland picked up things to examine. What is Alex?
Alex was watching Ryland pick through a bowl of fake fruit.
Alex? Easy. Drugs and sex.
What am I? Ryland thought to himself, returning back to over where Alex was. Violence...
What it really sounded like was a night that they would never remember.
*
After a week, Tristan's mother left. Much to his surprise, Chrissy was as lovable to Liz as anyone else.
Life started gaining a rhythm. Chrissy started various projects to keep herself busy, as well as filling out college applications to schools on the east coast. Almost a month passed.
Sloane was doing Chris's hair and makeup today for a special occasion. Something light, simple, delicate.
"It was really that bad?" Sloane asks, curling a section of Chrissy's hair.
She nodded. "Yeah, it was awful. I've been fending off his advances for a while. I'm too bullheaded to tell him I'm terrified to do it again."
Sloane sighs. "Hopefully it'll be better this time around. I'm happy you're exploring a relationship with Tristan."
"I'm not exploring at all." She said indignantly. "I was just sitting in the grass outside. I haven't even let him kiss me in almost three weeks. I think it might just drive him mad."
This alarmed the hell out of Sloane. "I'm sorry, you've done nothing else with that fine male specimen after living together for a month?"
Chrissy was over it. "Actually, fuck you for that. Yeah. I can keep my goddamn legs closed."
Apparently, Sloane was too. Just about something entirely different. In a sudden spur of violence, she yelled and threw the curling wand. It grazed Chrissy's shoulder and she whipped around.
"Well, I'm sorry we can't all be as strong-willed as you are, Chris! Something I wish you had maybe taught your goddamn brother before he knocked me up!" Sloane was shaking. The words that flooded out of her mouth seemed to dawn on her, and she covered her mouth and started to sob.
Tears. Oh, Jesus. Ever Cold Chris is not good with tears. Goddamn it, why would she be so sad about this?
There were only a few scenarios that could apply to Sloane and Micah, and she chose the most likely. A young couple, still in prime youth, just mated a little under a year ago.
"Just don't throw any three hundred degree objects and I think you'll be fine." Chrissy murmured. Sloane was too busy crying and flubbering. Christine stood and held Sloane's face in her hands. "I want you to look me in the eyes and know, no matter what, I have absolute faith that you can do this. Does Micah know?"
She shook her head, sniffled and picked back up what she had thrown. "We haven't even had the kids conversation. How many, when, anything like that."
Chrissy reacted how she usually did in tense situations, which was with humor. "Well... You've got about nine months to figure it out and a couple hundred years to fix any mistakes."
Through sniffling and tears, she laughed half-heartedly. "I haven't even lived a couple hundred years myself."
Much to Micah's chagrin, Sloane was a good hundred years older than him.
"You hit me, by the way."
Sloane tried a smile. "Sorry. My bad."
Chrissy shook her head. "If you ever feel the need to throw some shit, just meet me in the woods with a bunch of beer bottles. We'll throw them at trees and watch them shatter together." She paused. "That's a strange thing to invite someone to."
Sloane shrugged. "Micah said you and him used to throw bottles at the side of the house."
"It's cathartic." Chrissy replied. "Just make sure he's sitting down when you tell him. He'll catastrophize everything and either hyperventilate until he passes out or chug a bottle of vodka until the same thing is achieved."
Sloane took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. "Sounds like Micah." She looked Chrissy over one more time. "You look amazing, Chris."
She smiled gently. "Thank you. I feel very... Not me. I'm also mortified and nervous as all hell."
Sloane's expression twisted. "It's not so bad, if a little awkward. At least it's Jas, y'know. Not a stranger, not a friend."
Chrissy groaned. "And why do I have to do this, again?"
Her smile was pained. "So we don't end up in predicaments like your mother and father, where they aren't truly mates. Because when he marks you-"
Chris interrupted her. "I've gotten it in very graphic detail from Tristan already, thank you." She checked the time. "Thanks, Sloane. I have to go hunt down Soileau, wherever the bastard is."
*
Find him, she did. He was arguing quite angrily with Luke on the back porch. She stood by the glass door, listening to them.
"... You can't grant them a house! That's not right!"
Tristan was pissed. "I've told you over and over Magdalena, you have no mate. No mate means no house to yourself. If you can't cope with it, find another pack."
"They're fucking fa-"
Tristan must've decked him. Hard. She heard a nasty thud and the sound of Luke falling on his ass. "Ryland is a god, on our side. Alex is the best ops guy I have. You know what you are, Luke? A cop. They're worth more to me than you are. Now get out of my face and do your goddamn job."
Chrissy listened to Luke's departing footsteps then slipped through the glass door.
"Everything okay?" She queried.
He was resting his arms on the railing, staring into the forest. "How much did you hear?"
She came closer to him, the wood creaking softly under her feet. "I knew Luke would have a problem with this."
He didn't have a proper response to that and was quiet for several moments. "Jasper calls them the Double-As."
Chrissy cocked her head. "Why?"
"Because there's two of them, their names start with A, and they fuck like the energizer bunny."
She couldn't help a snort. "Do they really?"
"Have you seen them at all recently?" He prompted.
"No," she said, "I suppose I haven't."
He turned around to face her, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks and leaning against the railing. "You look... Stunning." He told her.
Chrissy nervously pulled at a seam on her hip. It was a long, scarlett dress, old Hollywood glamour style with a couple delicate gold appliqués, a slit up to her thigh. What Tristan appreciated the most was the way it clung to her hips and flaunted her chest, naturally.
Red or silver was apparently customary, something about the moon and blood. "It's a little much for me." She murmured. "I don't really feel like myself. I don't... Wear dresses."
"You look like you to me, just polished."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "How?"
He grinned that charming smile of his. "You look like a gorgeous badass with a little bit of 'yeah, you can rough me up in bed though.' That's Chrissy personality to me in a nutshell."
She flushed and hit him in the chest. "I do not act like that. I don't even act sexual."
He caught her fist. "I know. I'm just joking."
Chrissy spat out the words before she could stop herself. "I'm scared." She admitted. "I... I don't particularly... I've never been particularly interested in-in... Sex, and then that sucked."
"You've been deflecting me. I realized." He said softly.
Chrissy sat in one of the porch chairs and held her face in her hands. "And now someone has to watch? I..."
Tristan crouched down in front of her. "I know, it's strange. So many men have lied about who their mate was to simply have somebody who didn't want them. I'm sorry to say, Chris, but since it's already gone around the rumor mill that you refused me... Suspicions are high."
Chris was frustrated. "I never signed up for this. Never."
He didn't really know what to say. "If it makes you feel any better, I have to do the same thing in a couple of days for Jasper. A non lykan-lykan mating is... Rare."
"You're going to see Katheryn naked?!" She demanded suddenly. "No way in hell!"
"I'm sorry," he said, "it's been mandated by the Elders. I can't back out, I made a vow of allegiance to them when I became king."
This obviously upset her a lot, she couldn't even look him in the eye. His lips thinned. "Christine, you do realize you're the only thing that arouses me anymore?" He asked quietly.
She glanced at him. "Nothing else?"
He shook his head. "Nope. I can't fantasize about anyone else. Why would I anyway?"
Chrissy groaned at herself. "I can't believe I'm being jealous. And shy."
Tristan chuckled. "I think it's hot."
She scoffed flippantly.
He rose up and placed his hands on either arm of the chair, leaning in close. "Would you like me to prove it, Christine?"
Her breath hitched. "I-I'm fine. Thank you."
Tristan pulled Chrissy by the waist out of the chair, catching her as she stumbled into him. He pinned her flush against one of the columns, his hands running the length of her body while he doled out a passionate, punishing kiss. The swollen lips, hint of blood from a nip too hard kind.
He worked the dress up her hips, exposing her little black panties. They ended up a collection at her feet almost instantly. Her bralessness made it easier to pull the dress below her bust. Chrissy slowly pressed her body into his, winding her hands around his neck. She could avoid his advances... But if he managed to get his lips on hers, he all but had dominion over her body. Putty in his hands, every time.
Chrissy finally managed to come up for air and pull away from him.