Kissed by Shadows: Chapter 28

After my promised orgasm in the shower, I walk out of Hunt’s bathroom to find a pair of my period pants, some soft leggings, a vest, and one of Rowan’s hoodies that smells so delicious I can’t help snuggling into the soft fabric. Roman grumbles as he kisses me on the cheek and leaves the room, something about Rowan having more game than he has any right to.

Smiling like a loon, I get dressed and follow the smell of bacon, finding Hunt and Rowan in the kitchen. Rowan is just pouring the contents of the kettle into a hot water bottle, and once he’s screwed the cap on, he heads towards me as I settle on a stool at the island.

“Have something to eat, then you can take some painkillers,” he instructs as he places the warm bottle over my stomach. His fingers brush over the hoodie I’m wearing, his hoodie, that irresistible half smile playing on his plush lips.

“Yes, sir,” I tease, a contented sigh escaping me as the heat feels like a cuddle directly to my womb. Row’s nostrils flare, his pupils widening as he stares at me with a singular focus that has my core clenching, and not with a cramp.

“I like you calling me that, Little Lamb,” he confesses softly, leaning down until his lips are right next to my ear. “But I think I’d prefer Master, especially when I tie you up and mark all that pretty skin with my blades.”

All the breath rushes out of me, a fire filling my veins at his words. New. Kink. Unlocked.

“Why the fuck does she need painkillers?” Hunt growls out, placing a plate of pancakes, bacon, and maple syrup in front of me. Fucking yum! His brows are drawn low as he looks me over, and I can’t help the scoff that leaves my lips as I grab my knife and fork.

“Probably because pulling out my coil last night triggered my period, and cramps are a bitch.” The last part leaves my lips on a hiss as a cramp tightens my insides, my fists clenching around the cutlery I reached for when he set the plate down.

His cheeks flush, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Do you need anything? Willow used to eat her weight in chocolate, I could get some for you if you’d like?”

He’s so earnest that my heart melts and tears sting my eyes. Stupid fucking hormones, I’m always more emotional when I’m on my period.

“Dark chocolate with sea salt please,” I ask, and he gives me a nod from the other side of the counter, then pulls out his phone and starts tapping away at the screen.

“Eat,” he commands while still looking at his phone, and I bite my bottom lip to hide the goofy smile that wants to spread them. I know that maybe in this day and age of feminism, I should bulk at being told what to do, but a part of me loves that he notices when I need something and makes sure that I’m taking care of myself.

I make small noises of appreciation as I eat my breakfast, Rowan sitting down next to me, watching me as I inhale the food. I’m almost finished when Roman saunters in, coming to sit on my other side, his hand landing on my thigh. Hunt places a plate of food in front of him, dropping some painkillers in front of me and setting down a glass of what I know is freshly squeezed juice because it’s Hunt and he’s anal about fresh vitamins. I give him a grateful smile.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I say softly, and his lips quirk even as his pupils blow a little. I love having that effect on him, that my words can affect him just the way his often turn me into a puddle of girl goo. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

Hunt’s piercing green eyes hold my stare for a moment, and I let myself get lost in their swirling depths. “Well, if you’re feeling up to it, it’s the first craft club session.”

“I completely forgot!” I exclaim, a smile pulling my lips upwards as I reach for the painkillers and the glass. “And it’s just my period, of course I’m up to it.”

“It’s okay if you want to postpone, you don’t have to push through if you need to rest, petal,” Roman tells me, and when I turn to glance at him, I can see the genuine concern in his eyes. It’s not that he thinks I’m incapable, it’s that he understands periods are shit and sometimes you might just need to curl up in a ball and wallow in self-pity while eating all the junk food you can find. At least, that’s what I’m assuming he’s thinking, I may be projecting a tad.

“Honestly, I’m fine, and once these painkillers kick in, I’ll be right as rain,” I assure him, taking the drugs. “What time do we need to be there? Did all the stuff arrive? We’ll have to set up, and make some snack⁠—”

“It’s all been taken care of, Peaches,” Hunt interrupts, amusement glinting in his eyes. “And it starts at two, so you have a couple of hours before everyone arrives.”

I glance at the clock to find that I’ve just eaten lunch, not breakfast, as it’s half past midday. Hunt opens the oven, and the most delicious smell of freshly baked cookies fills the kitchen.

I lick my lips, watching and practically salivating as he pulls out a tray and moves them to a cooling rack, then places another tray inside the oven.

“I’m going to need some of those,” I blurt out, and his masculine laugh does terrible things to Evangeline.

“I’ll make extra. I’m guessing chunky chocolate chip are your favourite?” He slings the tea towel he was using to protect his hand from the heat over his shoulder, and that has no right to be so sexy, but my hormones missed the memo because I’m definitely all hot and bothered. “If you keep looking at me like that, Peaches, this next batch will get burnt.”

My wide eyes snap to his, his large arms crossed over his chest as he stares at me with a slightly feral look in those green eyes of his.

“Sorry,” I mumble, my cheeks heating as I lower my gaze. I squeak when my stool is spun, firm fingers gripping my chin and lifting my gaze back up. Swirling green fills my vision, and damn Hunt for having such pretty eyes.

“Never apologise for wanting me, wife,” he says, and my heart skips a beat at the fact I am his wife, that we’re married. He says the words so gently, at odds with his firm hold of me. I swallow, my mouth dry when he leans in, his lips hovering just over mine. “I am yours whenever you want, whenever you need, and I will gladly let those fucking cookies burn if it means I get to be inside you again.”

He doesn’t let me answer, just closes the tiny distance between us, and I moan when his lips touch mine. They’re so soft, so contradictory with the hard man they belong to. I sink into his kiss, which starts off slow, almost teasing until I whimper, and then it’s like something inside him snaps. He pushes between my thighs, his tongue forcing its way inside my mouth with a demand that I don’t even bother to try and ignore. Hunt kisses the shit out of me, decimating me with his lips and tongue until I can barely breathe, my hands clawing at his T-shirt, desperate to feel his skin beneath my fingertips.

Just as I draw my fingers down to slip underneath his soft vest, he abruptly pulls away, and a sound of protest falls from my abused and swollen lips, but the fucker just chuckles.

“Why don’t you three head to the centre and I’ll follow with the cookies?” he suggests, but it’s definitely more of an order. His eyes are fixed on mine, his chest heaving, and I can’t help letting my gaze dip down to find his obscenely hard dick tenting his sweatpants. Serves him right.

“Come on, sweet cheeks.” Roman huffs a laugh as I growl when Hunt steps away, his amused stare still locked on mine. “He’ll make good on that promise later, he just likes to edge you sometimes.”

Hunt’s face snaps to Roman, and then he’s crowding into Roman’s space, his fingers gripping Ro’s long hair and pulling his head back.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, naughty boy?” Hunter whispers, and I swear to fuck my knickers disintegrate.

Roman swallows as Hunt ever so slowly leans down, his lips hovering over Ro’s. Hunt pauses, and I watch in rapt fascination as his tongue darts out and licks along the seam of Roman’s lips. A deep moan sounds from my naughty twin, and he tries to close the distance but Hunt refuses to let him, his grip white-knuckled in Ro’s soft locks as he keeps Roman in place, just out of reach.

My entire body flushes with heat as I watch them, watch Roman submit to Hunter, his body relaxing in the other man’s hold. Then, just as quickly as Hunter grabbed Roman, he releases him and steps away, his sweats still tented as he goes back to his baking.

Roman and I shudder at the same time, a dark chuckle coming from Rowan on my other side.

“You two are so fucked,” he comments dryly before taking my hand. “Let’s go set up so it’s all as you want it, Lamb.”

Blinking, I exhale and set the hot water bottle on the island next to my empty plate, letting him help me up and guide me from the room. Roman catches up as we reach the front door, and we put coats on, the boys their scarves I made, before we head out and across the estate to the community centre.

I watch as Iris shows some kid how to start knitting for the third fucking time, the child having messed it up the first two goes. But our Lamb has more patience than I do, which is saying something because I can torture a man for days, waiting for him to break, to spill his secrets all while keeping him on the edge of life. I don’t get to play as often as I’d like, but it’s always somewhat surprising how many think that they can take what’s ours. Sergi Petrov being a case in point.

Something in my chest constricts and heats at the way she smiles at the child, encouraging the young girl when she gets it right, praising her, and I can see the child almost fucking soar with the gentleness that Iris shows. She has no idea what that means to people like us, kids who grew up in a harsh world where very few care.

“She really is something, isn’t she, brother?” Roman asks softly, coming to stand next to me where I’m leaning against the wall. He’s been helping Iris, and I snort at the amount of glitter that covers him.

“She’s perfection,” I murmur, going back to watching her as she looks at some picture a young boy has drawn. His chest puffs out when she smiles, her gentle words telling him how wonderful the frankly terrible image is.

It seems all the kids on the estate have turned up, even the older boys who always skulk around trying to cause mischief. She’s given them the task of helping some of the younger ones, and what’s incredible is that none of them gave her any snark. They just agreed and have been taking part as much as the smaller ones, some of whose parents are here too.

Hunt arrived with his cookies, which lasted all of three seconds, and the sounds that filled the room are innocent joy, something that we’ve not had much of on the estate. They weren’t wrong when they called it The World’s End, because it so often felt like that. Like anyone who came here was one of the forgotten, left to rot where no one cares.

The girl she’s with turns away, and I watch as Iris’s lips purse, the lines around her eyes tightening, telling me that her painkillers have worn off. I push off the wall, grabbing a bottle of water from the side that is laden with more snacks and drinks before heading towards her.

She beams at me as she turns around, and it damn near kickstarts my cold, dead heart.

“You’re in pain,” I tell her, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the tablets. “You can take more now.”

Her entire face softens. “Thank you, Roo.” Our fingers brush as she takes the pills from me, and electricity sizzles up my arm, warmth diffusing across my entire body right into my black soul. I open the water for her, handing that over too so she can swallow them down.

“Drink some more,” I order her when she pulls the bottle from her lips, and she doesn’t even pause, just does exactly what I say. Fuck, it’s entirely inappropriate the way my dick twitches at that, at her compliance. Especially given the circumstances. “Good girl.”

I watch as her cheeks flush, and knowing that it was my words that caused her blush has my inner monster purring in satisfaction.

“Do you think they’re all enjoying themselves?” she asks me after a moment, her eyes looking around us at the room, at the children laughing and smiling, while she sucks her lower lip into her mouth.

“I think this is probably one of the days they’ll remember as a good one for years,” I tell her honestly, her beautiful hazel eyes landing back on me and bringing all the sunshine with them.

“Do you have any good memories from when you were a child?” she inquires hesitantly, her hand finding mine and tangling our fingers together. My jaw clenches, the dark memories trying to surface, regardless of her soothing touch. Then I hear my brother laugh, and it’s enough to allow me to shut them down, to focus on the here and now.

“Some, mostly with Roman,” I answer, my voice raspy, the brush with the darkness of my past too fresh.

“I wish you hadn’t had to suffer,” she whispers, and I watch as her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. Tears that are because of me, of what she may suspect about my past, but I’m not ready to tell her just yet. She doesn’t need my darkness tainting her light.

“It’s only in suffering we can truly appreciate the good,” I tell her, my hand cupping her soft cheek. She nuzzles into it, and I swear to god my heart skips a full beat. She really is something else, like our very own angel, though lord knows we can’t be saved, we’re too far gone.

“If my father hadn’t…” she pauses, swallowing. “If my father hadn’t sold me, I may have never ended up here with you.”

She turns her face up to me, and I can no more resist her invitation than the stars can refuse to shine. The moment my lips land on hers, I know I’m home, that this is all I’ll ever want. She’s my sunshine, my lamb to slaughter and remake how I need. She’s my good in this dark world.

Childish giggles and fake gagging have her pulling back with a small laugh as the children around us let their opinions of our kiss be known. Her cheeks are even more flushed now, and the colour is perfect on her. I can feel a slight warmth in mine, but I could never be truly embarrassed to be kissing my girl.

“Miss Iris?” a small voice asks, and I smirk realising they don’t know she’s Hunt’s wife yet. He’ll be pissed. We both look down to see Jimmy, a boy whose father drinks far too much and often forgets to bring him food.

We make sure he eats, but all our efforts of getting Dan sobered up have failed thus far. I make a mental note to check in on them, potentially step up our persuasion on Dan to clean up his act. Especially seeing how threadbare Jimmy’s clothes are, the holes in his jumper. It’s too cold for him to not be dressed properly.

“Yes? Jimmy, isn’t it?” she asks, and his smile is tentative as he nods.

“I, um, I finished my scarf, but I’m not sure what to do next,” he confesses softly, holding up what looks like a pretty respectable scarf in a mottled rainbow yarn that is so bright it hurts my eyes.

“My goodness, that was so quick!” Iris exclaims as she looks at the item. Then she turns to me, her smile like a breath of spring after a cold and dreary winter. “You know, I’ve never known anyone who picked up knitting quite so quickly. Jimmy is a natural.”

I watch as he practically floats, my dead heart thumping inside my chest at the way she said that just to make him feel good. She turns back to him and starts explaining something about casting off as they walk back over to where Jimmy was sitting. I can’t take my eyes off her, at the sunshine she brings wherever she goes.

And I know, now more than ever, that I can’t live without it, without her. Not now that I know what the brush of heaven feels like.

I heave a contented sigh, waving the last of the children goodbye and shutting the door to the room we’ve been using this afternoon. The sun is just starting to set, setting the room ablaze in shades of orange and pink, courtesy of the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.

Turning around and preparing to clean up, I find the room already back to how it was when we first walked in. Hunt is loading the last of the cups and plates in the dishwasher in the kitchen area while the twins put the craft stuff away in the cupboard that has been set aside for us.

“You didn’t have to clean up,” I tell them as I reach for the broom to sweep up the mountain of glitter that seems to be spread across the room, but Roman gets there first.

“Yes we do, Princess,” he tells me, beginning to sweep all the glitter into a pile, Rowan heading over with a dustpan and brush. “You have worked hard enough this afternoon, and those kids left with bigger smiles on their faces than I’ve ever seen.”

“They did seem to have fun, didn’t they?” I ask, tiredness suddenly making me sway a little on my feet.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around me from behind, the scent of mint and rosemary telling me it’s Hunter before his deep voice rumbles in my ear. “Sit down before you fall down, Peaches.”

He guides me over to one of the leather sofas that line the room, drawing me down onto his lap as we watch the twins finish up.

“Thank you for your help, the cookies went down a storm,” I mumble, snuggling into him. His arms band around me tightly and moisture stings my eyes because it feels so right, like I’m finally where I’m meant to be. Bloody hormones.

“I saved you some back at the flat, I knew you’d forget to eat anything once you got started,” he chides, brushing his lips across my hair. My eyelids flutter, my body completely relaxed against his. “Come, let’s take you home, wife.”

Home.

The word bounces around in my brain, settling there and taking on new meaning. The flat is our home, but more so, these three hard men, these Shadows, are my home. They love me for who I am and have stepped up in a way that no one else has done for me before. I come to the sudden and irreversible realisation that they are my chosen family, and that my bond with them, even over this short time, is far stronger than the man who helped to give me life. I don’t need him anymore, because I have them and they would never betray me, never trade me like a piece of discarded clothing.

A fissure of sadness winds its way around my heart, telling me that there is another to add to make our home complete. I wonder what Nik is doing right now while we are safe together? Is he hurting? Is his father punishing him again?

The sun dips behind the buildings, casting the room in shadows and darkness, and a shiver works its way up my spine even though it’s warm in here.

Please let him be safe.