Page 35 of Demon On Deck

“Son of a bitch!”

I jump back, peeling the scalding fabric away from my skin while doing an awkward dance around the spreading puddle and broken ceramic. That makes two cups of coffee I’ve spilled this morning. A personal record.

Fantastic.

I storm down the hallway toward my bedroom, agitation simmering hot beneath my skin.

“Get it together, Evren,” I mutter as I yank off my ruined shirt and toss it toward the hamper. I grab a dark gray polo, pull on fresh jeans, and give myself a once-over before stopping at the bathroom. A quick spray of the cologne Kallie always nuzzles into, and I’m back in the kitchen.

I start to reach for another cup of coffee… then stop.

Better not tempt fate. The third time might actually take me out.

A glance at the clock tells me I’ve got time, so I grab my keys and head out. Down the elevator, into the garage, and behind the wheel.

Today I’m meeting Kallie’s sister, Mellodie.

When Kallie first mentioned lunch with Mel, I was excited—hopeful even. Meeting her family is a real step, especially for someone like Kallie, who doesn’t let just anyone into her inner circle.

It felt like confirmation, proof that we’re real. That we’re serious.

But after the last few days… I’m not so sure anymore.

When she came over for dinner last week, I asked her to stay the night. She did. But she hesitated first. Only for a second, just long enough that most people wouldn’t notice.

But with a demon’s instinct and a heart that beats only for her?

I noticed.

And since then, she’s seemed…distant.

“Too fast, too soon,” I mumble, drumming my fingers anxiously against the steering wheel. “You knew her history. You knew what her bastard of an ex put her through for two damn years, because she told you. But you pushed, you rushed her anyway. She doesn’t have the same instincts you do. She doesn’t know-”

The thought hits me like a sucker punch in the ribs.

Mine.

I felt it before, on the cruise. It was there in every kiss, every touch, every moment with her. But now? Now that primal, ancient part of me locks onto the truth with crystal clarity.

This feeling isn’t just possession. Kallie isn’t just mine.

She’s my mate.

A blaring series of car horns jolts me back into my body. Shaken to my core, I wave a distracted apology in the rearview mirror and force myself to focus on the drive to the restaurant.

She’s my mate. She’s my mate, and I love her. Gods, I love her.

By the time I pull into a parking spot, my nerves are more shot than they were when I spilled the second cup of coffee this morning. Kallie’s car is parked a few spots down, and the sight makes my pulse race faster.

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths before an incredulous laugh escapes me.

Who would’ve thought?

A seven-foot, horned demon built like a small tank is having an anxiety attack about meeting his girlfriend, who he is madly in love with, and, oh, by the way, literally just realized is his fated mate, and her sister for lunch.

Wiping my hands on my jeans, I finally exit the car and head into the restaurant. My eyes find Kallie on instinct, sitting at a corner table with a woman who could be her twin, with the exception of the hair.

Kallie is vibrant copper, sunshine, and fire. The woman beside her is auburn waves and clear confidence.