Page 93 of Commanding Flame and Shield
I snatched her chin, turning her to survey the split across her cheekbone. “Fuck. That’s gonna scar, you know.”
Hazel greens flashed with satisfaction. I turned my focus to the highway, fighting my own amusement.
Not bothering to hide her grin, she whispered, “I left him something to remember me by too.”…
…Freya, as she is now, her auburn hair cropped short, just below her jaw line in a straight sheet. Cocky grin across her face as she leaned onto the table in front of the college age boy she was serving. The boy laughed at whatever she’d said, and I shook my head. A broad smile stretched across my face. Somehow sensing me, her eyes flitted away from her table and landed on mine. Only the briefest flash of surprise, and then she had abandoned her order book on the table and sprinted for me.
“You’re home!” She cried as she hurled herself around my neck, and I wrapped my arms around her tiny frame, holding her as tight as I could…
Her singing in the car, belting that disproportionate alto voice of hers to a song on the radio …
She sprinted out of the jeep into the lake house and her last words rang in my ears. “I have a surprise! I knew you wouldn’t mind!” I followed in her footsteps, brows raised with skeptical caution. Freya was standing in the now professionally decorated living room, her arms raised in victory.
“Ta-da!!!” She beamed. “This place has been your getaway for so long. It was time you made it feel like a refuge instead of a cave.” Freya danced over and wrapped her hands around my middle, laying her face against my chest as I took in all the beautiful decor. She was amazing. “You’re welcome!” She sang as she pulled her face away from my chest...
“There are too many to pick, if I’m honest.” I smiled despite the burning in my eyes. My Freya.
“She’s wonderful, August. Just like you said. A spitfire and a blessing. Your Freya.”
“My Freya,” I echoed. “She was so much younger than me, she felt like My Freya. My responsibility. James was too caught up in his own life—his popularity—to give her much time. So, a lot of time was spent just us. She was there for everything. My first heartbreak. My first drive in my first car. Her little voice gave me advice much too old for her.” I shook my head, as if I could clear the memories.
Although I couldn’t see her, I could feel her smile in the air. There was a long moment of silence, before I asked, “You don’t remember your family?”
“Not much. It was just…so long ago. Aren has been my family so much longer than they were. They were all taken from me. Michael was the best thing that happened to me before Aren in this life. And he was taken too.” She sighed. “I don’t share for pity. But I do want you to relish in them while you can. Soak them up, August. Mortal lives are so short.”
I nodded, stomach twisting with the mere thought of outliving my family. Of outliving Freya.
“I hope I get to meet her,” Alvara’s words were tentative, as though she didn’t know if I’d want her to.
“I would love that. Sometime soon, perhaps?”
“I would love that.”
* * *
A knock at the front door startled me awake. Before the sleep had cleared from my eyes, I had leapt from the bed and was down the stairs. Marcus arrived, eyes a bit sharper than mine felt. He opened the door, revealing the delivery girl waiting in the hallway. She held a tall stack of garment bags. The woman stepped back in surprise. She was young, maybe twenty. Slight, but soft, her frame curvy. Pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way. She flushed as her eyes darted between Marcus and me. Both of us wearing only sweatpants. I flashed a grin, as did Marcus.
“Good morning,” she said, voice all breathy. “I have a delivery for August Porter.”
“That’s me, thank you very much.” I stepped forward, arms out. She set the stack of bags in my hands, relieved to be rid of the weight of them. I signed her form and turned back to the living room. Marcus hovered behind me, peering over my shoulder as I unzipped bag after bag until the white fabric gave way to glittering gold.
“Excellent,” I muttered. The gown emerged, and I tossed the bag aside. It was exactly as it had appeared in Alvara’s vision. For a moment, I wondered if I would have selected it if I hadn’t already seen it in her vision. Perhaps. It was stunning. Form fitting and shimmery, the thin fabric would caress every slight curve of her body. I’d had the designer build sheaths into the bodice for her blades, and there were two thick garter belts built to hold the others. I scooped it into my arms and leapt up the concrete stairs two at a time.
As silently as possible, I slipped into our room, and hung the gown on the coat rack in front of the bed, so she would see it when she woke. Alvara slept soundly, her breathing deep and even. She felt safe here. Safe enough to really rest, surrounded in her cadre, and the Westerlund brothers.
When I came back down, Marcus flashed an impish grin, knowing thick in his eyes.
“Subtle, mate.” He smirked as his brothers came into the room. Damien, bleary-eyed, made straight for the coffeemaker. “We’re all about to train. You want to join?”
“Absolutely. Let me grab Alec. He’ll chew me out if I don’t wake him first.”
“Fair enough.” Marcus chuckled, jerking his head at his brothers. “They’re the same way.”
Alec was harder to rouse than usual, and when he finally peeled his eyes open, he glared at me.
“It’s early,” he grumbled. Fae opened one eye, shot me a glare as grumpy as her mate’s, covered her face with the comforter, and rolled back over in a tight cocoon.
“Sun’s up! Time to train.”
