This week's flash is inspired by a picture of French toast. Enjoy it!!
“It’s driving you nuts, isn’t it?” Kraig asked. He was sitting on the couch in my office while I paced from wall to wall. Park had been gone just one day, and I was already antsy for his progress reports. He’s send them to all the alphas, but I instructed him to let me know of any leads he found, not just the ones that panned out.
“Don’t pretend that you don’t feel the need to hunt down those bastards too.”
Kraig eyed his claws and ran his tongue over his sharp fangs. That horrible stench came from him again, the hatred he felt when he thought of the doctors. At first I’d been relieved that Kraig’s natural scent was coming back, after whatever drugs he’d been given had suppressed it. But I hated it when his scent went bitter, and it made me desperate to cover it up with my scent to make it go away. “You’re right.” He looked up. “But I don’t know what to do with these instincts. It’s hard to control them.”
“Those are your animal souls. Never forget, we’re not human, at least, not all human. With a hunter’s nature, it’s against your instincts to let the chase go. Mine too. That’s maybe the hardest lesson I’ve had to learn since my father died.”
Kraig stood up. It’d been just a few weeks, but he’d put on weight and his hair was beginning to grow out. His sharply jutting jaw and the black marks on his cheeks and around his eyes made his stare intense. “You’re the alpha, so you’ll stay behind to protect your streak. To protect me.”
A stab of sorrow hit me. I stopped right in front of him. Cupping his cheek, I stared into his eyes. “I missed you every single day you were gone. I didn’t protect you back then, and I let your dad hurt you again, but I swear, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
Kraig curled his hand over mine. “I know.”
“Park will find out who was working with the doctor, and the people who killed your father. Then we’ll decide how to handle them. I wish I could be out there, hunting down the people who kept us apart for so long, but this is my life.” I made a face. “I’ve become responsible.”
“The curse of growing up. Kraig lifted an eyebrow. “You did have three calls this morning about streak matters, and there’s a mountain paperwork on your desk.”
“Let’s play hooky. I hate paperwork, and my dad always said to maintain a balance. Besides, none of that is important. It seems everyone is behaving themselves right now.” I glanced out the window. It was a nice day, and we’d been cooped up inside my office all morning. “You know, we never had a chance to go on that picnic I promised you.” I let go of his face and pulled him closer to me with my free hand on his low back. “Sunshine, food, privacy….”
Kraig snorted. “There’s not much of that to go around right now.” Lydia was staying with us, which made Park and Kraig more relaxed, and I couldn’t say I minded the delicious meals she made. Besides, she seemed to like the distraction of taking care of us. It was hard to be quiet, though, when all I wanted to do was lose myself with my mate. Bonded werekin hearing was just too acute.
“What do you want to eat?”
“Speak of the devil,” I whispered.
“I heard that.” Okay, so Lydia didn’t just have bonded werekin hearing… she had those mom ears that heard everything. “Sandwiches?”
A wicked idea came to me. “How about some French toast?”
“Really?” Lydia sounded skeptical.
“All right.” She kept muttering as she headed into the kitchen.
Kraig looked at me strangely. I slipped my hand under his shirt to stroke the smooth muscles of his back. “It’s your favorite. Think about it. Crispy toast. Warm butter. Syrup.” Kraig’s eyes flared and then went to half-mast. Oh yeah, he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Wonder if that spot we found by the lake is still a secret?” he said.
“Of course it isn’t,” Lydia called out. “You think you guys were the first to roam the streak’s property?”
I made a face.
“Shouldn’t be anyone out there now though.”
“Good. Thanks, Mom,” Kraig called. He pulled me really close, putting his lips right next to my ear. “I hope she doesn’t bother with plates or silverware. I don’t think we’re going to need them.”The End
*Don't worry, the story continues, but I need to shift POV. Can you guess who?
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