Gypsy Truths (All The Pretty Monsters #6)- Kristy Cunning Page 0,218

to let his fingers rest at my side, just barely touching me.

Arion moves to be behind me, and his cold fingers graze my throat when he moves my hair to the side to expose the marks he left behind when he made me his bride.

They’re scars that won’t heal.

Just like Emit’s claw marks on my back.

Just like Damien’s marks on my wrists.

Just like the marks on all their hands…

“What’s on your mind, sweet monster?” Emit asks, his hand coming up to cup my chin.

All their eyes are on me, and I don’t know if there will ever come a day when that isn’t a little intimidating.

“We’re bound together, for possibly most or all of eternity. I’m still not sure what that means, but I’m looking forward to finding out, instead of worrying about what could go wrong,” I tell them, feeling my stupid, somewhat embarrassing smile spread.

“You, January Violet Carmine, are not worried about something or someone?” Vance asks me in a disbelieving tone.

“No plans to completely uproot a system and change all the rules to suit your softer nature in another society?” Damien asks, being a dick.

He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows, proving he thinks he’s cute and funny.

“No. I’ll stick to the monster society. Any idea when Sanctuary may actually fill up? Is it a good sign that not many new applications have started pouring in?”

“I thought you weren’t worrying,” Arion drawls, grinning next to my ear. “I mean, you’re not an established alpha, so it’s not your concern.”

“I’m not going to be an established alpha, and don’t talk about that here. Someone might overhear,” I remind him very seriously.

They still don’t actually take me seriously.

I’m starting to think first impressions really do last forever, because not much has changed about how they see me. Other than the fact they now think it’s hilarious to dupe me in some form or fashion.

Fair’s fair, I guess.

“Could you look more like a barbarian?” Arion asks Emit, shooting a condescending look at the long stretch of fur that is covering Emit’s middle.

“Could you look more like a vampire?” Emit fires back, giving an equal condescending look at the vampire’s gothic ensemble.

“Remember the part where you swore to be romantic all day?” I butt in, interrupting whatever Arion was about to say back. “Absolutely none of you are doing that,” I add, just so they’re clear.

Damien’s smile spreads wide, and Arion’s mimics his. I hate it when they do creepy stuff in unison.

Vance gives me that very smug, somewhat condescending eyebrow arch he’s perfected over these many long centuries he’s lived.

Emit does his wolfish grin, as he confidently struts toward me, definitely looking every bit as barbaric as they swear he is.

I guess I have a lot of time to see it for myself, now that I’ve signed on for forever.

As Leiza hurries by, Emit plucks Jasper from her arms, cradling our baby to him.

Our baby.

I can’t seem to find anyone else who will raise him, because everyone is scared Arion will kill them if they take away his chance to be a father.

I can’t fault them for that.

I’m not ready to be a mother, but it doesn’t look like that matters much at this point. He’s mine. To be honest, I’d probably kill someone if they tried to take him.

Unless it was his mother.

Possibly his father.

I feel sorry for his father if he ever does come back, because he’s going to have to share him with the four who’ve already claimed him as their own son.

“Ovaries all over the world are exploding,” Anna says on a wistful sigh, while staring at a cooing Jasper tucked against the savage. “And it looks like the fun is finally starting.”

She disappears, not elaborating on what she meant by that.

My monster grooms start circling me very suddenly and subtly, and my eyes narrow as all four of them smirk in my direction. I turn in place, ensuring I keep an eye on each of them.

“What’re you doing?”

“Being romantic,” Arion assures me, as he pockets his hands, and leisurely continues his circling with the others.

“This is predatory,” I counter.

“We’re monsters,” Emit says unapologetically.

“And you’re getting very turned on, so stop pretending you don’t love it every time we are predatory,” Damien inserts, as though he’s calling me out.

“I wouldn’t say every time,” I’m quick to argue.

Vance runs his hand over the back of his neck, keeping a cool and calculated look in his eyes.

Arion’s fangs protrude, and his eyes turn black, while he smiles like the