Ruler (Wolves of Royal Paynes #2) - Kiki Burrelli Page 0,57

coaster. I still had the pressure of tears behind my eyes, but I didn't remember why. Every second I remained in Faust's arms, the sad, cry-inducing emotions faded, and I forgot why I had ever felt them in the first place.

Chapter Ten

Faust

My boozy mate wasn't in bed where I'd left him during my shower. We were still before the noon hour, and I'd been sure I could get a shower in before he woke. Storri liked to wake up in stages. Opening his eyes to the day was only his second stage.

Something had pushed him to rush through to the end. I yanked my jeans up over my hips, buttoning them with one hand while I grabbed my shirt with the other. Dog wasn't here either, which meant Storri was with him.

I stalked down the hallway, letting my senses guide me like I would on a hunt. Storri's scent was stronger here. This morning he smelled like tomato plants growing in the sun. It wasn't his sweet cherry arousal or his crisp grassy smell of satisfaction. I trudged forward, taking the stairs down three at a time to find him.

"I threw myself at him," Storri's voice wafted up to me from the first floor. I guessed he was in the kitchen, talking with—

"How do you mean?" Jazz asked between quiet gurgles. He must've picked up Angus from Hallie.

"Storri?" I called out so he'd hear me coming. This was a private conversation, and just because I could hear it didn't mean I should listen.

"I threw myself at him! I told him I wanted to have sex!" Storri's wail was loud enough even those without enhanced hearing would've been able to hear it.

My feet stopped suddenly on the carpeted stair, and I grinned. So he remembered that part. I hadn't been sure he would.

"That's all? That's nothing," Jazz laughed. "Drunkenly throwing yourself at a gorgeous man is a rite of passage. You've done it, Storri. You are now a true nephilim."

"Really?"

I could imagine Storri's round, innocent gaze perfectly.

Jazz laughed again. "No, not really. But honestly, I can tell you he didn't mind. He probably liked it. People like it when they feel wanted. As long as you didn't ignore him when he told you no or started crying or accused him of hating you or—"

Storri gasped, and Dog barked.

"What?" Storri screeched. "On the stairs?"

Busted.

"Storri?" I called out again.

This time, my sweet omega was waiting for my voice. "How much do you think he heard?" Storri whispered.

"All of it," Jazz volleyed back. "And this too. Here, I 'll give you something to do so you can naturally avoid him."

I strode through the meeting room, the kitchen door dead ahead.

Inside the kitchen, Dog sat with his back to the wall next to the door. Jazz spun around between the counter, fridge, and cupboard, gathering items needed for what looked like a salty, greasy breakfast. I found Storri sitting at the small table, feeding Angus a bottle.

Whatever teasing thing I'd been about to say dried up in the face of my mate, his caramel eyes still drowsy from sleep, his face a little puffy from the night before—he matched Jazz in that regard—while he fed Angus his bottle. The baby suckled happily, making as much noise as something that size could.

"Oops, the dam broke," Storri giggled, reaching for the burping cloth to dab away some milk that had escaped.

My cock throbbed, twitching in an attempt to break free from his confines.

Storri was fucking gorgeous.

"Are you just going to stand and stare, or are you going to help me provide for your mate?" Jazz asked with a knowing grin. He'd given Angus to Storri for a reason, so I'd feel what I was feeling and be too speechless to tease him.

His little help me provide for your mate comment was just icing on that cake.

"How are you feeling?" I ignored Jazz for the moment.

"Fine. A little headache." Storri turned his head to look at me and winced. "A lot headache." His stomach roared. "And I'm hungry."

I took the spatula from Jazz's hand and directed him to the table.

"You don't know what I was making," Jazz protested without conviction.

Jazz may have indulged more often in his old life, but since coming here, drinking wasn't a big part of our day to day. He was feeling last night as surely as Storri.

I rolled my eyes. "I think I can handle a hangover breakfast."

I grabbed the bacon from the fridge, layering it on a frying pan as Dog trotted