Prickly Ever After

Mates weren’t supposed to run out on one another. They were supposed to do whatever it took to work things out, or at least, that’s what I’d always believed. I should have figured it would be different for me. So much of my life was outside of the norm when compared to the other shifters I’d grown up around, but then my mother wasn’t a fated mate.

I found Warren, the newest addition to our art studio, standing in front of my painting, studying it when I finally reentered the room.

“The hues are striking. Very dramatic,” Warren said, smiling at me. “I can already feel the fury of the storm just from how you’ve painted the waves.”

“Thanks,” I replied, trying to smile back.

I doubt I managed anything close to one, since his smile slipped while I started gathering my paints and brushes to get everything cleaned up.

“I thought we went until 8:30?” he said, looking perplexed as he watched me check to ensure I’d grabbed every brush.

“We do, but I’m not feeling very well, so I’m going to cut out early,” I replied. “I like where this one is going and don’t want to screw it up by working on it when I’m not at my best.”

“Don’t blame you. It’s going to be wicked when you’re finished with it.”

“I hope so. The walls in my room are looking pretty bleak right now. I thought about painting them a different color, but my brother has a whole nautical thing going on at his place, and I’d hate to throw it off when I know I’ll be moving on eventually.”

“Ugh, moving is awful,” he groaned. “I positively refuse to do it again. The moment I spotted my house, I knew that was going to be the absolute last place I ever lived in, especially after I got all my stuff situated. I am not built for carrying boxes.”

Eyeing him up and down, I had to agree; he was a bit on the short and dainty side.

Giggling, he put one hand on his hip and cocked it. “Would you like me to turn around so you can get a better look?”

Nodding, I found my lips lifting into a smile, despite the way my head felt. “Go for it.”

I don’t know what made me say that when I’d been hell-bent on getting out of here, but something about him made me want to linger until the end of our session so we could talk more. As he slowly spun around, giving me a 360-degree view of the hip-hugging skinny jeans and t-shirt he had on, I wished things in my life were different. The front of his top said, My flabbers have been gasted, and there was bling on the pockets of those jeans that emphasized the curve of his ass. He’d topped off the outfit with a lavender bandana that matched the rhinestones on his pockets and paint-splattered boots almost the same lovely shade of purple.

It had always been my favorite color, especially the lighter hues, though in recent months, I’d drifted more towards indigo and twilight as I’d fully settled into my brooding phase. Aside from one hasty roll in the sheets following Gregor and August’s handfasting back in June, I hadn’t seen so much of a glimpse of my mate, let alone felt him wrap me in a hug, the scent of chocolate clinging to his skin while he held me. It was October now and missing him was enough to leave me snappy at times, so much so that our cousin Kyler had glanced between me and Gregor and asked when we’d swapped personalities.

“Yup, definitely not built for lugging boxes,” I muttered when Warren finished his spin.

“Thank you. Sucks that you’re not feeling well; I was thinking of stopping for an ice cream sundae on the way home.”

Groaning, I finish gathering my supplies. “That sounds so good, but I doubt it would taste the same coming back up. Can I get a raincheck?”

“I think that can be arranged,” he replied as we walked with me to the sink.