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After all these years being by his side, all the arguments and broken dishes, all the snide comments he’d make and every emotional blow I’d take without a peep, was all for nothing.

He’d told his truth. Even without Harlan’s compulsion. He couldn’t care less for me and I get the gut feeling he never did. Not even from the moment we met, where I saw him as my shining prince supporting me through losing my family. I doubt he saw me as nothing more than a verbal punching bag. A thing that would never fight back out of the fear of being alone.

Besides Richard, I had no one. No friends, no siblings, no one. Just him. And he knew that. He used that.

Xander nips at the shell of my ear, jolting me from my thoughts, and his voice drifts across my skin, “Let me take away whatever is bothering you, little mate.” He glides his tongue across the sensitive skin of my neck and I suck in a gasp.

“Am I a bad person for not caring about what happened to Richard?” I whisper, yet Ambrose opens his eyes and watches us closely. Damn vamp hearing.

Running his hands around my waist and sinking his fingers beneath my shirt, Xander lightly trails up my stomach, leaving a wake of heat in his path. “Do you get upset when the trash is taken out?”

I smirk and playfully slap his arm. “No. But still. Does he deserve to go to hell?”

Before Xander can respond, Ambrose beats him to it. “The idiot paid a witch to conjure a Soultracker to hunt and kill everyone in this house or whoever stands in its way. He deserves a lot more than to burn in hell.”

Harlan giggles from his spot in the kitchen, “You got a better idea than Nyx?”

Ambrose smiles, but it's not a kind or gentle feature. Instead, his lips tilt upwards in a way that turns his face wicked. “I could think of a few.”

Xander kisses my jaw and pushes his hips upward, grinding against my lower back. I can feel his length growing thicker by the second, and the heat beneath his skin grows stronger. “Now do you feel bad about him?”

I shake my head, biting my lip. Nyx knows better than me, she’s a Hellcat after all. Tilting my head back, I let Xander take my lips in his. His kiss is gentle. Sweet. As if he has all the time in the world for me. Which I guess he does.

The thought makes my stomach swoop with excitement, and I push my ass back into his thigh, enjoying the way he groans quietly beneath me.

“Get a room,” Ambrose scoffs, “It’s one thing to do it at Church, but in the living room?”

Xander chuckles, and I feel the vibrations of his laugh flow through me. God, this man couldn't get any more centered in my life than right now.

“As great as it is to see Xander in love, Harlan’s healed enough. We should head into town to gather weapons and supplies.” Cassius tidies away the kitchen as Harlan bounces on his tiptoes excitedly.

“I haven’t gone weapons shopping in ages!” He whoops. “I’m getting a sword.” Harlan proceeds to mockingly slash Cassius with his imaginary sword.

I grumble and yawn. “After we kill it, I’m going for a nap.”

Xander slides his hand out from under my shirt, despite my pouting, and sits up, cradling me in his lap. “After all of this, I’m going to make you come so many times you won’t even remember this ever happened.”

Well, goddamn!

“I like the sound of that, Sir,” I purr and clutch his collar, pulling my vampire into a heated kiss.

Around us, the group comes to life. With Ambrose declaring the sun is rising and Harlan shooing Milo down from his spot on the bookshelf, to Cassius grumbling about losing two sets of handcuffs in one night.

It feels so… natural that I'm overwhelmed with the urge to cry. No one blinks an eye in our direction, and everyone has their own special place in the colony. It’s the first time in my life where I feel I truly fit in. I'm no longer some strange writer hiding in the corners of coffee shops, or the gay son who never lived up to the expected standards, or the spineless boyfriend who was pushed around from dawn till dusk.

Xander bites my lower lip and pulls away from the kiss. His cheeks are rosy and his pupils are blown wide as he sucks in my scent. Practically licking it from the air around me.

It all feels perfect. Until it’s not.

Like a clap of thunder, the bubble of perfection pops. The rush of air and a deafening howl pierces the house as a whirlwind of shadows form in the center of the living room. Growing larger and larger, a mass slips from the void and stumbles breathlessly onto the rug.

With tattoos climbing up his arms and dark shaven hair, Cole chokes and gurgles before throwing himself to his feet.

With wild, desperate eyes, he blinks. His gaze catapults around the room as he manically searches for something.

“Where?” He heaves tight breaths. “Where is he?”

“Who are you looking for?” Cassius steps forward, matching the hulking witch.