Page 29 of Craving Carla

He steps aside, but his hand catches mine as I reach for the doorknob. His touch is gentle this time, nothing like the painful grip from earlier.

“My little friend—we need to give him a proper name,” he says, his voice low. “Something worthy of his mate, Moria.”

I look up at him, surprised. “You’d let me name him?”

“He’s yours,” Amari says simply. “He always was. I was just borrowing him.”

Something deep inside me shifts, a tiny crack in the wall I’ve built around my heart. “Kemnebi,” I say after a moment. “It means ‘one who was once lost’ in Egyptian. Since you found him in Granada when the Moors still had influence there...”

Amari’s face breaks into a genuine smile, and for the first time, I see no smugness, no arrogance in his expression—just pure, unfiltered joy.

“Kemnebi,” he repeats, the name rolling off his tongue with perfect pronunciation. “It’s perfect.”

We stand there for a moment, his hand still on mine, the doorknob forgotten. The setting sun highlights the defined planes of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips. For a split second, I wonder what it would be like to kiss him, to feel those lips against mine.

I pull my hand away, shaking the thought from my head. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the assessment,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel.

He nods, taking a step back. “Rest well, Carla. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your children—the ones you lost. No parent should have to endure that.”

The sincerity in his voice takes me by surprise again. Before I can respond, he’s gone, nothing but a whisper of wind in his wake.

I push open my door and step inside, locking it behind me even though it’s pointless. If Amari or any other vampire wanted to get in, a lock wouldn’t stop them.

My cabin welcomes me with familiar shadows and the earthy scent of herbs. I drop onto my couch, suddenly exhausted. My wrist still aches slightly where Amari grabbed me, but the pain is fading.

Just like that, my children start appearing from the shadows—emerging from vents, from under furniture, from the dark corners of the room. They surround me, their many eyes like stars.

“Well,” I tell them, my voice soft, “Moria’s not the only one with news. We found Kemnebi today. Her mate.”

They skitter excitedly, legs tapping against the floor, against each other, against me as they climb onto the couch beside me. One of the larger ones—Tofi—sends me images of celebration, of happiness.

I smile despite myself. “Yes, it’s a good day for our family.”

But Tofi sends me more images—Amari and me, standing close at the cabin door. The question is clear in the pictures she paints in my mind.

“No,” I tell her firmly. “He’s just helping with border security. That’s all.”

She doesn’t look convinced, if a spider can look skeptical. More images flood my mind—Amari defending me to Jax, Amari standing between me and danger at the bridge, Amari’s expression when he looked at me just moments ago.

“Stop it,” I say, but there’s no real heat in my words. “Just because he was nice to me doesn’t mean anything. He’s a womanizer. Kad warned me herself.”

The spiders exchange looks—at least, that’s what it feels like when their many eyes turn toward each other. Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, they all settle down around me.Their warm bodies pressed against mine, offering comfort in the only way they know how.

I stroke the nearest one, feeling the familiar bristly texture beneath my fingertips. “I know you want me to be happy,” I murmur. “I know you want me to have what Moria has found. But it’s not that simple.”

I close my eyes, letting the tears come freely now that I’m alone with my children. They understand my pain in a way no one else can—the centuries of loneliness, of being feared, of watching others find their fated mates while I remain alone.

But as I sit there, surrounded by my children, I remember the way Amari looked at me today—not with disgust or fear when he saw my connection to the spiders, but with genuine admiration. And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel a tiny spark of hope.

Maybe I won’t always be alone after all.

10

Amari

These alcoholic beverages do nothing for me—a mere temporary numbness that wears off within hours. But I need something to help take the edge off this woman—Carla, the beautiful spider queen. She’s been on my mind all day since I left her cabin. I haven’t seen my little friend—Kemnebi—since he reunited with his mate, Moria. She was beautiful, by the way. The thought of leaving him here on Wintermoon where he truly belongs hurts, but what’s also getting to me is Carla. Leaving Wintermoon and never seeing this woman again.

Why the fuck is it bothering me?