Page 34 of Claim Me

That’s something I’ve noticed she feels strongly about—moving forward and not backward.

Alas, it’s not always healthy to run from the past, which is why her subconscious stirs when she’s asleep. I’ve explained this to her, but I won’t push her to talk about it.

Fallon will open up when she’s ready to face her history. And when that happens, I’ll be here to listen and to help her heal.

“I miss the California sun,” I murmur, answering her question about my nostalgia. “This constant state of night is destroying my tan.”

She snorts out a laugh. “A ghost who cares about his tan. Now I’ve heard it all.”

I scoop the eggs onto a plate and bring them to the table. “I’m a phantom. And I don’t enjoy beingghostly.”

“Except when spying on people,” she corrects me.

“I don’t spy on anyone, little flame,” I tell her. “You’re confusing me with Nox.”

Her lips twitch. “You’re both voyeurs.”

“Only when the situation calls for it, lass. But I’m usually more of an exhibitionist.” I wink at her and return to the coffee maker to make her a proper breakfast beverage.

Although Fallon’s accent is soft and subtle, she’s Irish. Which makes whiskey an appropriate addition to her morning brew.

Her eyes light up when I hand her the mug. “Thank you, exhibitionist Bane.” Her expression sparkles with humor. “And for what it’s worth, I think your tan is just fine.”

I grin at her. “Thank you, little flame. It pleases my ghostly soul to hear you say that.”

She giggles, our morning banter doing its daily job of making her smile.

I’m not quite sure when this easy camaraderie began between us, but it was early on. Maybe when I gave her my knives to use on Klas. Regardless, we’ve always clicked.

Alas, it’s never been enough to convince her to truly open up to me. Given her circumstances, I understand. And I’m willing to be patient.

Besides, Fallon deserves to have someone in her court, especially when she’s facing Kaspian in verbal sparring matches every other day.

I take the chair opposite her and wait as she fills her plate with food. Once she’s done, I start with the pancakes and reach for the bacon just as Nox makes an unwelcome appearance through the wall.

“Speaking of voyeurs,” I say, able to see him in his phantom form when Fallon can’t.

He materializes beside me, his expression beaming. “I thought I smelled bacon in the hallway.” He grabs the piece I just put on my plate and takes a bite. “Yesss, so fucking good.”

“He’s not wrong,” Fallon replies, humor dancing in her pretty green eyes.

If she’s worried about this afternoon’s execution, she’s not showing it. She seems as laid-back as ever, taking every moment in stride.

Because she’s strong and amazing,I tell myself.Which is why she’s going to survive today.

Nox grabs a plate and takes over the chair at the head of the table, leaving only one seat open at the other end. Then he steals what’s left of the pancakes.

I quickly snag the portion of bacon I want and toss a few extra pieces onto Fallon’s plate before Nox can claim them all for himself.

He doesn’t notice.

But Fallon does because she gifts me with one of her thankful smiles. I return her grin as I take one of the eggs for myself.

We all eat in comfortable silence, our morning routine falling into place. Sometimes it’s just me and Fallon. Sometimes it’s Nox and Fallon. And sometimes it’s all three of us.

Regardless of the occurrence, it’s become a bit of a ritual for us to spend our mornings together in some way. Usually eating or enjoying our coffees in blissful silence.

At least on the days when Fallon doesn’t wake from a nightmare, anyway. If she had one last night, it’s not evident in her demeanor today.