Page 59

Amari

I watch Carla from the border as she sits with Tofi and a few of her other children at the edge of the forest. Her eyes haven’t left me all day, following my movements as I set up and test the drones.

She’s wrapped in a blanket that keeps slipping from her lap in the autumn chill, and Tofi reaches out with one of her legs to pull it back into place every time it falls.

“Are you sure they’ll be able to sense the difference between supernaturals and humans?” Carla calls out, leaning forward with interest. Her wild curls are tamed in a loose braid today, though a few stray strands dance around her face in the breeze.

“That’s what I’m testing now,” I answer, adjusting the small device in my hand. “The sensors are calibrated to detect specific bio-signatures. Humans give off different energy patterns than vampires or shifters.”

I turn my attention back to the drone hovering above the water. It’s one of my smaller models—matte black, roughly the size of my palm, with four whisper-quiet rotors and a sleek body housing the advanced tech inside. Three more float nearby, maintaining perfect formation despite the wind.

The rhythmic tapping of keys accompanies my movements as I input commands on my laptop.

Numbers and data scroll across my screen, the algorithm processing information from the test subjects I sent across earlier.

Damon volunteered a few trusted humans and supernaturals to walk specific patterns along the border, giving me baseline readings to work with.

“The preliminary data looks promising,” I tell her, not looking up from my screen. “The drones are registering the differences accurately. Once I fine-tune the detection parameters, they’ll be able to identify potential threats based on behavior patterns and biological markers.”

I glance up to see Tofi adjusting Carla’s blanket again. The temperature’s dropping as evening approaches, and Carla’s been out here all day, refusing to leave until I finish. Her stubbornness makes me smile. It’s endearing how invested she’s become in this project.

“One more test,” I call out, kneeling down to my laptop. “Then we should get you inside where it’s warm.”

I press a series of keys that transform my display into a wide projection screen, projecting a holographic interface into the air above my workstation. The code streams across it in glowing blue lines—complex algorithms and security protocols that I’ve spent decades developing.

Looking back at my girls, I smile at their wide-eyed expressions.

Carla’s mouth hangs slightly open, and Tofi’s multiple eyes reflect the projection’s blue glow.

I blow them an air kiss, chuckling when Tofi starts stomping her feet excitedly, sending me images of the word “Daddy” in my mind.

She wants to join me—I can feel her eagerness vibrating through our connection.

I motion with my fingers for her to come over, and she practically leaps across the small hill separating us. Carla’s face lights up at Tofi’s enthusiasm, and the sight tugs at something deep inside me. The relationship developing between us—between all of us—means everything to me.

Last night was even more beautiful than our first night together.

We didn’t have sex; we just held each other.

The way she kept her hand on my beating heart, using it as an anchor to help her fall asleep, was everything to me.

She felt safe in my arms. Genuinely safe.

There’s so much I want to show her, so much I want to give her, but King Amir’s words still linger in my mind.

“Sometimes, a gilded cage can be someone’s Garden of Eden.”

This is Carla’s Eden. I cannot take this from her, nor from her children.

I start typing on the projected screen, inputting lines of code that look foreign to both Tofi and Carla. Tofi taps one of her legs against the ground curiously, multiple eyes fixed on my movements. Finally, Carla stands and approaches the screen, marveling at the technology.

“Wow, you really are a smart asshole,” she says, squinting at the code.

I laugh, pointing at a specific section of the program.

“This segment here communicates with the drones’ central processing units.

It tells them what to look for, how to interpret the data they collect.

” I trace my finger along a particularly complex algorithm.

“This part determines the difference between a radical human and a normal one.”

“How long did it take you to learn all this?” she asks, her fingers hovering near the projection, afraid to touch it.

“Centuries of different practices, working to perfect my craft,” I answer honestly. “And there’s still more to learn. Always more to learn.”

“I know how to build a fort and start my own fires,” she says with a small shrug.

I look down at her, my expression serious.

“What I know versus what you know doesn’t compare to the other.

” I point to the projected screen. “I’ve had a life of privilege while you struggled in the shadows.

You’ve lived in survival mode for centuries.

I’ve enjoyed the pleasures of immortality.

It is not the same, and I will not allow you to put yourself down. ”

She shrugs, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “I guess I’m just envious. You’ve found your calling, always known the kind of man you were going to be.”

I stare at her strangely. “You couldn’t be more wrong.” I pull out my phone and hold it out to her. “I’ve been just as lost as you have.”

Her eyes drop to the device, confusion written across her features.

“It was wrong of me to try to hide my past from you,” I continue. “Kemnebi has always judged me for trying to fill a void that only you could fill.” I push the phone toward her. “Take it. You have the right to know.”

Carla takes the phone and just stares at the screen, making no move to unlock it or scroll through its contents. After a long moment, she looks up at me.

“You haven’t given me a reason not to trust you, not once,” she says softly. “Your actions have always been genuine with me.” She holds the phone out to me. “I don’t want to see your past. I want to know your future.”

I don’t take the phone back, my gaze steady on hers. “Throw it in the water, then. The only thing I want is you.”

“But Bobby?—”

I shrug. “We live in a digital age. There are many ways to contact me.”

“Verde and Petra?—”

“You have my word,” I cut her off. “I will bring them back to you.”

A smile blooms across her face, radiant and pure. I close my laptop, the projected screen disappearing, and watch as she turns and tosses the phone into the lake with a decisive flick of her wrist. The small splash it makes seems insignificant compared to the weight lifting from my shoulders.

I move behind her, pulling her back against me and burying my face in her neck. She moans at the sensation, the sound stirring something deep inside me.

“Can I have my date with you now?” I murmur against her skin.

She turns in my arms to face me, eyebrows raised. “You’re serious?”

“Absolutely.” I brush a curl from her face. “I have a gift for you back at the cabin.”

I pull her fully into my arms, hands sliding down to grip her ass. Tofi immediately stomps her feet in protest and takes off into the forest. I pull back and pout my lips.

“I think Tofi’s jealous,” I say. “I’ll spend some daddy-daughter time with her later.”

Carla looks after Tofi’s retreating form. “I’ve never seen her like this. She really likes you.”

“Of course she does,” I reply smugly. “She’s a daddy’s girl.”

Carla rolls her eyes but helps me pack up my laptop. She slips her hand into mine as we walk back to the cabin, our fingers intertwined. The warmth of her palm against mine feels right, like our hands were designed to fit together.

“Go upstairs,” I tell her when we reach the cabin, and she complies without question, heading up the stairs while I follow behind.

She gasps when she reaches the bedroom. Several boxes wrapped in ribbons sit on the bed, surrounded by beautiful roses. She looks back at me, and I’m leaning against the doorframe with my hands stuffed in my pockets, grinning smugly at her surprise.

“How did you do this?” she asks, looking back at the boxes.

I walk from the doorway and approach her, placing my hands on her waist and leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Open them,” I urge, nudging her toward the bed.

“But how?” she persists. “No one ever wants to come to the patrol cabin because of my children.”

I shrug casually. “Kade and Damon don’t mind.”

She turns back to the largest box, pulling the ribbon free and lifting the lid. She pushes aside the tissue paper and pulls out a beautiful black spaghetti strapped dress. When she checks the tag, her brow furrows.

“It’s the wrong size, baby,” she says, “but thank you for the effort.”

I move my hand down to her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know it’s a size too small. That’s the point.” I pull her closer against me. “I want it to hug all your curves, like a fuck-me dress.”

She blushes, then narrows her eyes at me. “I thought you don’t approve of fuck-me dresses on me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t approve of you wearing fuck-me dresses for assholes like Ackley.” I squeeze her ass again. “I want you to wear it for me.”

I bury my face in her neck, planting a gentle kiss against her claim mark. She moans at the contact, the sound shooting straight to my groin.

“I want to watch your ass move in it during our date,” I whisper, “so when we get home, I can fuck the dress right out of you.”

I take a finger to her chin and tilt her head up, pressing my lips to hers briefly before stepping back. “Open the others.”