Thierry grumbled something under his breath about “disrespect,” but he pushed to his feet and trudged after her.
Alone in the foyer, Dominic settled his hand on Sammy’s hip and guided him closer. “Don’t mind Chapel.”
“She’s exhausted and stressed.” Sammy relaxed into him with a shrug. “Besides, I’m not offended. Everyone says that at first.”
“Who says that? Give me names.”
Sammy’s laughter reverberated throughout the foyer as he pulled away and headed down the hall.
Dominic let him go, a strange sensation blooming in his chest as he watched him disappear around the corner. Satisfaction? Contentment? Indigestion?
Of course, he’d been joking about the names—mostly—but it felt damn good to see his mate smile for once. Not one of thoseforced, strained smiles either, but something warm and genuine, accompanied by the kind of laughter that couldn’t be faked.
Twenty minutes later, he and Sammy carried a couple of serving trays laden with muffins, fresh fruit, and brewed coffee into the library. They had just finished setting everything out on the coffee table in the corner seating area when Kennedy strolled through the doorway.
Her platinum hair hung wetly down her back, the strands a couple of shades darker than usual. A pair of pink cotton pajama shorts showed off the scratches on her legs, each in a different stage of healing, and an oversized sweatshirt hung off her shoulders.
Barefoot and fresh faced, she looked incredibly young. Innocent. No one would guess that a few hours ago, she had ripped out a vampire’s jugular with her teeth.
And laughed about it.
“Coffee?” Stepping forward, Sammy held out a smoky gray mug by the handle.
“Thanks.” Kennedy clutched it between her hands and brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply. “Oh, that’s nice.”
She settled into the corner of the leather sofa and tucked her feet under her. While she sipped her coffee, Sammy plated a muffin for her, along with a couple slices of fruit and a paper napkin.
“Thanks!” She snatched the muffin up and tore into it like a fucking savage. “That’s really good,” she mumbled, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk. “Did you bring any butter?”
Sammy frowned. “Uh…no?”
Shrugging, Kennedy ripped off another bite with her teeth. Then, in a deep voice dripping with Texas twang, she added, “It’d be a lot cooler if you did.”
Sammy stilled and blinked a few times before glancing up at him. “Did she just—?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then.”
The kid was obsessed with the nineties, despite the fact that she hadn’t been alive yet. Given that Sammy was only a couple of years older, Dominic was kind of surprised that he’d picked up on the reference.
“I watched a lot of movies as a kid,” he said when he caught Dominic eyeing him.
While technically a complete statement, and a benign one on the surface, it reeked of subtext. Before Dominic could question him further, however, Saint and Boone strolled into the room, soon followed by Chapel and Thierry.
Thierry looked…bad.
The male always had a bit of a stretched appearance. After the fight, though, he looked sunken, hollow. Dark bruises swept under his eyes, and deep cuts stood out in sharp relief against a complexion one shade warmer than a corpse.
Their eyes met, held, and Thierry dipped his head with finality. He was fine, and if he wasn’t, he still wouldn’t be discussing it.
Once everyone had settled on the sofa or in the matching armchairs, Dominic sank onto the loveseat, pulling his mate down with him. Sammy looked at him with wide eyes and parted lips, clearly surprised at being included in the meeting.
“Problem?”
Sammy shook his head quickly, but he didn’t relax, sitting stiffly on the edge of the cushions.
“By the goddess,” Kennedy snapped, drawing everyone’s attention. “Just eat it.”