Fated Series. Book #2
"Be possessive of me, own me, keep me, because if you do then nothing and no one else can." - Maddox.
My name is Maddox Vallero, and I'm dead.
Well, that's not quite true. I'm alive in the breathing, walking, talking sense-but...
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Chapter 12 The Last War Maddox
I stood in the corner of the lounge, waiting for our parents to disembark their private plane. I'd like to say I wanted to be here, but that would be a lie. Don't get me wrong—I'm excited to see them. It's been too long, and sure, we met up a few times, but it's different. When you grow up with them around, there's something strange, almost unsettling, about their absence. I missed them. But lately, my mood's been all over the place, and it's making it hard to keep myself grounded.
My mind keeps looping back to my last conversation with Sophia. Technically, it wasn't the last one, since we've had several in the past four days since I blurted out that I wanted her and she, in her own way, told me to go to hell. But these new conversations lack something—a spark, a heat I'd grown used to. I think she's purposely keeping it professional, and I didn't realize how much I'd miss her challenging, sharp-edged pushback until I was left standing there, watching her walk away.
It hurt. Or rather, it tore me in two. But I've come to understand Sophia enough to know it's not that she doesn't feel this pull between us. She does. I see it every time she glances at me, then quickly looks away. She's afraid to let someone in, afraid to let someone care about her. And, in some way, I get it. I'm afraid too—afraid of what it would mean if I lost her. Afraid of a life without the spark she's brought back, without those ocean eyes pulling me under every time she looks at me.
For years, I thought I'd left the last of myself buried in the dirt, back when I was pulled out of that life. But Sophia's managed to show me there's something left—something that wants to fight, if it's for her. So, she can say she doesn't want me all she likes. I know it's more than that. She's afraid of me seeing her past, knowing her weaknesses, holding her secrets. But I'm a trickster by nature, and if I have to coax her into falling for me, then so be it.
"You're brooding," Aster's voice cut through my thoughts, making me jump as she came up beside me.
I couldn't help the smile that slipped onto my face. "I don't brood."
She laughed, keeping a few inches between us, which I was grateful for. "You might not think so, Madds, but you brood. You've been brooding for years now, and actually, lately is the first time it's started to lessen," she said, and she was right, in a way. I've been off for a long time.
"You'll miss it when it's gone," I chuckled, deflecting, like I always do with topics that have too much darkness in them.
But Aster shook her head at me. "I doubt it. I kind of miss the old Maddox."
I rolled my eyes. "Who's the old Maddox, star? I'm still me. Still the same."
She hopped up onto the table against the wall, dangling her legs and folding her hands on top of her ripped jeans. She gave me her iconic sunflower look—warm, curious, all-knowing in that way only Aster could be. "Do you remember that time I tried ballet, and Mateo joined because I was too scared to do it on my own?" she asked, and I nodded, smirking at the memory. I still tease him about it. He refused to wear a tutu, so I gifted him one for his birthday a few years later. It was hilarious.
