Chapter 24: Choose your General, Not Your War

Roman

I woke up still riding the high of that kiss… of her.

The way she had responded—soft at first, then melting into me like she belonged there—had my chest tight and my wolf pacing in restless satisfaction.

Mate, Reaper rumbled, smug as hell.

Mate.

The word settled deep, grounding and electrifying all at once. And like a complete idiot drunk on it, I decided I was going to make her breakfast.

That… was my first mistake.

The second was letting Nathan “help.”

“I’ve got the bacon,” I told him confidently.

“You sure about that?” he asked, already sounding entertained.

“I can cook,” I snapped.

Five minutes later, the bacon proved it had a personal vendetta against me. It hissed, spat, and popped like it was alive—one piece practically launching itself out of the pan.

“Did it just—attack you?” Nathan choked out, laughing.

“Shut up and watch the toast!”

“I am watching the toast,” he said defensively.

The smell hit a second later.

Burnt. Completely obliterated.

I turned just in time to see him staring at the toaster like it had betrayed him. “It was fine a second ago.”

“Take it out!”

“I am—”

Smoke curled upward. At the same time, the eggs I’d abandoned made a violent sizzling sound, and when I looked back— Flames. Actual flames licking up the side of the pan.

“Oh, for—Nathan!” I yelled at him

“I’m handling the toast!” he shot back.

“The kitchen is on fire!” I tried to get him to focus.

“And I’m emotionally invested in this toast now!” he said stubbornly.

Flour dusted the counter, the floor, somehow even the walls, because at some point he’d tried to make pancakes and lost control of the batter. There was more of it outside the bowl than in it.

I grabbed a dishcloth, swearing, trying to smother the flames while the smoke thickened around us.

“Open a window!” I instructed him.

“You open a window!”

“You’re closer!”

“I’m holding the hot toaster, Roman!”

“Drop the damn toaster!”

“I will not abandon my post!”

The pan flared again. “REAPER,” I snapped internally.

“Sorry, you’re on your own. I’m not a complete fool," he replied dryly.

Before I could ask what that meant, Nathan suddenly went still—then his head snapped toward the door.

“Oh I have an idea,” he muttered—and then the traitor ran. Actually ran.

“Nathan!” I barked, coughing as the smoke thickened.

And then—She walked in. Or should I say was dragged in. Sienna. Barefoot, calm, eyes taking in the disaster in one sweep.

No panic. No dramatics.

Just… quiet command. “Move,” she said simply.

And I did. Like it was instinct. Like it had always been that way.

She moved through the chaos with an ease that left me staring—turning off the heat, grabbing the right lid, cutting the oxygen to the flame in seconds.

Windows opened, smoke vented, ruined pans set aside without a second thought.

She gave out instructions like a General on the field of battle, calm authority restoring order to chaos.

“Nathan, water—not on the stove. Counter.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, suddenly very obedient as he reappeared like he hadn’t just abandoned me to die.

Within minutes… minutes… the fire was gone, the smoke thinning, the disaster contained.

I just stood there, watching her.

Watching my mate take control of a situation that had completely defeated two grown men.

No fuss. No hysteria. Reaper noted, impressed. Excellent Luna potential.

Yeah. No argument there.

As soon as she left, Nathan was on me. "OK...what did I miss...was that a hickey on her neck?"

I could feel the heat creep up my neck. I had also noticed it the minute the air had cleared enough.

"Hell yeah." Reaper preened shamelessly.

I looked at him, half pride...half embarrassment..."I was just tucking her in and then that fucker called." I said, blood boiling just thinking about him.

"She compared our kisses..and I just lost it..I just wanted to erase him, mark her as mine." I told him, raking a hand through my hair.

Nathan threw back his head and laughed..."Good on you bro...marking your territory."

I threw a dishtowel at him..."Fuck off arsehole. Get cleaning, that pint sized General is terrifying if we don't follow orders."

By the time Nathan and I finished salvaging what we could and doing the dishes, the house no longer smelled like a smokehouse.

I cleaned up, changed, tried to regain some dignity. It didn’t work.

Because when we walked next door—

Sienna had just finished laying the table. And it was… unreal.

Crispy bacon. Perfectly done. Fluffy scrambled eggs. A stack of soft golden pancakes that looked like something out of a dream.

Fresh coffee brewing, rich and warm. The smell alone nearly dropped me to my knees.

Nathan leaned closer grinning, mindlink snapping in. “She did this in twenty minutes… Who exactly from the three of us is the autistic one?”

I elbowed him - hard.