Come Here, Kitten (God of War Book 1), стр. 26
Ruffles popped her head out and gave me a loud, drawn-out meow.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. We’re out of chips,” I said.
She mewed again, climbing up onto my shoulder and licking the back of my neck.
“Girl, I’m getting you some now. Settle down.”
I pushed a cart down the aisle and stared amazingly at how big this place was. It looked like an indoor football stadium with about fifty aisles, food stocked on every shelf, and it was crowded beyond belief. Some people smiled at me, and others stepped out of my way and avoided me like wolfsbane, eyeing the cat on my shoulder.
When I finally made it to the chips, Ruffles sighed in my ear. I needed to stop feeding her addiction. It was quite unhealthy. I glanced around at the large variety. Ruffles Flamin’ Hot. Ruffles Double Crunch Hot Wings. Ruffles Loaded Chili and Cheese. My gaze landed on the Ruffles Reduced Fat, and I smiled. This one would do.
Ruffles hissed when I placed the bag in the cart.
“Ruffles, come on. You can’t eat the fatty stuff all the time.”
She swatted my chin with her paw.
“Ruffles …”
“Meow.”
I rolled my eyes and put the Reduced Fat chips back on the shelf, getting her favorite original Ruffles chips instead. She purred delightfully, rubbing her face against mine. This girl was more addicted to chips than Ares was to war.
“Now, get back into the backpack,” I said.
She hopped into the backpack, her purrs vibrating through it. Tapping my fingers against the cart, I hummed and continued walking, my thoughts consumed by my mate. Ares and Mars were the same person but so entirely different. I didn’t really understand it.
It was like he had a dual personality or something—with Mars being so soft and gentle, and Ares being so incredibly savage and ruthless and … sexy.
I blinked a few times, trying to get him out of my head. What was I even thinking? I didn’t like Ares. He was too pushy, too arrogant, too fucking dominant and tempting. Why was I so addicted to such a monster?
Someone bumped into my cart as I turned the corner.
“I’m sorry!” Charolette said, running her hand over her pin-straight hair. Her pink lips softened into a smile. “Oh, it’s you.”
My cheeks flushed. I still couldn’t believe that she was his sister. Not his lover. Not his trophy. His sister. Stupid, jealous me had made a fool out of myself earlier. I’d let my guard down and acted as if I cared about Ares in the slightest.
She stuck out her hand. “By the way, I’m Charolette!” she said.
I took her hand in mine and inhaled the scent of roses.
“Sorry about earlier. If I had known that Mars hadn’t told you about me, I wouldn’t have been so close to him.”
I shook my head, my cheeks flushing even more. “No, it’s my fault. Don’t apologize. My wolf … I …” I gave her a smile. “I let Marcel talk me into getting jealous.” Because I wasn’t jealous. Nope, not at all. I didn’t like Ares. I couldn’t like Ares.
She rolled her eyes and walked down the aisle with me, a shopping basket hanging off her arm. “Moon Goddess, Marcel. Don’t listen to a word he says unless it has to do with fighting. He’s a major player, and he will probably try to get into your pants more than once. Just avoid him at all costs, trust me.”
“I’m sure Ares will make sure of that.”
She giggled, picked up some Fruit Loops, and put them into her basket. “I’m glad Mars found you. You’re going to be good for his crazy ass. Ares can be hella hard to tame.”
I let out a laugh, trying to figure out if Ares or Mars was just a nickname for him, and smiled at her. Charolette seemed fun, like she’d be a good friend. And damn, did I need a friend to talk to after what had just happened. Besides Tony and Elijah, I didn’t have any friends back home.
“Amen to that,” I said, glancing at the ground. “I just don’t know if he’s going to be good for me.”
“He’ll drive you insane, but”—she quieted down—“it’s because he cares about you. It can be hard to deal with both of them, but it’ll be worth it. They love hard.”
“Both of them?” I asked, hoping to get some more information about his two polar opposite personalities.
“Mars and Ares,” she clarified. “He has dissociative identity disorder. We met Ares over a decade ago. We rarely see Mars anymore. It was a hard transition for my dad and me, but it was even harder for Mars. He … hurt himself over it and some other stuff.” The last words came in a whisper.
“Dissociative identity disorder,” I whispered to myself.
My mate had two personalities, and I had already seen both of them despite Charolette saying that Mars wasn’t as active anymore, if that was even the right way of saying that.
It made so much more sense now, but why’d Ares suddenly appear? Did something happen to him?
Just as I was about to ask, Charolette gazed in my cart—which was full of cat litter, cat treats, cat toys, and chips—and steered the conversation elsewhere. “You know, I didn’t think he’d ever find someone he liked enough to let her bring a cat into his house.”
And so I dropped my question, deciding that it was too personal right now.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“He didn’t tell you?” she asked, brow arched. “He’s allergic.”
“Allergic?” I asked, my heart clenching.
He hadn’t wanted me to bring Ruffles because he was allergic to cats, and I’d brought her anyway. I’d thought he was just being heartless and cruel.
I needed to find another place to keep her. I thought about asking Charolette to watch her until I got things sorted out … but Ruffles would never