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Strengthening my mental defenses, I patted her arm. I knew enough of Matilda’s history to know I wasn’t eager to glimpse her nightmares.
“It isn’t your fault,” I said.
“I owe you better than this.”
“Why would you say that? You don’t owe me anything.”
Her gaze lowered. “Do they have to snore?”
“I suspect all werewolves snore.”
The hint of a smile appeared. “And what about your demon lover? Does he snore?”
“I wouldn’t know.” What I should’ve said was, “None of your business.”
Her eyes locked on me. “What are you waiting for, cariad? Life is too short.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to date him.”
“The threat of the Wild Hunt has altered my perspective.”
“I’m a goddess. I’m not in a rush,” I said.
“Excuses,” she spat. “What’s your plan? Hold off until you’re ninety?”
“That depends. Will I still look like this?”
She made a disgruntled sound at the back of her throat. “You’ve already lost so much. I was wrong to dissuade you. Don’t lose opportunities to connect.”
“You should talk. Where are your special connections?”
She gave me a powerful look. “I’m here with one right now.”
“We’re talking about romantic connections.”
“And I’m talking about love. Family. Friends. Lovers. Those relationships are all powered by love, but first you must connect. Without that…” She shrugged. “You’ll never make it to the next stage—the one that deepens and strengthens those bonds until there’s nothing in the world that can break them.”
“Sounds like we’re interrupting an important conversation.” West stood at the entrance to the clearing, along with Bert and Anna.
Bert glanced at the snoring werewolves. “Sleeping on the job again? I think these two should be taken out of the rotation.”
“It isn’t their fault,” I said. “A hobgoblin enchanted them.”
“I wish someone would enchant me to sleep,” Bert said. “I’m lucky if I get six hours a night.”
“The sleep is necessary to break the enchantment,” Matilda explained. “The hobgoblin is prone to spreading mischief and mayhem.”
Rather like a certain goddess currently residing in my house.
“Their argument would’ve escalated until they murdered each other,” I added.
West looked at me. “Appreciate the heads up, Lorelei.”
Anna’s eyes narrowed. “He called you Lorelei.”
“That’s my name.”
“But he always calls you Clay. When did you two make nice and why did no one inform me?”
