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But I’ve yet to have that problem with the fae in Cael’s kingdom. They’re all so different, but those differences haven’t stopped a single one of them from being kind.
“I don’t like the gloves,” Ollie says at last, drawing me from my thoughts.
My mouth drops open. “What do you mean? They pull the look together.”
His head bobs. “They work well with the outfit, but…” He approaches, lifting my hand in his. “I don’t like them.” He pulls one glove off, letting it vanish into nothingness the moment it’s no longer touching my skin and I lose my hold on its magic. His touch threads with mine, and he finds my eyes. “For reasons.”
Warmth runs under my skin as I tighten my hold and try, futilely, not to think about…husband and wife stuff.
An inexplicable calm settles over Ollie as he tilts my chin up, kisses my cheek, whispers in my ear, “Having inappropriate thoughts, sunshine?”
“Whatever gives you that idea?” I whisper back. I’m fluttery. I don’t know if the feeling will ever go away.
He hisses a curse against the shell of my ear. “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to bring you anywhere near them. Hurting and insulting me is one thing… I’m used to how they treat me…but you?” He pulls me in, plants his strong touch at my waist, and cements my body against the heat of his. “I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t think they’ve ever seen me pissed off before.”
“Do we have to go?” I ask.
Ollie’s lips tip into a horribly seductive and wry smile. “Unfortunately, Zy has been waiting outside for ten minutes. I am starting to feel bad.”
“Oh. I hadn’t noticed.” Now that he’s mentioned it, though, someone who smells like sweet grass is outside, like, breathing and letting their heart beat and stuff.
“You’ve had your head in a fan,” Ollie offers, straightening.
I grip his hand to keep him from going too far. “I am living my best life.”
“You are precious.” Taking a deep breath, he presses a hard kiss to my knuckles. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
I change into a summer outfit that’s a little less cumbersome than a ballgown as I trot after Ollie’s broad back, fully prepared to bite a brother if he dares to hurt my husband. Since I’ve been lost in the wonders of marriage-hood and tiny dog-ness, I have entirely neglected to so much as attempt becoming a wolf, dire or otherwise.
I am, however, somewhat confident in my ability to do so regardless of the “rules.” The instant anyone pushes my patience where it concerns my sweet husband, I’m Kronus to Poseidoning an antagonist.
Consider me a rabid fangirl. And fear me.
Ollie steps outside, and Zylus tilts his head against one of my back porch pillars, glancing our way. Voice its usual melodic, he says, “How’s marriage?”
“Amazing,” I chirp.
Ollie skims his fingers through his hair as the tips of his ears turn red. “Shut up…”
Zylus’s fangs flash in the sunlight. “Brit, pup of choice?”
“Pomeranian!”
Zylus hides a laugh beneath a cough. “Yep. She’s yours.”
Ollie rolls his eyes even as his grip on my hand tightens. “Of course she’s mine. She’s perfect.”
“Is Willow not joining us?” I ask. She would incinerate anyone who bothers Ollie, I just know it. One does not build an entire room for their friend, complete with glittery bedroom door sign, and not absolutely maul anyone who says a bad word about them.
Zylus yawns, flawlessly feline. “She told me to say that she really wanted to come, but actually she’d rather wash her hands with dish soap instead of hand soap.”
How delightfully specific. It makes my skin crawl, just slightly.
“Is it too late to invite Pollux?” I ask.
“Yes,” both men say.
“Wouldn’t it be fun?”
