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“Saturday—which we anticipate will pull in the highest numbers online, assuming things go well—will, of course, be Corey,” Holt announced in an overly patient tone. On Larkin’s phone screen—which he was still obediently holding up, though he had begun fidgeting restlessly—Corey gave the camera a demure smile and daintily sipped his espresso as Holt continued, “Against Brian.”

Brian, the werewolf B. Were, smiled shyly over by the counter, fiddling with his beaker.

“We’ll give them a show, darling,” Corey declared through the video call. Behind him, his hair stylist—a fae with a multicoloured mullet—paused in trimming the orc’s long black hair to snap his fingers in agreement.

“And Sunday will be Val against Frank and Beans,” Holt finished hurriedly. “Sorry, Val.”

She sighed. Frank cackled and finally let go of Seb’s leg. He grabbed Beans’ ankle and dragged him off too, then the pair of them ran behind the couch.

I hurriedly placed my head on my neck and shifted to my human form so they couldn’t sneak up on me and run off with it.

Now that Frank and Beans were no longer attached to his boyfriend, Larkin shuffled closer to Seb and wrapped his arm around his waist. The big werewolf kissed the top of his head, idly threading his fingers through the fae’s bright pink hair.

“Larkin, please keep the camera steady,” Corey said sharply, frowning. “You know I get nauseated.”

Larkin flushed. “Sorry.”

Seb stiffened, and his big hand settled protectively on Larkin’s nape. “Maybe you shouldn’t make hair appointments when you’re supposed to be at work, so you could be here in person,” he said calmly.

Seb. The guy I’d probably only heard say a total of ten words before this.

The big room fell deathly silent. Larkin’s mouth had dropped open into a surprised little O. Holt was giving Taylor a wide-eyed look. He mouthed something to him. Vince and I exchanged a quick, meaningful glance. Even Crossbody looked shocked that Seb, of all people, would say something like that to Corey.

To everyone’s surprise, the orc laughed after a few long, tense seconds. “Darling, do you honestly believe that I am going to let myself be broadcast to the world without getting a blowout?”

“No,” Seb said steadily. “I’m just pointing out that Larkin isn’t your assistant. It’s not his job to stand there and hold up the phone for you.”

“I’ll do it next time,” Taylor said hurriedly, then lunged forward. “In fact, I’ll do it right now. You don’t have to stay, Lark. Thanks for your help. Really. I’m sure Corey appreciates it.”

“I’m sure he does,” Seb echoed calmly, but there was a slightly threatening undertone to the words.

Damn, that was kind of hot.

Larkin seemed to think so too, because he was pressing even closer to the big werewolf and a telltale flush was creeping up his throat. “Um, yeah, it’s cool. No worries. I don’t mind. Hey, Seb,” he said abruptly in an overly chirpy voice. “I just remembered I need to… move those boxes in the storage room. Do you, uh, want to—”

“Yep.” Seb took the phone from Larkin’s hand and swiftly passed it to Taylor, before the pair of them turned and strode out of the room.

“Right.” Holt cleared his throat and looked back down at his tablet. “Well, let’s all avoid the storage room for the next hour or so. Anyway, on to the rest of the matches…”

Once he’d finished reading out the line-up for the week, the sound of a blow dryer blared out from the phone in Taylor’s hand. He hurriedly said goodbye to Corey and hung up, then turned to us with a big smile.

“So, this is all very exciting. We’ve got an aggressive ad campaign planned for the week across several sites that Rafe has vetted, but we’re kind of seeing this as a soft launch for the pay-per-view, so we can get a feel for the numbers and work out any snags that might crop up.”

“Why would there be snags?” Crossbody asked snippily. He was still looking sour-faced over having not been picked as a headliner for our big online launch. “I thought we’d hired someone specifically for this.”

I glared over at him.

“We have,” Holt replied steadily, “and Rafe is great. But obviously, certain things are out of his control.”

“Like what?” Crossbody asked flatly.

Vince rolled his eyes. “Just admit that you don’t know how the internet works, Spring Prince.”

Crossbody’s nostrils flared. “I know how the fucking internet works.”

“Oh yeah?” Vince smirked. “You got good Wi-Fi in Mommy’s palace in Otherworld?”

The royal fae’s pale face turned dark purple. “I’ve lived here for six fucking years. I know how the internet works.”