HEART2HEART

A PARANORMAL CHARITY ANTHOLOGY, VOLUME 7

ALICE WINTERS

ELIOT GRAYSON

GRAE BRYAN

KIKI CLARK

LARK TAYLOR

MACY BLAKE

MIKA NIX

TAVIA LARK

TAYLOR RYLAN

Edited by LESLIE COPELAND

Copyright © 2024 Leslie Copeland (of the collection)

Copyright © of each individual work belongs to the respective author or artist.

Cover design: Sleepy Fox Studios, sleepyfoxstudio.net

Cover photo: CJC Photography, cjc-photography.com

Model: Dominic

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CONTENTS

Thank You

You Can’t Spell Necromancer Without Romance

Alice Winters

Hot Date

Eliot Grayson

Sweet Treats

Grae Bryan

Looking 4 Furever

Kiki Clark

Locked in Love

Lark Taylor

Love Me Love My Dogs

Macy Blake

Not So Cupid

Mika Nix

Starry Night

Pandora Pine

The Hidden God of Open Doors

Tavia Lark

Love Under the Sea

Taylor Rylan

A Letter From the H2H Team

THANK YOU

THANK YOU

Thank you to the hundreds of readers who submitted character and story ideas. Special mention to those whose creativity inspired a story or two in this paranormal collection: Lynn, Christina, Amanda, Sandi, Heidi, Zakiyya, David, Megan, Kathy, Tracy, Jenny, LeeAnn, Mary, Isabelle, Elle, Julie, Sabrina, Carmen, Marie, Nicole, Dorothy, Scotty, Dinah, Cheryl, Frances, Brenda, Laina, Kirstin, and Red.

Thank you to Chris at CJC Photography for the donation of his skills in capturing the gorgeous image of model, Dominic, that graces our covers.

Thank you to Kelley at Sleepy Fox Studios for her patience and creativity with our double-release covers and promo materials.

Thank you to the beta readers, editors, and proofreaders who donated or discounted their services to help our stories shine: Charity, Joanna, Jen, Kirk, Janine, Mia, Becky, J.L., Sandra, Melissa, Karen, Amy, Abrianna, Courtney, Lori, and Kiki.

Thank you to our charities: the work you do is invaluable and we’re proud to support you with this project.

And, as always, thank you to those two little words, “what if.”

Ready to meet the love of your life this Valentine’s Day? Put your trust in Cupid!

You know that here at Heart2Heart we’ve helped thousands of lonely hearts find their perfect match, mate, and bond over the last five years.

Now, your romantic future is about to get even brighter thanks to the cheeky cherub themself, Cupid. Known worldswide as the number one matchmaker, we’re thrilled to partner with them for this special Valentine’s Day event in which they’ll use H2H’s enormous database to find the magical match that’s just right for you.

Ready to embrace your romantic destiny? Put your trust in Cupid and sign up today.

YOU CAN’T SPELL NECROMANCER WITHOUT ROMANCE

ALICE WINTERS

CHAPTER ONE

AXTON

“Did you do that?”

I glance over at my assistant, Ricky, who is pointing at the dead body in my front yard.

“Did I…” I wave at the body. “Did I kill them and decide, ‘Oh, you know the best place to toss a dead body would be in my front yard’?”

He’s scrutinizing me like he can’t tell if I’m using sarcasm. “Yes?”

“Of course I didn’t kill them!”

“What about Hades, did he do it?”

I look over at the miniature horse who is currently sniffing the dead body. When every witch hits sixteen, they’re blessed with a familiar. My mother had a pretty typical black cat who was nice but nothing fancy, while my father had an extremely rare hound. When both of my siblings also summoned hounds on their birthdays, I never would have guessed that on my sixteenth birthday, I would summon a gray and white miniature horse.

Not even a regular horse that I could ride.

No.

A miniature horse.

A miniature horse who is currently pawing at the dead guy.

“Knock it off, leave the body alone before you contaminate the crime scene!”

Hades, who I’d given the name to in a foolish attempt to make him seem less embarrassing when I was a fragile sixteen-year-old boy, glances over at me. With a sassy head flick, he tosses his thick white mane before trotting off with a squeal.

“Someone clearly wants you dead,” Ricky says. “We had the death threat earlier in the week and now this.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“You remember that seer who predicted the death of thousands at the hand of that elven necromancer?” he asks.

“Hmm… yeah.” Sometimes there are so many seers seeing nonsense that I tend not to believe things until I see them with my own two eyes. Although, in this case, the seer was Danielle, a very talented woman who hasn’t been proven wrong yet.

“What if you ask the necromancer to bring the guy back to life?”

“You think I should ask the necromancer who is going to be responsible for thousands of deaths to come over to my house and revive the dead guy in my front yard?”

Ricky shrugs. “I mean, you could take the body over there, but it might be a bit weird to show up with a body in tow.”

This is my first day off in what feels like weeks, and I really don’t have the energy to deal with this. “I’m going back to bed. Wake me when things are fixed.”

“You’re like… the designated hero. You’re supposed to be off saving people and stuff.”

“Sounds dreadful. I think a nap sounds better.” I don’t hate being a hero—it’s something that my family has done for generations—but sometimes I just want a good nap.

“Did you at least call the police?”

“That’s what I was forgetting,” I realize. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Hades, don’t eat the flowers!”

Hades glances at me and because I caught him in his act of evil, he sassily strikes the ground, like he’s daring me to come tell him that to his face. For how little the horse is, he’s sure packed to the brim with sass, but I still love him… sass and all. He tosses his mane again before wandering off to fuck something else up. While people on the outside might not understand our relationship, it’s clear we both love each other. He just shows it by stomping and squealing at me when he doesn’t get his way.

Just as I turn to walk into my house, I feel a weird surge of magic flare up in front of me. With my hand hovering over the door, I can sense something there, but I can’t quite place it. I get the feeling that if I were to grab the doorknob right now, it would hurt me… could it even kill me?

Was the body a distraction? Or was it simply used to aid the spell that’s been placed on my home?

“Sir?”

“Don’t touch the door. Stay here and make sure no one touches the door; there’s a spell on it. Call in the body too. The door will likely hurt the next person who touches it… where does this damn necromancer live?”

“You know the old castle near the lighthouse? Rumor has it that he lives there. But please be careful. I heard that once people got wind of the seer’s premonition, people started going there in an attempt to stop him. He now enslaves them all as undead,” Ricky says, which is menacing enough.

“Well, if I don’t come home, you know where to find me… being some necromancer’s plaything,” I mutter as I head over to my SUV. I open the back and Hades jumps in. He has to keep his head down, but he fits well enough since I rarely go anywhere without him.

I debate heading to the park and taking a nap with the hope that when I wake up everything’s been fixed for me, but that has worked out in my favor all of one time in the past. And that time was simply because the issue in question died of old age before I arrived.

Coming from a line of witches whose sole purpose is to be the hero every storybook princess wants, I realized from a very young age that finding a princess and saving her was the last thing I wanted to do.

Buuuut I also don’t want to die. So that’s how I end up at the front gate of the large gothic-style castle. It’s quite fitting for a necromancer, and I question if I should have just waited for the medical examiner to help instead of going this route.

Getting out of the SUV, I leave Hades inside, fully feeling like the prestigious evil necromancer would take me less seriously if I had a tiny horse trotting after me spreading sass and mayhem.

I only make it to the gate before an undead looks over at me.

“Yo, my bro,” the man says.

I stare at the dead man and question how much of his brain was missing after he died. “I would like to see the necromancer.”

His happy-go-lucky attitude quickly turns to a scowl. “You’re one of those.”

“One of what?”

“Prepare yourself!” he declares.

“For what?” I ask, unsure what I said or did that instantly made him turn on me.

“Death,” he says before slowly backing away.

With that vague threat, I’m left standing alone at the gate. I wait there for a minute, looking for some way to get in before deciding that if I’m going to get answers, I’m going to do it my way.

Using a simple hand motion, I draw forth the wind and send it flying at the gate. The old rickety thing flings open, likely with more gusto than I should have inflicted on it.

I step inside a moment before cracks begin to form along the ground, spreading out all around me as a hand reaches out, like something out of a horror movie.

“I just want to speak with the necromancer,” I assure the dead as they rise from the cracks. Surely if the necromancer could summon all of them, he could pay attention to what’s happening out here and see that I simply want to talk. How hard is that?

When one of the dead men points his sword at me, I decide that it must be harder than I thought.

And when about fifty of them come charging at me, I realize that this necromancer is out to make my life even harder. But as I fight my way to the front door, absolutely none of it prepares me for the man sitting just inside the door.

The man who is destined to kill thousands. The man coated in darkness who could raise hundreds of dead with a single spell.

The man with fluffy white hair, big eyes, and pink clothes…

Hold on… what?

CHAPTER TWO

SYLVAN

There’s something horribly boring about being able to raise the dead. I mean… in video games or movies it sounds cool, but in real life, not so much.

I mean… how do you toss out that icebreaker on a date? “Hey, your dimples are so cute, and I love how your laugh is loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the restaurant, oh and I have the ability to manipulate my magic to dig deep into the earth’s surface and draw the dead out—oh, you have to get home? Right now? You sure? Ah, yeah, don’t mind me sitting here all alone growing older and saggier by the minute.”

“HANK!” I shout.

“Yes, sir?” the undead man asks as he hurries into the throne room of my castle. I’m not actually royalty, but as the story goes, my grandpa won the castle in a bet. The bet was one hundred percent in my grandfather’s favor after he rigged a boxing match by sending an undead man into the fight who he’d revived a few minutes before the match.

“I have a new plan,” I announce.

“For?”

“I’m going to be single for the rest of my life.”

“Yesterday’s date didn’t go that poorly… did it?” Hank asks with a hint of concern.

I think back to the look of absolute horror on my date’s face as one of my undead came racing out of the house because I forgot my jacket. And yeah… Fredrick might look a bit… unique but that was no reason for my date to immediately get back in his car and drive away.

“Can you even call it a date when he ran before I even got in the car?” I ask as I wallow in the chair.

My dream had been that by thirty, I would be married with little adorable children frolicking around and calling me Papa! Instead, at thirty, I’m only surrounded by dead people, and while I love them all (well, almost all of them), I still crave more. I mean, I literally have to use magic to make myself friends.

Here I am, the creepy guy who talks to dead people.

“Hank, I have decided to die as an old shriveled-up cat man. Get me some cats!”

Hank thinks about that for a moment. “Do you… want alive ones or are you looking for ones that you can bring back to life because…”

“No! I don’t want dead ones…” I stare at the dead man. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being dead… ha… ha?”

The way he stares at me makes me give him a smile… an “I think I fucked up there” smile.

“Just… get me cats. As many as you can carry. Kittens. Gobs of kittens. I want to drown in kittens.”

“Okay… and do you need anything else?”

“Ice cream.”

“Kittens and ice cream. Got it!” he says as he heads to the door a moment before another of my undead comes rushing up. She whispers something to Hank who then glances back at me. They continue their whispered chatter before I sigh.

“What is it?” I ask, well aware that this is likely going to squash my plans for the day.

“Umm… there’s a very handsome witch here… to vanquish you.”

“Did you tell him I was busy getting kittens?”

The newcomer, Nancy, shakes her head. “Fredrick said that he demanded vengeance or something… I don’t know. I didn’t really listen to him.”

“Why?”

“You get someone stopping by at least once a day with some grand plan of demolishing the evil that ‘roams these lands.’ It gets a bit boring after a while,” Nancy says.

“All because some stupid ‘seer’ predicted that I would be behind the destruction of the city… does it look like I’m up for mass human murder?”

“Well… the seer’s never been wrong,” Hank reminds me, which makes me grimace.

Nancy seems excited about that for some reason. “Ooh! Remember that little boy who went missing and Danielle, you know, the seer, was able to pinpoint the exact place he’d be so a sexy hero could swoop in and save him?” she gushes. “Danielle almost made my shriveled-up heart start beating again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter.

“Oh, and do you remember that building that collapsed? The seer could pinpoint exactly where the victims were and the police were able to bust in and use their magic to save the day,” she says. “She’s just so sexy.”

“I feel like you kind of don’t mind that she predicted my downfall because you think she’s hot.”

Nancy points at me while thinking about it. “That’s… a possibility.”

“So what did Fredrick tell the guy at the gate?”

“I have no idea,” she realizes.

There’s a loud explosion that perks my interest a bit. Mostly because my plans of being smothered by kittens seems to be getting further and further away. Walking over to the window, I realize that the hero has decided that he’s tired of waiting and has busted through the front gate.

“Hank, make him leave.”

“How?”

“Do I have to do everything?” I ask as I wander back to the middle of the room where a magic circle is drawn on the floor. It’s something I like keeping on hand for times like this where others are coming to make my life absolutely miserable.

I’m not a super fan of cutting myself, so I’m quite pleased that my magic is strong enough that all it requires of me is to simply set my hand on the circle once I had an established sigil. Since my grandfather was an… eccentric man with a lot of enemies, he made sure to bury the bodies of each of his enemies on the property to call upon at will.

That means that whenever I have problems to deal with, I have a multitude of dead people at my beck and call… issue is that ninety percent of them absolutely despised my grandfather, so more often than not, at least one or two try to figure out a way to join the hero in murdering me.

Unlike my father and grandfather, my necromancy is unusually powerful. While they could raise the dead if they were near their graves, I can raise any dead that I’ve acquired a connection to from practically anywhere. Say if I were fifty miles away and the dead were buried in my backyard, they would still appear right before me. While I don’t exactly know how I’ve accomplished this, it was something I learned in grade school when I was horribly failing a spelling test and remembered that we had a poet buried in the backyard. My guess is that my magic somehow opens a gate underground that allows them to come to me.

“Nancy, my battle tunes.”

“Got it!” she says and then hurries off a moment before my “Please Leave Me the Fuck Alone” playlist starts playing. I decide to do some Amazon shopping for my new pile of kittens while waiting, so I whip out my phone and leave them to it.

* * *

“Sylvan? Sir? Sylvan?”

I glance up from my phone, realizing that at some point I’d wandered off Amazon and ended up on the stupid Heart2Heart dating app with every intention of deleting it since everyone I met on there got scared off the moment they got to know me. I definitely wasn’t getting suckered back into it. And I definitely didn’t immediately click the “Cupid Event” where Cupid himself promised to set me up on a blind date with “My One True Love.”

Why did I click it? I’m positive that even Cupid’s not going to want to mess with finding me love. He’s going to laugh when he gets to me and send me something like “You’re destined to die alone.”

“Sylvan?”

“Yes?”

“The witch has bypassed all of the preliminary defenses.”

“Ah.”

“And he’s going to be at the front door shortly.”

My phone chimes and I glance down at the notification from the dating app that is still open. There’s a pink banner with a “Cupid’s located your soulmate! Only one hundred feet away! Would you like to see them now?”

“Well, hello,” I say as I eagerly click on it. “I’m a bit busy, but after we vanquish the witch, I have all night!” Hold on, am I seriously lucky enough that little ol’ me gets to know who my one true love is on this fine battle-filled day?

The not-so-beaming face of my one true love fills my screen just as the front door to my throne room is savagely blasted inward and the hero steps inside. I cock my head, glance down at my phone that says, “Your blind date starts… NOW!” and then look back up.

“Fuck me. Nooooooo!” I cry, wondering why fate is so damn cruel to me. First the seer who made my life an absolute hell, and now my “one true love” is the man who is here for my head. I slump down in my chair, defeat washing over me.

“Are you done?” the man asks a moment before Nancy comes in.

She freezes, then hurries over to me to whisper in my ear. “Oh, he is fiiiine. I would definitely surrender to him.”

I proceed to pretend like she doesn’t exist as I stare at the hero who does look rather fine on this dreadful day. But “fine” isn’t enough of an excuse for me to submit to my death to save a part of mankind. “Why should I surrender? Let me know what I’ve done.”

“I’m not… I’m not asking you to surrender. I have some questions,” Mr. My-Pants-Must-Be-Tight-So-I-Can-Properly-Save-Damsels says.

Hank slowly leans over. “Sir… are we surrendering? I’m… getting conflicting signals.”

“Look at your phone, you sexy beast,” I command the hero.

The witch seems to give me a “who, me?” look like he could possibly have no idea that he’s the sexy one in the room. I mean… does he really think my gobs of undead are who I’m talking about? I love them to absolute pieces but I really don’t want a boyfriend I have to magic life into.

The man hesitates before slowly pulling out his phone. The amount of time it takes him to stare at his screen would have been plenty of time for me to kill him ten times over. Then he slips it into his pocket and grimaces at me like he has absolutely no recollection of his phone’s declaration that we were meant to be. “I simply wanted to come in here and ask you a question. And instead, I’ve been stabbed at, chased, harassed…”

“Like… do you want to go somewhere fancy for our first date or like McDonalds? I’m pretty easy,” I inform him.

“WHAT?” he barks before quickly clearing his throat. Then he takes a deep, calming breath.

I ignore him and look at Hank. “Lovelies, get my date clothes, please.”

The undead, who were clearly caught up in their mid-battle poses, seem oddly confused by this turn of events.

“Although… I’m kind of tired after battling you all day,” I muse.

The witch gawks at me in this absolutely swoon-worthy way.

“You literally didn’t even come outside while I fought off hundreds of your undead,” he says. “All the while going, ‘Can I at least talk to the necromancer? Really, two minutes of his time is all I need.’ What were you doing while I fought them?”

I’m too embarrassed to tell him I was watching kitten videos and shopping on Amazon, so I try my hardest to think of an excuse. “I didn’t know you were planning to come make my life miserable today, you know? But what I’m saying is that maybe we could just… have our date right here?”

“The only date you have is with my magic,” he declares.

“That doesn’t sound very romantic, but I’m listening.”

He hesitates. “Just…” He takes a deep breath. “Ignore that last part. I’m… frustrated. I feel like if you don’t listen, I’m going to slay something.”

“You’re slaying this conversation.”

“I need a necromancer so I can talk to a dead man,” he says.

I hesitate as I stare at him. “So you weren’t coming in here to kill me?”

“I wasn’t, but then your… people all came running at me, forcing me to defend myself.”

“You didn’t come in with the intention of chopping my head off because some seer claimed I was evil?” I inquire.

“Not originally.”

“Oh. Now I feel a bit embarrassed. Why didn’t you just say something? I have a doorbell. You could have even knocked.”

He looks a smidge exasperated. “I tried. I was immediately dismissed and attacked.”

“Guys, why didn’t we just meet him at the gate and ask what he wanted?” I whisper.

They look at each other before shrugging, so I turn and give him a smile. “Is this a setup? Because someone already dragged me off to jail after they fooled me into thinking we were going to hang out and play Clue. Thankfully, they couldn’t hold me without proof and all that jazz, but it was dreadful being forced to sit there with nothing to do. You should have seen the fuss when I raised a dead mouse for company.”

The witch doesn’t seem to care as he watches me for a moment. “So? Will you revive the dead man?”

“I have to check my schedule. Hank, when do I have an opening?”

Hank hesitates. “Um… your next appointment is your haircut next month. Although you did talk about getting a hoard of kittens to drown out your woes later this afternoon. Is that still on the schedule?”

I clear my throat and refuse to look the handsome witch in the eyes. “While I am horrifically busy, I do think that I could spare five minutes for my soulmate.”

He just grunts and nods toward the door. “Then let’s go.”

I jump up and hurry after him. “I just want you well aware that if this is all a lie and you’re doing this to stab me in the back, I will murder you and bury your body in the front yard where I will raise you up every time my toilet gets plugged.”

He grunts a reply.

My fated soulmate seems far more interested in this dead body than us going on a date together, but that’s okay. I will simply need to wow him with my necromancy to woo him with my body.

CHAPTER THREE

AXTON

Knowing that I was stepping into the castle of a renowned elven necromancer, I already had a rather dark image of him in my mind. Seeing as none of the others who’d targeted the necromancer had actually gotten past his horde of undead, the tales of the man who raised the dead were quite impressive. I’ve heard multiple stories about how he’s slaughtered many while cackling maniacally from his throne. I’ve also heard that he sends his undead to nearby graveyards to dig up more dead so he can raise an army that will wipe out all of mankind.

And I can’t forget the plentiful descriptions of the gaunt man with pointed ears, hollow eyes, and long black hair that hangs in greasy strands.

Instead… this is who I’m presented with. An extremely cute and lithe man with slightly wavy white hair that hangs past his barely visible pointed ears. He looks like he’d be right at home wearing a flower crown and holding innocent baby animals.

He gives me a huge smile that makes me smile back for absolutely no reason.

“Do you like my flowers? I had to hunt all over for a dead person who likes to garden because the moment I look at a plant, it dies! Look at these—” He freezes, and that’s the moment I realize that Hades must have escaped the SUV and is currently eating his prized plants.

RIP, buddy.

The necromancer takes in a huge breath, likely to call hundreds of undead to smash my familiar which will force me to save him, but instead he says, “Oh my god it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” Then he dashes off for it, pink robes—which he’d had some dead guy bring him before we left the house—fluttering after him.

“He doesn’t like strangers and will strike anyone that’s not me…” I just stop talking as the necromancer drops to his knees in front of my familiar and wraps the miniature horse up in a hug. Hades, who would stomp anyone else to the ground, leans into him. Hell, he’s spent years with my family and barely allows them to pet him and he’s going to let this guy hug him?

“Is he yours? He’s absolutely adorable.”

“He is…” I’m still trying to get over this. Hades is so unfriendly with everyone but me. “This is my familiar… Hades.” I’m not sure if I’ve ever been so embarrassed giving his name to someone.

The necromancer doesn’t even bat an eye at the odd name, just continues to beam at the tiny horse. “I have deemed him the cutest creature to have ever existed.”

I stare at the strange man and question at what point he’s going to try to kill me on his way to slaughtering thousands.

“You know what you need?” he asks the horse. He jumps up and plucks a flower before sliding it into Hades’s mane. “Doesn’t he look adorable?”

I gape at the man as I question what kind of trick this is. Is it to get me to lower my defenses then slaughter me? I mean… I guess not all bad guys look like bad guys, right?

“Now let’s go see a dead man!” And with that, he hurries off to my car.

Halfway out to my SUV, he gasps before whirling around. “So my name’s Sylvan, and I just realized that I don’t know your name. You could be a serial killer or something. I’m not sure if you read my profile but that’s my number one no.”

Hold on… now he thinks I’m the possible serial killer? Shouldn’t that be him?

“It’s Axton. And you… you put on your dating profile… that you don’t want a serial killer?” I ask in disbelief. He gives me a look like he can’t fathom how this is strange.

“Are you a serial killer?” he inquires.

“If I were, you’d just have more bodies to play with.”

He scrutinizes me like I said something not quite wrong but definitely not right. “I never thought of it that way. Still no, hard pass on the serial killer. I don’t go on dates with them.”

“We… we aren’t going on a date. I’m having you revive a dead man.”

Sylvan hesitates, making me realize that at some point in the past ten minutes, he switched our plans around from reviving a dead man to going on a date. The stupid Cupid thing might have said we were “meant to be,” but this is definitely not how I saw a first date going. Though he’s handsome and he does seem rather sweet. Anytime I look at him, he just easily tosses me a smile that makes my heart do a little stutter.

“Oh… right. And I don’t have my driver’s license, so I’ll just ride with you. I mean… why learn to drive when I can just summon a dead person to do it? The only issue is that the last dead person I summoned to drive for me stole my car and drove off while I was reading a really good book, soooo…”

“Do you have any control over your undead?” I ask as I wonder how this “evil” necromancer let one of his undead steal his car.

“Of course I do! But it’s okay! I unsummoned him the moment I noticed… three days later. Now I just have to find the car! It’s out there somewhere… likely within a three-day drive.”

I send Hades into the back of the car while I mull this scenario over. The prophesied necromancer is so different from the one standing before me that I can’t help but question if I have the wrong guy. Maybe the necromancer is laughing at me behind my back as I tote his adorable nephew around or something. Although… I’m finding it hard to complain every time he flashes me one of those smiles.

Hades doesn’t seem to mind as Sylvan begins petting the muzzle of the horse who seems to already like him more than all the other people in my life added together.

As I back out of the driveway, I realize that all of the undead have come together to stand in the front yard and wave at us. It’s weird and kind of creepy but Sylvan waves back with vigor until he notices me staring and then seems embarrassed and pretends he was just fixing his white hair.

“Are you really Sylvan the necromancer who has been predicted will wipe out thousands of lives?”

“I am!”

“You shouldn’t sound so excited about that.”

He nods and replies with a gruff, “I am…”

“And?”

“And… I’m five foot ten and thirty years old. Oh, I like long walks on the beach and come with an affinity for the dead. I don’t have any pets yet, but I love them. Want kids, and I own my own… castle!”

I glance away from the road to look at him. “Was that… a recap of your dating profile?”

“I… guess? I don’t know. Thought it was more fun than talking about this dreary premonition,” Sylvan says as Hades starts rubbing his lip around in his hair. He laughs and pets the horse again, which Hades seems quite pleased about.

When we reach my house, there are police scattered about, telling me that Ricky did manage to call it in. Maybe they’ll have some answers, but if they don’t, my strange new necromancer might.

I notice that Sylvan starts to get fidgety the moment he sees the police cars. “Was this a setup?” he asks anxiously.

Glancing over at him, I realize that he looks quite alarmed about the whole thing. “What?”

“Let me out!”

“What? No! They’re just here because of the body. I had my assistant call in the body!”

Just as I’m slowing down, he smacks the door lock and jumps out of the moving car. It takes me far too long to register what’s just happened. Slamming on the brakes, I jump out and run after the necromancer.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not falling for your tricks. You probably paid Cupid to send that notification about you being my true love to me so you could con me into turning myself in!”

I hurry over to him a moment before I realize that in the span of one minute, he’s called for a mini army consisting of the largest men—and one woman—that I’ve ever seen.

“This jokester harassing you?” a man who could clearly crush my body in half with a squeeze of his hand says. “I will crush his body with a mere squeeze of my hand.” The announcement is practically word for word my new fear.

“Please don’t,” I say.

“I will use his bones for toothpicks,” another announces.

“That’s… a bit much, Paul,” Sylvan says with a grimace. “Just like scare him or… what… the hell…”

As his gang of bodyguards who all look prepared to murder me loom around him like a protective cocoon, I realize he’s transfixed by something.

“What is this?” he asks, and off he trots toward the police he was just in the process of running away from.

“What—” And that’s when I realize exactly what snagged his attention. While the police are sprinkled around my yard… none of them are moving. It’s almost like they’ve become stone statues tossed about. In the middle is Ricky who has also been petrified. But what the hell could have caused this?

CHAPTER FOUR

SYLVAN

“Are they supposed to be like this?” I ask.

“Did I choose to have multiple cops frozen in my yard? No, can’t say that was the plan. Are they dead?” Axton asks.

“No, definitely still alive,” I say as I walk between them. “Who did you piss off?”

“Umm… I pissed off the neighbor when Hades shit in her yard. I pissed off my mother when I told her I wanted to be a photographer instead of a hero. I pissed off a lot of people when I punched the guy I was tasked with saving in the face because he just had one of those attitudes.”

“I approve,” Johnny, who is a quarter giant, says.

“Did you kill him and keep the bones?” Paul—the one I didn’t mean to summon—says.

Axton slowly looks over at him. “I… did not.”

Paul tsks. “Next time.”

“Uh… huh…”

Axton is giving me a look like he’s asking if I condone this. For the record, I do not. I also tried having the others rebury Paul as far away from me as I could, but he keeps coming back whenever I summon the others. It’s a sore topic.

“Please don’t judge me by those I summon,” I whisper to Axton. The look on his face doesn’t tell me if he concurs or not.

Even so, I wade through the petrified people and over to the dead body they’d clearly been examining when this happened. Axton tries to keep up with me, but every time he gets close one of my bodyguards simply pushes him off in the other direction.

“Guys, it’s okay. He can walk near me,” I say, which must translate to “stand around him and heavily breathe down his neck while flexing your muscles.” To say that Axton looks uncomfortable is an understatement, but boy do I give him credit when he doesn’t run.

I kneel in front of the body to examine it. “With new bodies, it generally takes them a moment to adjust once I bring them back. He’ll likely still be caught up in his death, so just be prepared depending on how he died.”

“Okay,” Axton says and gives me a reassuring nod. Now that I know he wasn’t lying to me, he does seem rather sweet and understanding, even though I’m a necromancer.

I let my hand hover over the dead man’s chest. There’s never any flashy magic that bursts out of me or anything fancy. Instead, all I feel is a light static sensation from my fingers a moment before life surges into him.

He sits up with a gasp. And while the dead don’t need to breathe, they often do so because it’s what they did when they were alive. I wait for him to start screaming or begging for his life not to end, but instead he goes, “Sit that ass right on my face…” Then he slowly looks around.

“I thought you said they’d be caught up in their death,” Axton whispers.

“Yeahhhh…”

I feel a wave of awkwardness flash between the two of us as I try not to think what this man was up to when he died.

I decide to get right to the point. “So you’re dead. I’m a necromancer who brought you back in the hopes we could ask you some questions.”

“You’re shitting me…” He examines his hands as he thinks about that. “Did you bring me back for fun sex things? Because if you did, I’m all in.”

“What? No! Unless you did,” I say as I look toward Axton.

Axton pretends like I didn’t even ask the question as he kneels down in front of the dead man. “Who killed you?”

“I dunno.”

“Where did you die?”

“I dunno.”

“Who… who were you asking to… sit on your face?”

The man’s face lights right up. “Ahhh, so I⁠—”

And that’s the moment he turns to dust.

“Well… that’s never happened before,” I realize.

“Someone obviously doesn’t want me finding out why they want me dead,” Axton says with a sigh.

“You have any more dead bodies I can ask?”

“Yeah, I have a pile in the freezer.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t have to be so sassy.”

He gives me a shrug. “It’s my one downfall.”

I grin. “Oh?”

“What’s yours?”

“Are you flirting with me?” I ask, loving the idea. Clearly, I’m not allowed an answer as my group of bodyguards encase me so I can’t even see the man, quickly cutting off any flirting that was possibly happening.

“Do you want him to flirt?” Johnny asks.

“We could eat him,” Paul whispers. The others just nod along since they’re not as chatty as these two.

“Uhh… yeah, I was kind of enjoying it,” I say. They glance at each other before giving a curt nod and separating.

“You may continue your flirting,” Johnny says.

“If you’re bad at it, we’ll probably feed you to the alligators in our moat,” Paul warns him.

Axton glances at me. “Is there a moat?”

“No, but would I seem cooler if there was one?” I ask. “It can be done.”

“I guess it’d make me want to come over to check out your castle again.”

“You can check out more than my castle,” I say with a wink a moment before Paul pulls me back by the collar of my shirt, which proceeds to choke me.

“Sylvan? Hey, Sylvan,” Paul whispers.

“What? I was getting a guy who knows that I frolic around with dead people to look at me!” I whisper back. “I don’t even think he’s judging me! So please tell me why you chose this very moment to interrupt!”

Paul’s eyebrow rises. “Well, would you rather me allow you two to finish and then get eaten by hellhounds, your bones licked clean, and then chewed on or warn you about the hellhounds?”

I hesitate and look over where three of the absolute largest dogs I’ve ever seen in my life are proceeding to crush Axton’s car.

“Looks like neither of us have cars now,” I say.

“Not the time,” Axton retorts as he steps into his battle stance. He’d look really cute with a witch’s hat but instead he’s just wearing standard clothes while standing next to a ferocious miniature horse that’s clearly out to fuck up shit as he rears, striking out as he does so.

“What are you doing?” I ask as the hellhounds grow closer. They’re the size of small horses, with large fangs like a sabretooth tiger and deep red fur. While not actually from hell, the color and size are what got them dubbed hellhounds. And really, does it matter where they came from?

“What am I doing? I’m destroying them before they destroy us,” he says.

I look at him in shock. “Why would you destroy them? What if someone came into your yard and looked at your horse and was like ‘Welp, might as well destroy it.’”

“I think this is a little bit different!” he protests.

I gasp as I look at the cute beasties making their way toward us.

“Those things are evil!”

“No, they’re not,” I say as I walk toward the three hellhounds. “Here’s the thing, Axton, people think I’m evil just because I’m a necromancer. You can’t judge anyone based on what they are or what they look like. I mean, yeah, some prestigious seer might have seen me murdering thousands of people, but that doesn’t make me into a bad guy. Here, pup pup.”

I hold out my hand as I walk toward the hellhounds.

“You a good boy? Who’s a good boy?” I ask as I click to them, and all three turn toward me. “See? You can’t just automatically assume they’re horrible when they seem perfectly⁠—”

Axton grabs me around the waist, tearing me back as the hellhound strikes, claws tearing right through a tree I’d been close to.

“What were you saying?” Axton asks as he holds me in his arms. If I hadn’t just nearly gotten my body cleanly severed in half, I might find it sexy. I might even grip his arm and comment how muscular he is, but instead, I find myself climbing out of his arms while yelling at my undead to take care of my dog problem. I run for the cover of the house as Axton races after me while my undead charge.

“I feel like you were quite convinced you were about to be a dog whisperer,” he says as he catches up with me.

“I’m going to be real honest. People have been terrified of me my entire life, so I actually don’t really know how to interact with things. I just try to assume that everyone will love me until proven otherwise, and I think I was proven otherwise,” I say as I reach the porch, but before I can grab for the door, Axton pulls me back.

“Shit, I forgot. The door has some kind of spell on it.”

“JOHNNY!” I yell and the biggest of the men comes rushing onto the scene. He doesn’t even take a moment to assess the situation before slamming his shoulder into the door, ripping it off its hinges. Axton shoves me inside before looking down at the corpse of his door.

“Do you… possibly think Johnny could have just opened the door? I mean… as a dead guy, the spell probably wouldn’t have done anything to him,” he says as Hades comes skidding in after us.

I stare at the drywall chunks and debris. “I mean… there’s the possibility he could have. Did he? That’s up for debate.”

“Which part is debatable?”

“I think we should go back to flirting. I was doing a phenomenal job. Like ‘Is it hot in here or is it just you?’”

“No… it’s extremely hot in here. Why is it so hot in here?”

“I didn’t even take my clothes off yet,” I say, then give him a wink before realizing that he’s not joking or flirting. It’s really fucking hot in here.

Both of us look around for what could be causing the sudden influx of temperature when I realize we’re standing right in the middle of some type of magic sigil.

“Please tell me you put that here,” I say as I point down a moment before the ground breaks and some strange type of vine comes crawling out. “Scratch that, please tell me you’re into tentacle porn!”

“They’re not even tentacles!” he cries as one wraps around his leg and yanks his foot out from under him, causing him to crash to the ground. Without skipping a beat, the vine starts hauling him off to the crack in the floor.

“Fuckity fuck fuck,” I mutter as I rush after him. Another comes for me but Hades, the trusty little steed he is, rears up and strikes at it with both front hooves. It retracts enough that I manage to reach Axton as he spits out magic that doesn’t seem to work against this sigil. It’s clear the person laid it with him in mind.

“JOHNNY!” I yell as I grab tightly onto Axton. “Axton, you better take me out on a date after this.”

“What? You mean this isn’t a fun date night activity?” he asks as another vine wraps around his leg while he thrashes and kicks. The hole that’s opened up is just enough for his body to fit through and the first part to enter is his feet because no matter how strong I’ve become reading books and playing video games with my undead pals… I’m not as strong as this vine monster.

Suddenly, I’m pulled back as Johnny and Paul rush onto the scene and grab Axton. With barely a heave and a pull, Johnny pulls him free as Paul slashes the vines and the sigil snaps, closing the portal to… who knows where.

“The others are dealing with the hounds, but Paul and I are here to save the day!” Johnny declares.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Axton says as he reaches back and freezes when he fully takes in Johnny. “W-Why are you naked?”

“Johnny is always stronger naked,” I explain.

“Is that what he tells you?” Axton asks, looking oddly disturbed.

Johnny gives him a smile and a thumbs-up. “Sylvan told me all men are strongest without clothes.”

I pretend like I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.

“You… did what?” Axton asks me.

“Oh my god. I was watching a movie and this actor came on who was trying to save this woman and I jokingly said that the clothes were slowing him down. I’m not creepy, I swear!”

“That’s to be determined,” Axton says as the extremely naked Johnny continues to drag him away from danger. “I feel like I’m in a very strange porno.”

“I kind of get ‘murder’ vibes, but if you’re getting porno vibes and are into our date, I’m not going to complain,” I say as Johnny finally drops him. I give Axton a hand, which he doesn’t hesitate to take even after my naked bodyguard helped him up!

I’ve become disgustingly used to anyone who’s alive avoiding me, disliking me, or not even wanting to touch me, but he literally took my hand! And as I realize that I haven’t let go of it, I also realize I’m smiling so wide that it has to be creeping him out.

“Sorry. I’m used to people refusing to touch me,” I explain.

He hesitates, giving me a look of concern. “Why?”’

“They think I’m creepy.”

Axton’s expression is oddly confused. “I guess that’s because they’re prejudiced assholes then because there’s nothing about you even remotely creepy.”

“Really? You don’t mind my undead army?” I ask, trying not to get too hopeful.

“I mean…”

He glances at the naked man, and then over at Paul who happens to be holding one of the wiggling cut-off vines in his hand.

“I don’t think you are creepy,” he says. I pretend I don’t notice the rather large emphasis on “you.”

“I vow to help you figure out who is trying to kill you! Hopefully before they succeed!”

“I’m also quite hopeful about that,” Axton mutters as he looks around, like something else might be waiting for him.

“It’s becoming quite clear to me that someone really wants you dead,” I say. “Johnny, what’s the status on the hellhounds?”

“The others are driving them off, sir,” he says. “But they broke my weapon and I’m in need of a new one.” He grabs one of the dining room chairs and breaks it over his knee. He holds out the chair leg and gives it a good swing before tossing it, clearly not satisfied even after destroying Axton’s chair. Then he picks up the front door and gives it a swing. “Ah yes. This will do nicely.”

“I am so sorry about your chair and door,” I whisper.

“Uh… it’s… not your fault?”

I hear a bit of a question in there, but he’s apparently still choosing to forgive me because he’s a wonderfully kind man! I’m quite lucky to have wound up with such a nice person.

Even though we’d banished the vine… monster(?), the ground seems to shake beneath us, telling me that it’s not quite over.

CHAPTER FIVE

AXTON

“Let’s just get out of here,” I say as I set a hand on the necromancer’s back and guide him toward the remains of the door—aka the giant hole in the wall. He gives me a huge smile and a nod, and I find that I can’t help but smile back. How could anyone ever possibly dislike this man or think ill of him? Not only does he look like the nicest man, he acts like it.

“Okay!” Sylvan says.

“I’m really sorry for getting you caught up in this. I thought I was just going to have you get a few words from the dead guy and go on our merry way,” I admit.

“That’s okay! I was really bored and about to wash away my sorrows in kittens,” he admits.

“What happened?”

Sylvan looks a bit embarrassed as I usher him out onto the porch. “Just… people thinking I’m weird. I mean… do I look that weird?” He steps in front of Johnny like he thinks he can use his body to shield the giant of a man who is still quite naked while the other man is reaching out to touch my hair. But I pretend like not even that creeps me out.

“Paul, stop! People don’t like you petting them! We’ve been over this!” he orders.

“I was simply seeing if I liked his skin,” he says, which… was that supposed to make me feel better?

“Paul sold cosmetics when he was alive. I know he makes his skin care sound creepier than it is. But he really does know his stuff. I mean… look at my face,” Sylvan says as he waves to it.

“It is a pretty nice face,” I agree, and he blushes. If I weren’t currently in the process of being hunted, I would see if he had plans for dinner. At this rate… I’m not even sure if I’ll be alive for dinner.

“Since your car is ruined… let’s take the police car. But first we need a key,” Sylvan says, looking far too excited as he waves his minions at the frozen police officers. Without missing a beat, they start patting them down as they hunt for keys. Johnny is too vigorous and knocks an officer over, but Sylvan just keeps smiling like he didn’t notice at all.

“FOUND THEM!” Paul declares before throwing them. His throw is so bad that he pelts my assistant Ricky right in the face.

“Fuck!” Ricky blurts out as he stumbles back from his petrified position and looks me right in the eyes. He tries to pretend he’s still petrified, but when he sees the look on my face and the hulking undead, he turns and starts running. “I’m sorry! It wasn’t my idea!”

I can’t believe this. Was Ricky seriously part of this? “You… You were involved in trying to get me killed? I literally just gave you a two-hundred-dollar gift card as thanks for helping me out!”

“I know and it made me feel really guilty!” he calls as he picks up the pace while I rush toward him.

“Yet you still took it!”

Sylvan catches up to me and sets a hand on my chest. “There’s no need for you to do anything but just sit back and let my people handle this,” he says as I watch Johnny wing the door like a fucking frisbee. It smashes into the back of Ricky and flattens him as the undead laugh like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever seen.

“Well… I guess… that’s… one way to do it,” I say. I don’t even have to rush over to grab Ricky because the necromancer’s crew peels him up off the ground and carries him over to us.

Surrounded by two of the meanest-looking people I’ve ever seen, Ricky cowers. “I swear I had no idea that she was going to toss a body in the front yard, but at that point, I was in too deep,” he whines.

“If you thought you were in too deep before, you don’t want to know how deep you’re in now,” Sylvan says as he holds a hand out. At first, I’m confused until I turn to see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen walking toward us. “She’ll get us answers.”

“Just tell me who has been a bad boy, and I’ll make them talk,” she purrs.

What… is happening?

“Thanks,” Sylvan says with a huge smile as the stunning woman starts toward Ricky.

“I’ve been meaning to ask… how are all of your undead so… full of life?” I ask.

Sylvan gives me the biggest smile ever. “You noticed? Thank you… Most people only notice that they’re dead. I trained really hard when I was young to restore them when I call them. When I was a child and my father would summon the dead, they often looked like they’d been dead a while and I didn’t like how they’d get upset when they looked at themselves. So I vowed to make it so they never looked at themselves in disgust.”

How the hell is this “awful man” so sweet?

“Is this a joke?” Ricky asks a moment before the woman steps up to him and leans in. She doesn’t even touch him, she merely whispers something in his ear. Something that makes him turn pale before looking right at me. “I’m so sorry! Danielle did it! It’s her!”

“What the hell did she say to him?” I ask.

“I have no idea! She gets everyone to talk immediately, and no one has ever told me what she says no matter how much I bribe!”

She walks back over to Sylvan and grabs the front of his robes so she can pull him in and squeeze him to her. “That’s because you don’t ever need to know,” she says before kissing his cheek. “You’re too sweet to know.”

“I’m really not! This one time I was at the store using the self-checkout, and I accidentally threw something in the bag without scanning it. I didn’t realize it until I got home but I never took it back and paid for it!” he says.

She pats his head before noticing me. “Oh, hello?”

“Hi?”

“Cupid said we’re soulmates!” Sylvan announces.

Her kind expression immediately plummets as she lets go of him and struts up to me. Even though she’s a shorter woman, about five foot five, she has some presence and I find myself weirdly anxious before realizing that she is a succubus. No wonder she’s able to get people to admit to anything.

“You better be good to my sweetie,” she says.

“I… I will!” I declare. I’m not even sure I know what’s going on at this point.

“Don’t mind her. She’s like a mother hen, always worried about what I’m doing. Sooo, Danielle… as in…”

I deflate a little at that question. “Yep, that seer.”

“Oh.”

“And my ex-girlfriend.”

“Ohhhhhhh.”

I grimace.

“To the police car!” he announces without missing a beat. On the way to it, I notice a newcomer hop into the front seat who Sylvan tosses the keys to. “Do you want front or back?”

“Uh… yeah, you can have front,” I say, horribly confused by another newcomer, but there I am, getting into the back seat, innocently not expecting a naked giant to squeeze in on my left and a creepy borderline serial killer on my right.

“Wait! We forgot your familiar!” Sylvan exclaims.

“He’ll be fine here while we’re⁠—”

“I got him,” the creepy guy says as he picks up the miniature horse and stuffs him into the back seat with us. Hades steps on me before finding a spot on the floor so we have absolutely no room for our legs. And before I try to argue that the horse is fine at home, the driver takes off.

I debate insisting that we switch seats, but Sylvan looks so happy I’m willing to accept his eccentric crew that I don’t have the heart to tell him that I don’t know what the fuck is happening.

“Janie is a race car driver,” he explains as sirens are switched on while we’re whipped out of the driveway, causing my head to snap back.

“Christ,” I whisper as we fly down the street while I question all of my life choices. “I could have driven.”

“That’s okay! Janie likes to drive. She’s really good too!”

“How… how did she die?” I ask, highly concerned for my life. “Was that rude?”

“Nah. She…” Sylvan hesitates before smiling again. “So… the weather is nice.”

Ah ha ha… I’m going to die. “It… is. Really, I can drive.”

“So… I know this hasn’t really been the most normal of meetings, but do you think you want to go out with me? You really don’t have to. I was just thinking that we could do dinner and a movie or something. But don’t push yourself! Don’t do it out of some sense of obligation or something! I’ll still help you with this even if you have no interest at all.” Sylvan looks so adorably embarrassed as he asks me this.

He’s too sweet for this world. How has no one snatched him up yet? “I would like that. Let’s get through this mess and make a date night plan. What about tomorrow?”

Sylvan smiles at me and nods. “Let me check my schedule…”

“I think you have a haircut a month from now,” I tease.

His grin widens. “Right. So I guess I’ll be able to slide you into the busy schedule. I’ll make room because it’s you—oh my god, Janie! Yellow doesn’t mean speed up! We’ve been over this!”

“I’m colorblind,” she declares.

“You still know where the light is!” he says. “Don’t mind her.”

I’m really minding her because she’s probably going to get us killed. But damn do we roll up to the seer’s office in no time. “Roll up” as in jumping the curb and coming to a stop with the car up on the sidewalk so close to the glass window that I’m not sure I could have slid a playing card between the bumper and the window. The two men’s bulging muscles kept me from flailing all about, but I really wish the one would find some pants, especially when my hand ends up on his lap in an attempt to steady myself.

“Janie, I can’t get my door open, you’re too close to the building,” Sylvan says as he tries to get out.

“I’ll get it for you,” Paul offers before motioning to Johnny who shoves open the back door even though it’d clearly been locked. He climbs out and instead of opening Sylvan’s door for him, he drags the car off the sidewalk like that was easier than just backing the car up.

“Don’t mind them,” Sylvan says as he gets out. I try not to “mind them” as I follow. Johnny is now holding the car door as a weapon as he gets the seer’s office door for us… you know, the gentlemanly thing to do. I step in first and look over at the woman who smiles before freezing. She covers up the look unbelievably fast.

“Hey, Axton, what are you doing here? I was just coming to see what that odd noise was and…” Danielle hesitates when she sees Sylvan. “You’re that necromancer.”

Sylvan doesn’t hesitate to say, “Yes, the one who slaughters thousands. I’m here to tell you I’m starting with number one.” His usually joyful expression is pulled tight as he narrows his eyes at her.

She’s quite alarmed by this. “A-Axton, why would you bring him here knowing what he is destined to do?”

“Why did you put a dead body in my front yard and turn my assistant against me? Then try to kill me with hellhounds and plant a vine… thing in my house?” I growl.

Danielle gives me an innocent look, like she has no idea what I’m saying. “Are you confused? You can’t possibly be talking to me.”

“I’m sure as hell talking to you,” I say. “Ricky told me everything.”

“You ever think about the possibility of Ricky lying to you?” she asks.

“Why would you do this?” I ask.

Danielle scowls at me, like she’s annoyed I won’t listen. “Because you’re an asshole who gets everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“What? Don’t even get me started. You cheated on me. You were manipulative and used your ability to sneak around. And then you were pissed when I figured out what was going on, so now you’re going to kill me?”

“I wasn’t going to kill you. I was simply… going to scare you a little before swooping in and saving the day,” she says nonchalantly. “And then you run right for that man instead. The man who is going to be a murderer!”

“He’s done nothing wrong,” I snap.

Sylvan steps toward her. “I know all your visions are right, but I really would never kill anyone.”

The vision made him out to be such a horrible man, but unless he’s doing a phenomenal job tricking me, I can’t fathom him hurting anyone, let alone killing thousands. And it’s not like he doesn’t have a good handle on his magic; the man is extremely talented. Could he possibly summon a killer he can’t control or… or wait. What if…

No… no, that’s not possible. People have tried arresting him, imprisoning him… killing him over this…

“Danielle, did you… did you lie about Sylvan because you had a vision with the two of us together?” I ask, positive this has to be wrong.

The flicker of surprise on Danielle’s face startles me. It was the absolute last thing I ever imagined I’d see. I can’t fathom such a thing, even from her.

“You… lied?” Sylvan asks. “You… you’ve made my life a literal hell. People have gotten hurt trying to kill me. I was arrested and harassed and nearly run out of this city, and all because you’re a jealous bitch?”

She grits her teeth before hissing, “He is not yours!”

“No, he’s not! He’s not yours either! He doesn’t belong to anyone and can make his own decisions on who to be with. And I can make my own decision about what should be done with you,” he says, eyes narrowed.

Danielle, who has absolutely no way to defend herself, takes a look at the big bodyguards behind Sylvan and even at Hades who is looking extra sassy as he rears up—especially because he never liked her. She rushes out the door, but Sylvan casually follows her and I soon see why as I come to a stop and take it all in.

There are hundreds of undead standing right outside the door. There’s absolutely nowhere for her to go as they keep her boxed in.

“Danielle, you’re going to undo what you did to everyone and then you’re going to confess everything to the police. If not, I’ll let Sylvan do whatever he’s planning on doing to you,” I warn her.

“It wasn’t going to hurt anyone,” she growls. “You’re making this all out to be worse than it is!”

“I am?” I ask in disbelief. “Are you seriously going to look me in the eyes and tell me that after all the shit you just did?”

“I can torture her into understanding how fucked up this was,” Sylvan says, eyes narrowed as I realize that the man can clearly hold his own. I mean… I’m not actually sure he knows how to fight, but why would he when he has literally hundreds of undead ready to tear a single woman apart for him?

“I’ve always wanted to dissect someone,” Paul says.

Sylvan hesitates. “Paul, stop, you’re just creepy.”

“I thought we were threatening her! You’re so picky.”

Danielle doesn’t seem to be finished as she waves her hand.

“I think she just signaled to someone,” I warn Sylvan as I see a mage step onto the scene from just beyond the undead. I can’t help but wonder if this is the person who inflicted the petrification on the police officers as well as the magic on my house. If he is, then he’s clearly no joke, so I grab for Sylvan in an attempt to pull him back as the man lifts his staff and is immediately pummeled to the ground by about fifty undead.

“If someone gets me a chair, I can kick back and do this all day,” Sylvan announces.

“I’ll get the chair!” Johnny shouts.

“No! Johnny, I was just saying it to sound cool.”

“You want me to threaten her with the chair. Got it,” he says as I watch him reach into the police car and tear the passenger seat right out of the vehicle before holding it like a tool of bludgeoning.

When I look at Sylvan, he has his eyes closed, like if he doesn’t see what’s happening, he can pretend it’s not happening at all.

“Fine! I’ll fix everything,” Danielle says through clenched teeth.

“And publicly announce that Sylvan isn’t going to kill thousands. That you lied,” I demand.

“You would ruin me?” she cries, like she could possibly think I’d be like “Nah, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“You had no issue ruining others. You literally put a dead body in my yard,” I remind her.

“He was already dead!”

How did I date this woman? We dated for all of a month before I realized how controlling and manipulative she was. After that, I thought I’d made it quite clear that I wasn’t interested in her.

Because of the giant ruckus we’ve created, the police show up to handle the situation. They have to wade through the undead to even reach us, but I know them quite well from my time working as a hero.

Sylvan just slinks off into his group, like he doesn’t want to be a part of this, and I don’t blame him. He hasn’t exactly been treated the kindest. So I wait until I’m done explaining to them how to unpetrify the people at my house before wandering into the group of undead. I’m not quite sure where to go, but the crowd splits, leading me right to Sylvan.

“Hey,” I say.

“Let me guess, they still think I’m the bad guy,” he mutters, eyes down.

“No, they actually wanted me to tell you that they said thank you for helping them.”

He slowly looks up at me. “You’re just saying that.”

“I most definitely am not. They wanted to tell you face-to-face, but they didn’t know where you went.”

“Do they still think I’m going to kill all those people?” Sylvan asks, and I find myself wanting to comfort him.

“No. She admitted it was a lie. I’m really sorry. This is all my fault. I… the moment I knew she was manipulative, I broke up with her. But weird things have been happening lately and I’m starting to realize that she must have been stalking me and trying to make my life hell in an attempt to get me to go back to her.”

“It was awful of her… but does make me feel happy that… she saw us together. I know that’s weird because we barely know each other! But like…” His blush reaches his pointed ears, and I can’t help but smile at how cute it is.

“Yeah, that does take out some of the uncertainty, and so does Cupid. I guess she was useful for something. I would love to take you out to dinner tonight, but I should probably deal with everything going on. And like… getting a new car… and putting a front door on my house. But could I pick you up tomorrow for dinner?”

“I’d love that!”

“Do I have to bust down your gate again and battle off your hordes of undead?”

“Depends if you’re late,” Sylvan says with a grin. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Do you need someone to drive you home?”

“No, my car is waiting,” he says as he points to where his race car driver is already waiting for him. With a gesture of his hand, all the undead sink back into the earth until they’re called for again.

Waving goodbye, I watch him get into the car and the woman speed off before questioning where the hell she got the car from. I thought his was missing.

I try to pretend like she found his missing car as Hades steps up beside me.

“Hey, buddy,” I say as I pat his fluffy forelock. “Can’t say that’s how I saw today going… but I’m glad you like him. You definitely have a better eye for decent people than I do. Let’s go fix this mess, I guess.”

He stomps his hoof, probably displeased that he didn’t get to kick Danielle… I might be too.

CHAPTER SIX

SYLVAN

“Do I look too excited? I think I’m going to scare him away,” I say.

“Look at it this way. The seer and Cupid foresaw you two together, so no matter what you do, you can’t fuck up the future, can you?” Hank asks.

“Oh… no, I totally could,” I assure him as I stare out the window. At five till six, Axton pulls into the driveway, so I hurry out to meet him. When I get into his new car, I can’t help but smile at him.

“I was terrified I was going to be late since you said I would have to battle my way to the front door if I was,” he teases. “I can’t fight as well in these clothes. Not much moveability.”

“You’re looking pretty handsome so I might have let you off… especially if you’d done a striptease for me or something.”

Axton quirks an eyebrow. “Well, I’m glad to hear that’s all I had to do.” He grins as he reverses out of the driveway. Hades is in the back, so I have to scratch his neck, which he leans into.

“Did you get everything figured out? Oh… and a new door?”

“I did. The mage set a spell that was supposed to petrify me, and then Danielle was going to swoop in and save me and in turn… I would fall in love with her? But when that didn’t work, the mage laid other traps that she was going to ‘save me from.’ And she decided what better way to make sure I didn’t end up with you than to have Ricky send me your way and make it seem like you were the cause, but I guess she didn’t realize how helpful you were going to be. She had someone who was going to teleport her there right when I needed to be saved. But when you immediately went to work helping me, it messed everything up. Some of the details are a little sketchy.”

“What about the dead body?” I ask.

“The mage stole it from the morgue. It was used to get you there and was supposed to have a trap on it to control you when you touched it.”

“Oh, I don’t need to touch bodies to bring them back to life.”

“She clearly didn’t know that. Sorry we didn’t meet on better terms.”

“It’s okay! I was actually pretty down yesterday since nothing ever seems to go right, so I was just happy to get out and do something. Even something like that.”

He returns my smile. “You were a big help. And your magic is very impressive.”

I look at him in surprise. Most people are creeped out by it, and he’s over here feeling impressed?

Axton continues, “I’m sure you know that my family belongs to a group of mercenary heroes, right? What I’m saying is that if you ever got bored and wanted to join me, I think you’d do a lot of good. It’s impressive how quickly you get everything done.”

I watch him for a moment as I try to process what he’s just said.

He glances at me. “Did I overstep?”

“No, of course not. Just… people don’t want necromancers for hero work,” I explain. “I mean, they expect that a beautiful witch, like yourself, will save them. Not some undead. Imagine how horrified they’d be!” I try to laugh it off, like this doesn’t bother me.

“They might think they wouldn’t, but let me tell you something. When these people are being saved or protected… they’re just happy that at the end of the day they get to go home to those they love. Just think about it.”

“I would like that,” I admit. “I’d like to help people.”

Axton gives me such a warm smile that I feel ridiculously happy, like I’m caught up in some type of fairy tale. How ridiculous.

“Just… maybe make sure the first person they see isn’t Paul.”

That makes me laugh. “I very much agree.”

He pulls into the parking lot of a nice hibachi grill and finds a parking spot even though the place is packed.

“I’ve always wanted to go here,” I enthuse.

“Well, I’m glad I get to take you, then,” Axton says as he leads me inside. He even has a reservation set up for us to eat on the patio.

Last night, I’d felt fear that when he picked me up today, he would realize that necromancers were something to fear and would treat me differently. But the whole dinner, he asks me about myself, and I can tell he really cares. Every time I try to swing the conversation over to him, he’s insistent that hearing about me is far more interesting. And while I know the seer and Cupid had already told me that this man was fated to be with me, nothing solidifies it more than having him in front of me making me laugh and smile and enjoy every moment of it.

* * *

I had such a wonderful time that I find I don’t want to let Axton go as he pulls into the driveway. I would normally never fathom asking a man inside on the first date, but knowing that Axton is my fated soulmate makes all the guesswork and anxiety fly out the window. So as he puts the car in park, I look over at him.

“Would… you want to come inside? We could watch a movie… or something,” I offer.

He smiles and shuts the car off. “I’d love to.”

While Hades wanders off to scout out the yard, I lead Axton inside where I wasn’t expecting a gathering at the front door.

“Uh…” I mutter as I look at the undead eagerly inspecting us.

It’s like they all start talking at once with:

“How did it go?”

“Did you have fun?”

“Did you play hard to get like I told you to?”

The barrage of questions leaves me uncertain for a moment until Axton goes, “We had a phenomenal time. The food was delicious, and I had top-notch company.”

“Sylvan, I bought you condoms and lube since the only ones you had were hella old,” Hank says as he holds them up to make sure everyone sees.

“Oh my god. Go!” I yell and everyone disappears until I summon them at a later time. All that’s left are the condoms and lube that Hank dropped. I swear he cackled as I unsummoned him.

“I like them,” Axton says, breaking the silence.

“I’m so embarrassed,” I whisper.

“They seem fun.”

“Nooo, they’re not. They torture me for fun. It’s fun for them. Not as much for me,” I mutter.

I decide that I won’t face him ever again out of pure embarrassment until he wraps his arms around me and turns me around.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed. I got a kick out of it.”

“You promise you don’t think I’m weird?”

Axton tips up my chin as he gives me a warm smile. “I super promise,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss me. His lips are gentle against mine as I press up against him, like he’s making sure this is what I want, but he doesn’t have to make sure of anything because I’m here for every moment of it.

When he pulls back from the kiss to smile down at me, I say, “So I know I have an amazing castle that makes me look super cool, but do you know what’s even cooler?”

“I don’t know. All of this is quite ‘cool.’”

“My bedroom. Let me show you,” I say as I give him my best “come-hither” look. I’m not sure if I actually succeed because he tries to hide his grin.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

“This is usually where I have my minions carry me to my bedroom, but since I unsummoned them, I suppose I’ll use my own feet,” I joke.

“Do you ever have to do anything?”

“No. I simply snap my fingers, summon whoever I need to accomplish the task at hand and then shower them with praise when they’re done.”

“Do they ever mind being summoned?” he asks curiously.

“I always ask them the first time I summon them. Some don’t want to be. Others love it. Everyone has their preference.”

“You’re quite sweet.”

“Not really. I’m big, bad, and ferocious.”

“So ferocious,” he says with a grin.

“Thanks!” I reach back and take his hand as I tug him up the stairs. “There are exciting things to see. Like, umm…” I guide him into my bedroom and wave at a painting. “I raised a famous painter from the dead to paint me something original. Do you like?”

Axton scrutinizes it while trying to come up with an answer to that. “Oh… it’s very… different.”

“Thanks. I later realized that I accidentally raised the wrong man, and he didn’t know how to paint, but I still thought it was quirky and kept it.”

“I just can’t imagine all the stories you have about your life.”

“And this is my bed. The blanket at the foot of the bed is made of alpaca fiber. I was not… aware the lady I summoned had shaved the neighbors’ alpacas in the middle of the night, so there I was wound up in this fun new blanket when the neighbors came to see if I knew what happened to their alpacas’ fiber. I was so horrified and embarrassed.”

“Well, you got a nice blanket.”

“Thanks,” I say as I step into him and wrap my arms around his neck to pull him in for another kiss.

He’s so tantalizing as he draws me in, his hand sliding up my back, bare fingers running over my skin. Every touch sends desire racing through me, making me shiver beneath his fingers. His hand moves up my back, pulling my shirt with it before he tugs it over my head to drop it on the ground. My fingers dip under the band of his pants, teasing my way up his stomach and chest. He slips out of the shirt so I can run my hands over his skin.

His hands slide down over my ass before picking me up. “Since you’re not used to walking anywhere, I might as well carry you.”

Grinning, I wrap my arms around him as he carries me over to the bed. He sets me down on it before settling between my legs. I say, “I feel like a prince.”

“Well… you do have your own castle.”

“My grandfather won it in a bet!”

“Your whole life is just fascinating.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the fascinating one. You’re like a hero… and you have these abs. I mean… look at these fascinating abs,” I say as I run my fingers over them before smacking my own stomach. “If I want abs, I just summon someone to paint them on for me.”

“You’re absolutely beautiful the way you are,” Axton assures me as he gives my chest a gentle push to encourage me to lie back. Then he hovers over me with heated eyes. “You are absolutely delightful and sexy and sweet.”

“You’re going to make me blush.”

“You’re already blushing,” he says as he kisses my neck before his mouth finds my nipple which he swirls his tongue around while his hands work at my pants. He unbuttons them, pulling my black jeans off to leave behind only my underwear. Axton scoots down the bed, glancing up at me as his hands draw a line down my sensitive skin before he reaches my cock, cupping it. I can feel his breath on my inner thigh, eyes searching mine as I watch him mouth my cock through my underwear. It’s so fucking sexy that I feel almost hypnotized by him.

Sliding my underwear down, he reveals my cock, his hand immediately stroking me as he grabs the lube Hank has bought me. He pops open the lid and squeezes some onto his finger before his tongue swirls around the head of my cock.

I moan as his hot breath envelops me, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of him sliding down my length as his finger rubs my hole. His finger pushes inside me, stroking and teasing as his tongue works around me. It all feels so good and I find myself aching for more of him. All of him.

He’s gentle, though, carefully adding another finger even when I’m ready for him to push me down and fuck me.

When the excitement gets to be too much, I reach down and tug him toward me. “I want more,” I admit.

Axton pulls his fingers out of me and quickly pushes his pants down, freeing his large cock. I draw him to me as I eagerly grab the condom and lube. I roll the condom down his thick cock before squirting lube onto my hand so I can run it over his length. The moan I’m greeted with excites me even more.

It’s weird how even though it’s our first time, I feel so comfortable with him. I just find myself wanting to learn more about what he likes and what makes him ache for release. I hook my legs around him, pulling him in close until I feel his hard cock brush against my ass.

The tip brushes against my hole before settling against it as he pushes himself into me. He guides himself inside me, filling me up as his hand strokes my cock.

Axton rocks into me before stilling for a moment so he can kiss me. “Are you good?”

“Yes. Definitely,” I assure him.

He draws out just a little before sliding back in. I moan as he begins to thrust inside me, picking up a pace that causes pleasure to rush through me. The way he touches me… the way he moves… it’s like he already knows the exact spots and ways to make heat rise inside me.

I always thought I’d end up alone with my undead. How did I get so lucky? How did my life turn around in the span of one day and a simple message from Cupid?

Axton strokes my cock until I can’t take any more, ecstasy washing through me as I come. Still gripping my cock, he rocks his hips, coming inside me with a groan. His lips find mine, crashing against them as pleasure ripples through us.

Breath heavy, he pulls out of me and takes the condom off before tossing it in the trash by my bed.

I push him down and roll on top of him so I can kiss his lips and hold tightly onto him while his hand cups my ass, pulling me in closer.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he says as he pushes my hair back out of my face. “Do you think I could take you out again tomorrow?”

“I’ll need to check my schedule,” I tease.

EPILOGUE

SYLVAN

One year later

“Tell me the deets,” I say.

“The what?” Axton asks.

“Details. I’m here to save the day,” I announce as I step onto the scene. The police officers see me and immediately step back. Not because they’re afraid of me, but to give my mini army the space they need.

Axton gives me a warm smile. “I know you are. So there are two men inside with five hostages. We need to be careful because we know for a fact that the two men have killed multiple people but have eluded capture.”

“Nearly killed a few of our men last time we cornered them,” an officer adds.

“So we need to use precaution and⁠—”

“WE GOT THEM!” Johnny yells as he comes running out in the nude, holding a rather large man in his arms while Paul drags the two killers out through the front door.

“Good job!” I say with a smile as Paul tosses the men over to the police. The policemen—being regular humans—are flung backward, nearly flattened by the unconscious bodies of the perps.

“If you don’t have plans for them, I can dice them up for you,” Paul informs the officers.

“N-No, we’re good. Thank you.”

“You are the most welcome!” Johnny booms as he sets the large man who must have been one of the hostages on his feet. “And you, my friend, are free to go!”

“T-Thank you?” the man says, clearly uncertain.

“Alright, where’s the real issue?” Johnny asks. “I was told this one would be a hard one.”

“No, no, you got them,” Axton says.

Johnny and Paul are both quite surprised, as are the fifty undead who’d been ready to help and got to do absolutely nothing.

A woman whose daughter had been held hostage inside rushes over to me. “Thank you.”

“Oh! It’s no problem at all.”

“No, thank you… thank you so much,” she says as she hugs me.

It doesn’t matter how many times I’m thanked; I’m not ever sure I’ll get used to it. It’s such a good feeling being appreciated instead of feared.

“We’d love to stay but we need to get going,” Axton says. “Come on, Sylvan.”

I unsummon my lovely crew and hurry after him as we get into his car. He refused to tell me where we’re going, but I’m sure I’ll love it.

When we reach the park, he pulls over and lets Hades out. The miniature horse immediately trots off to find something or someone to harass.

“It’s such a nice day out.”

“It is,” Axton says as he takes my hand, sliding his fingers between mine as he leads the way.

“Why didn’t you tell me we were going to the park?” I ask, unsure why it was so secretive.

“Because I have a whole day planned. A mystery day.”

“Ooh, I’m here for this,” I say as I watch Hades stomp on some child’s ball. The child seems mystified as Axton yells at him to stop.

“He’s just always into something,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, but he’s cute so everyone lets him get away with it,” I say.

“No one lets me get away with anything. I swear your crew watches me like a hawk, just waiting for me to mess up so they can swoop down.”

I grin at him. “You don’t have to worry,” I assure him. “They know I love you.”

The moment he hears that, he’s all smiles, but I can tell something’s up. Almost like he’s distracted by something.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He glances over at me. “With?”

“You seem to be worried about something.”

“Oh, just thinking about how the light shimmers off your flawless skin⁠—”

“You’re such a lying dork,” I decide.

“I was thinking about how your blue shirt brightens your impeccable eyeballs.”

“It’s getting worse,” I tease.

“And how you never untie your shoes but simply cram your feet into them.”

“That’s the only way to do it.”

“And how you laughed at me after I tripped yesterday.”

“I made sure you were okay first! But you can’t be mad… you were waving your arms like you were trying to take flight!” I say, trying not to grin at the memory before failing. “It’s okay, though, Johnny was there to catch you.”

“While naked. I think I’ve seen his dick more than yours.”

I chuckle. “What can I say, he’s like an ancient warrior who fought naked back in his time.”

“Is that true?”

“No. He was an accountant who hated clothes.”

That makes Axton laugh. “No, no, you’re lying.”

“I’m not! Ask him next time. He’s not only my brawn but the very reason I didn’t fail math in high school.”

He shakes his head as we round a bend in the path that leads to my favorite part of the park. There’s a large pond with two swans who are always together—mated for life—but today I only see one.

“Where’s the male?” I ask.

Axton glances around and shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“I hope something didn’t happen to him,” I say, but I’ve always been drawn to death and know all too soon that the female is standing next to the body of the male.

“You think a dog got him?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” I respond as I look at the female who isn’t ready to leave him behind. I’m sure she assumed they’d always be together.

I hold my hand out and let my magic fall over him. The female starts as life returns to her mate and he stands up. He ruffles his feathers and I watch the two of them rush off into the water together.

“Will he be able to stay like that?” Axton asks.

“If I visit them enough, he’ll be fine,” I say. “But this is our secret. I shouldn’t mess with the fate of things but just a little bit won’t hurt.”

I stand up and turn to him as he gives me a smile. “You’re so sweet.”

“No, I’m just…” I shrug.

“You’re just impossibly sweet,” he insists as he runs his finger over my cheek.

“It was a little thing.”

“Not to them.”

“Hmm…”

Axton tips my chin up and kisses me. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Depends… is it a scary secret? Because I still hold true to my dating app. I don’t date serial killers.”

He laughs as he shakes his head. “Definitely haven’t killed anyone lately.”

“Oh phew!”

“So, when Danielle got arrested, she confessed what her vision really was.”

“Oh?”

“It was this very day, the two of us standing right in front of this pond. The two swans behind us and me asking you to marry me.”

I freeze as I look at him in surprise. “W-What?”

Axton pushes my white hair behind my ear. “So? Sylvan, will you marry me?”

“T-That… I… yes! Of course!”

The smile on his face makes my heart beat out of control as he slides the ring onto my finger and pulls me in close. I don’t even get to admire it before he kisses me, and I feel the tension in his body. I can’t believe that even knowing what would happen an entire year in advance, he would still be so nervous.

I lean back and smile at him, arms draped around his neck. “You really knew about this day for a year?”

“I did.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

Axton grins at me. “I didn’t want to spoil the reveal.”

“You are so delightful and amazing and lovely and sweet and kind.”

“You forgot lucky. I’m pretty sure I’m the luckiest man alive to have met you.”

I can’t stop smiling.

“If we have to invite your whole side of the family and my side… we’re going to need someplace huge.”

“At least my side doesn’t eat,” I tease.

“My sister’s already asked if Johnny will be wearing clothes. I think she enjoys the view.”

“Oh no…” I mutter, which makes him laugh.

“She said she wants to dance with him too.”

“I think we need to force Johnny to wear clothes,” I say as I admire the ring. “I love it. All of it. Every part of it. Every part of you.”

“And nothing could make me happier than knowing I get to spend my life with you,” Axton responds.

For so many years I felt so alone, even when surrounded by my group because while they could support me and care about me, I always felt that I had to bring them back to life to get that love. I never knew that I’d eventually find someone who cares about me for who I am, no strings attached.

“You’ve made me feel like the luckiest man in the world,” I say. “Thank you.”

“You never need to thank me. You know who we should thank?”

“Hmm?”

“Danielle,” he says.

I grin at him. “That is evil. Should we invite her to the wedding?”

“She could be the maid of honor.”

I cackle at the idea. “Are we actually evil people?”

“If we are, I don’t see the issue,” Axton says as he slides his fingers between mine and starts walking as we talk about every aspect of our wedding and our life and how lucky we are to have Cupid on our side.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ALICE WINTERS

Alice Winters started writing stories as soon as she was old enough to turn her ideas into written words. She loves writing a variety of things from romance and comedy to action. She also enjoys reading, horseback riding, and spending time with her pets.

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HOT DATE

ELIOT GRAYSON

CHAPTER ONE

Everyone always thought pain was the worst part of a migraine.

That is, if they even believed migraines were real. The idea that literal head pain was just figuratively in the sufferer’s head was a lot more widespread than I’d have believed without proof.

Proof like my ex-boyfriend, whose voice was almost more grating over the phone than it had been in person during the year I’d wasted trying to live up to his expectations. It’d taken me that long to figure out that he couldn’t live up to mine, either, no matter how moderate I kept them.

“It’s seventy-five degrees out, David,” he said—shouted—into my ear, and I winced, panting through the wave of nausea brought on by the spike of pain. “No one could possibly be cold. I’m not going through all my stuff today, I’m busy. Suck it up. Use some willpower, gods.”

Willpower. Yes, of course. I counted down from five. Four, three, two, one…

“Men don’t feel pain they don’t want to feel,” he said, right on cue. “It’s biological. So like, go to your therapist, or something. I don’t even know what fucking heating pad you’re talking about, okay? Just buy one or something. I have to go.”

“Hello? Kenny? Please don’t—damn it,” I moaned, moaning again when the first moan sent a throb through my right eye, slumping down into the couch with a final, hopeless whimper.

Gods, I was like those knights in the Monty Python movie who kept saying the word that hurt them over and over again, until they were caught in an infinite feedback loop of screaming and flailing and covering their ears.

Except that for me it was moaning.

And calling my ex.

The heating pad. Ugh. I curled into a shivering ball, dropping the phone on the coffee table next to the couch and wrapping my arm around my head. Migraines made me so cold. The pain was seriously the least of it, even though that sucked giant swinging balls, too. It was the shivers. The queasy tilting of my stomach.

What had possessed me to think that Kenny would a) remember that we’d owned a heating pad when we lived together, b) try to find it in the stuff he’d taken from our closet without my permission, or c) spend thirty seconds of his day thinking about someone other than himself? Maybe if the heating pad had come equipped with a mirror, a set of weights, and a flirty personal trainer named Scotty, it’d have been of some mild interest to him.

Kenny and Scotty. They probably didn’t need a heating pad at all in their migraine-free, perfectly fit and toned existence, unless it was useful for muscle aches from too much lifting.

Or no, sorry. Men didn’t feel pain unless we wanted to.

And yet they couldn’t bother to give the stupid heating pad back to me.

Buy one. Thanks a million. I’d never have thought of that on my own.

As if I could leave the house like this. Someplace might have one available for delivery, but it’d hurt too much to try to use the app I had for groceries and stuff. Looking at my phone was agony when the headache had really gotten its claws into me, and anyway, my vision blurred too much.

It made me weepy, too. Not always. But this one was turning into a real tear-jerker.

Like, how had I not known Kenny was cheating on me? When he’d been turning me down for sex for—well, most of our relationship, actually. And when he spent four hours a day “at the gym”? Although sadly, they were such gym rats that they probably were at the gym most of the time rather than having sex at Scotty’s place.

Tears trickled down the side of my nose and spread all wet and slimy over my cheek, sticking it to the tweedy fabric of the couch cushion and sticking strands of my overlong blond hair to both.

I could do better than Kenny, right? Of course I could. Not that I had either before or after, or anything. I had no idea why we’d been dating in the first place except that he’d suggested I blow him when we were standing near the same bar, and then we’d kind of kept hanging out, and eventually moved in together, because we both liked action movies and me blowing him. Also, his lease had expired.

But any second now, a better guy would come along, maybe through that app I’d signed up for in a fit of melancholy and sexual frustration a couple of weeks ago. It promised Cupid himself would find me a perfect match.

Sure. Like an actual god would take an interest in my lack-of-love life.

After hours, or maybe an eternity of shivering on the couch and crying, I lapsed into something like unconsciousness.

When I woke, I blinked into blurry gloom. Somehow night had fallen. Light from the walkway outside my apartment shone in through the gaps in the vertical blinds, letting me see slivers of my living room. I fumbled for my phone and squinted in the sudden glare of the screen. Nearly eleven, which meant I’d been out for…a bunch of hours. Who fucking cared.

The throbbing had died down to a sullen, lurking echo of my previous misery, but I knew from experience that one wrong move would have it roaring back. Moving like a creaky geriatric, I pushed myself up, swung my feet to the floor, and slumped there, panting. Migraine hangovers were such a bitch—and yet another thing people didn’t believe existed.

My stomach lurched, but I needed to eat, or at least drink, to get some strength back.

Kitchen. That meant standing up and crossing the room, but I managed it.

Turning on the kitchen light left me temporarily blind, and I staggered around with a hand shading my eyes, getting a drink of water (which I spilled all over myself before the cup made it to my mouth), putting on the kettle (the lid clattered to the floor and bounced painfully off my toes), and finding a mug for some tea.

Gods, this really couldn’t go on. Over the last couple of years, my migraines had gone from once every few weeks, to once a week, to their current rate of every other day. It was crippling. Most of the time I couldn’t go to work when I had one, I could barely work the day after, and if it got much worse I wouldn’t be able to go to work at all. My job as a bookstore stocker and internet shipper had super flexible hours, and my boss was cool. But he’d fire me for calling in sick eventually.

In fact, I was supposed to be there right now. But it’d need to wait for tomorrow, and I’d have to go all the way to the big central post office that had Saturday hours instead of the nice, close one…

Slumping into a chair, I dropped my head in my hands.

Ow. Okay. I still needed to move more slowly than that.

And seriously, this couldn’t go on. This much pain, this often, with no time to have a life…I was starting not to care if I lived or died.

Which scared the hell out of me.

I’d tried all the medical and pseudo-medical options to no avail. Migraine prescriptions, which gave me heart palpitations and shooting pains in my toes that lasted a week post-migraine. Massage. Acupuncture. Homeopathy.

With standard and non-standard medicine exhausted, I’d paid a well-regarded witch an eye-wateringly high fee to fix me with magic.

The no-refunds clause in her contract had been written by a very smart lawyer, I discovered, but on the bright side—literally—I now saw sparkly neon-orange auras made up of tiny logos for her magic business in my peripheral vision at the moment my headaches began, and also every day at four in the afternoon.

On top of the medicine and magic, I’d tried changing my diet (sort of, because anything that didn’t include chocolate was inhumane and also I didn’t really like fruit), yoga (which had actually stuck as a habit but didn’t do anything about the migraines), and drinking more water, usually with either coffee beans or tea leaves soaked in it for a while for some flavor. None of that had worked either.

That left me with only one idea to try.

And gods, I’d stopped doing that years ago. Broken the addiction. Gotten over the disappointment. Thrown out the candles and the bits of chalk and the fancy herbs and the stupid cloak I’d worn to do the rituals. Well, the cloak was somewhere in the back of my closet, but it was like I’d thrown it out, right? Since I couldn’t see it.

I didn’t want to go down that road again, but it was this or…I didn’t want to think about the or what. Life stretched ahead of me like an endless gray tunnel with only one way out.

Maybe tonight was the night to try the last solution before I ran out of possibilities.

After the kettle boiled, I poured my tea and left it to steep while I went to find the book I’d been unable to resist snagging at work, a discard that our used book buyer had tossed into the trash due to its unsellable condition. The mildewed cover hid a multitude of sins, including missing pages, indefinable stains, and marginalia scribbled by someone with either palsy or their eyes closed. But I knew enough to be sure the book was legit.

All of the books I’d used over the years had been legit. My repeated failures had been my own fault, I was sure, because other people managed to do successful summonings, didn’t they? But maybe my current desperation would give me the boost I needed. And besides, all of my other attempted summonings had been focused on binding a demon to my will: getting him to make me rich, or handsome, or successful.

For this one, I’d changed my objective. Instead of trying to control a demon, I’d offer to let him control me. Because at this point, I was more than willing to be possessed by a demon and be a passenger in my own body if it meant not hurting like this anymore.

As a bonus, he’d probably fix the whole unlovable and alone and broke thing, I figured, because he’d want to live an enjoyable life in my body. And even though the guy at the legal aid clinic had totally struck out on doing anything about the glowing orange logos, surely a demon would be able to get rid of those, too.

One of the few readable pages in the book had a spell I thought would work for me. According to the crabbed text, it’d summon a demon who would “enter in and take complete possession of the body to use as he doth will it and force the will to bend to his own.” It also promised he’d “fill the body with his vitality,” which had to encompass curing headaches, right?

I sat down at my kitchen table with my cup of tea, took a bracing sip, and laid out the spell and its components, which I’d put together a few weeks ago in a fit of nostalgia and longing.

First, a selection of herbs and spices: basil, cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, and cayenne pepper that I’d scraped out of the bottoms of a few different jars in my cabinets. They’d have to do, whatever. I didn’t have the cash for better. The spice aisle at the store might as well be called the bankruptcy aisle. And it wasn’t like using high-quality spell components had done much for me in the past.

Then the spell had called for, of all things, the intestines of a sheep. I mean…ewww, and that was a terrible pun, so—yuck. Not happening. I’d done the best I could, given the limitations of my squeamishness and the discount grocery store two blocks down from my apartment, and grabbed a can of menudo soup. Maybe extra hot and spicy would be a plus for summoning a demon.

Olive oil was next, but I’d opted not to buy any of that, either. I had a can of spray-on avocado oil I used for when I heated up takeout leftovers in a frying pan, and that had to do.

“The raw, wet, pulsating flesh of a luscious oyster” was next on the list. By this point, I’d started side-eyeing the writer of this spell pretty hard, but I was determined to get at least some version of everything, even if I wasn’t going to spend much money. Luckily, I’d found a small flat can of smoked oysters on a shelf near the menudo.

Last of all, the spell demanded “the supplicant’s sweet salt.” That one had really confused me. None of the spells I’d used before had included that.

In the end, I’d decided to put some of the fancy Himalayan pink salt my sister had given me last Yule into a bowl with a glob of honey on top. Honey seemed more magic-appropriate than cane sugar from a bag. Even if it came out of a plastic bear.

With all of it arranged in the spell’s mandated concentric circles, I stepped back from the table, slugged the rest of my tea, and fumbled around in the junk drawer. There were a few battered tea lights in there, plus a box of birthday candles, and I managed to get the four cardinal points plus two extras representing me and “the flame of my desire.” At the last moment, I switched two of them so that my “desire” would be one of the tea lights instead of a pink striped birthday candle with remnants of chocolate frosting on the bottom. That just felt too pathetic.

Although I’d have murdered a chocolate cake right then.

Focus, David.

I lit the candles, tilted the spell toward their light and squinted—with a spike of pain, and oh, this was not doing my hopefully fading headache any favors—and read the spell aloud in as strong and sonorous a voice as I could project.

“…te oinomead muc muut elibuc itsiusop memilbus,” I finished, and immediately coughed, choked, and cleared my throat awkwardly.

Silence fell. Nothing happened, except for the familiar, dragging sensation of extreme disappointment.

If it had worked, even at all, I’d have expected…a clap of thunder, maybe. Possibly the oyster flesh pulsating lusciously? Although I couldn’t see it inside the can, to be fair. Vitality filling my body, or something?

My phone gave a loud chime, and I jumped so high I nearly whacked into the ceiling, letting out a strangled, high-pitched sound I was intensely grateful no one was there to hear. Occasionally there was something to be said for being alone and unloved. I subsided, panting, every nerve in my body quivering as adrenaline ebbed and flowed. My phone flashed, and I grabbed it and checked the notification.

The Heart 2 Heart dating app had chosen that exact moment to message me. Well, at least I’d summoned something with my menudo and stale cinnamon sticks. “Congratulations!” it said. “Your blind date has arrived, courtesy of Cupid himself!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I muttered. “I can’t believe I paid five ninety-nine for an app that sends messages to the wrong user.”

And then I yelped again, spinning and flailing and flinging my phone behind me with a crash, as a deep, gravelly voice said, “Are you all right? In my experience, it’s a bad sign when humans make noises like that.”

CHAPTER TWO

“Who—the fuck—fuck,” I gasped, staggering back and slamming into the wall, bonking my head on the cutting board I had hanging from a nail. “It worked. I can’t believe it⁠—”

And then I froze in place, the words withering on my tongue, as all of my brain functions went on standby.

In the low, flickering light of the array of small candles, the owner of the voice was a huge, terrifying shadow filling the kitchen doorway.

It stepped forward, looming over me, head nearly brushing the doorframe.

Well, he stepped forward.

Definitely he. If the broad shoulders, masculine bare chest, and deep voice hadn’t been good clues, the enormous bulge in the front of his tight black leather pants made it clear.

He had to be nearly seven feet tall, skin a light reddish-bronze, his shoulders and chest and arms bulging with muscles that would’ve had Kenny or Scotty curled up in the corner crying. Long, long legs encased in those pants—the only thing he wore. And a harsh-featured face with—yes, a hint of fang peeking out between firm lips. Glittering, metallic dark-bronze eyes. Hair like flame, vermilion and burgundy, curling around his temples.

A demon. I’d actually summoned a real live demon. Using smoked oysters and birthday candles.

For fuck’s sake, it’d never worked at all when I was wearing my snazzy velvet cloak. Now he decided to show up?

Although if this particular demon had made an appearance when I was fifteen and started trying to summon one, I’d have passed out cold from terror.

Even now, as a grown-ass adult, I slumped as my knees tried their best to give out. I pressed my sweaty palms to the wall behind me and stayed upright through sheer willpower.

“Well?” he demanded abruptly, voice a cranky rumble. “Are you all right or not?”

All right? Was I? For now, I guessed, unless he decided to do something horrible to me.

My nose twitched from the scorched scent of fire and stone and something even spicier than all the nonsense I’d put on my kitchen table. Definitely a demon, even though I could hardly believe it. Nothing else could possibly have a scent like that. It was the most enticing thing I’d ever encountered: the smell of pure temptation.

“I didn’t think you were supposed to have your own body,” I managed to say.

The demon took another step forward, the battered old wood floor creaking under his weight.

I squeaked and pressed myself harder to the wall.

He stopped abruptly, brow furrowed, and crossed his arms. The way his pecs and biceps rippled and bulged would’ve given Kenny and Scotty some kind of religious experience, or maybe an aneurysm. Gods, I wished they were here to see this and feel deeply, horrifically inadequate by comparison. Although with my luck, the three of them would all go bond over the keto diet or something and leave me here with the oysters and my migraines.

Actually, no. As I recalled from Kenny’s endless monologues, the oysters were keto. So they’d even take those.

“You’re definitely not all right,” the demon said. “In the head, if nothing else. Are you seriously afraid of me? You summoned me! Not that we don’t get that a lot. People are obnoxious.”

Not right in the—obnoxious—how dare he! “I beg your pardon,” I sputtered, stung enough to push off the wall toward him, heedless of the potential danger. “My head’s fine! Mentally, I mean,” I added a bit anticlimactically, as I remembered that I had in fact summoned him because my head was the opposite of fine.

The demon uncrossed his arms, hands going to his hips in a posture uncannily reminiscent of my great-aunt Barbara. He shot a pointed look at the clear evidence of insanity laid out on the small table, and then leveled his gaze on me again.

“Yes, clearly,” he said, and I winced. “I mean, this,” and he waved a hand at the guttering candles and stale spices of my spell, “is pathetic and kind of insulting. Canned soup? And that—what the fuck is that?” He leaned down and peered into the bowl of pink salt and honey. “ You finally make it work, after so many times—is that supposed to be a joke?”

He glanced sharply up at me, frowning, and I fell back against the wall again under the force of those gleaming eyes.

“It’s—sweet and salt,” I stammered. “Like it says. In the book? Seriously, aren’t you supposed to be here to take me over and, and, I don’t know, possess me?”

The demon blinked at me slowly, crimson lashes casting long shadows on his cheekbones. And then he reached over and twisted the dimmer switch over the table, flooding the kitchen with an eye-watering glare.

“Ow!” I said, throwing up a hand in front of my face, temples throbbing and everything going a little sideways around me. “Shit, warn a guy!”

“The mood lighting was starting to feel a little bit clichéd,” he said, and those words in his raspy, demonic growl were the weirdest thing I’d ever heard. I dropped my hand and stared at him, as he continued with, “For one thing, of course I have my own body. For two, shouldn’t you be naked and on your knees? Or on your back? Can you cross your ankles behind your head? You do yoga.”

My stare turned into an outright gape. I opened my mouth, closed it again, blinked—and no, I still had a giant half-naked demon crowded into my tiny kitchen telling me he expected me to be on my knees, and also asking if I did yoga.

No, he’d stated that I did yoga. How the fuck?

“How the fuck do you know I do yoga? Have you been watching me? No, stupid question, I just summoned you a minute ago, but I mean, do demons have powers like⁠—”

“Of course I haven’t been watching you. Why would I have been watching you?” he said in a hurry, and he was looking off to the side, not meeting my eyes. Weird. “I walked through your living room. And I, ah, saw your yoga mat.”

“Oh.” I swallowed, feeling my cheeks and neck go all flushed. “Well, yes. I do yoga. And that’s my yoga mat,” I added lamely.

He raised one thick, dark-red eyebrow and looked down his nose at me…way, way down, because I scraped five foot six in my favorite boots.

“You dodged the really important question,” he said, flashing a wicked, teasing smile that hit me somewhere in the solar plexus. And lower. Deeper. “Can you cross your ankles behind your head or not?”

Suddenly I could almost see and feel it: my back curled and my legs hiked all the way up, the way my feet would be caught between my head and the pillow, the compression of my lungs that’d have me panting as I peered up at him between my thighs. Big, hot hands on the curves of my ass, a gleaming grin and glowing eyes and the terrifying jut of his massive…

“Oh, gods,” I whimpered, and snapped back to the present, panting as much as if I really had been…wherever I’d been, with heat pooling in the pit of my gut and behind my balls, all molten and tight and shivery. My sweaty palms slipped on the wall. Seriously? I didn’t even want that. Kenny had told me I looked ridiculous in positions like that because I was too chubby and it gave me rolls in unattractive places, and he wasn’t the only one. And yet…

I blinked, and there he was, right there, with one of his hands braced by my head as he leaned down and in. My eyes fluttered almost shut, and I peeked at him through my lashes. The radiating warmth of his body toasted me from head to toe. It was better than any heating pad in the world. His eyes glowed faintly, like the coals in the depths of a fire, the way they had in my little vacation from reality.

“You smell like you’re ready to take me inside you,” he said, all low and raspy, his breath brushing my lips, a delicate caress that made my skin tingle. “Here? Or in your bedroom? Humans care about things like that, right?”

Ready to take me inside you.

My brain went staticky, a radio tuned to whatever frequency corresponded to a demon appearing in my kitchen apparently hell-bent, so to speak, on…hell-bending me? Over. Bending me over.

Oh, gods, I’d lost it. And my whole body had started to quiver.

He leaned nearer. All my hair stood on end. The parts of my skin nearest to him got prickly and tender, every cell in my body responding to him.

But…no, no, I had to focus, I didn’t want that at all, I wanted him to possess me, not…

Oh, fuck.

Possess had more than one connotation. I’d screwed up the spell somehow.

Or misunderstood it completely in the first place.

Damn it, I knew that fucking spicy menudo had been a bad idea.

“Wait,” I gasped, as his free hand curled around my hip, hot as a brand even through my clothes. A shockwave coursed down all my nerves. His hand was so big. Gods. “Wait, that’s not why I⁠—”

My next words faded into a garbled moan as the demon leaned all the way down, curving his huge body over me, and pressed his face against my throat. A hot, wet tongue slipped out. And out. And…up, fuck, flicking my earlobe and teasing the shell of my ear.

“How long is that thing?” I choked, my hands coming up of their own accord and grabbing onto his shoulders. Granite under satin. Fucking gods, he felt good. I didn’t want this, though, right? I wanted him to take over, make my life easy, and cure my migraines!

But he didn’t seem eager to move in and control my body—unless you counted the enormous erection that brushed my stomach as he shifted his weight and leaned even closer.

It felt incredible.

When he chuckled against my skin, that felt even better. His tongue whipped back to his mouth, leaving my skin tingling in its wake. “How long do you want it to be?”

My eyes crossed and rolled back in my head simultaneously, something I hadn’t even known was possible. Need clenched the pit of my stomach. My body clenched up in all kinds of places, in fact.

Well, mostly one place.

Gods, I was so empty. He could fill me. Impale me, heat me from the inside…

“…possess you completely, just like you wanted,” he finished in a growl against my neck. His words. All of it. Echoing in my ears and in my mind—taking over my mind, only not the way I’d expected. The world had gone all soft and gooey around me, morphing into strange shapes. He had to be messing with my head. Hypnotizing me. “I’ll forgive you for the pink salt because you taste even sweeter than I thought you would.”

There was a hard, muscular arm around my waist, and I was moving, his teeth scraping against my neck, veins throbbing where he threatened them with his fangs. The tiny frisson of pain and the possibility of imminent death shot adrenaline straight down to my balls, and behind them. You couldn’t actually be in gasping pain from how much you needed a cock up your ass, could you? I wouldn’t have thought so. But I squirmed and whimpered, trying to cross my legs to alleviate the desperate tightness between them, my fingers clawing into the demon’s chest.

A low growl rumbled out of that chest, and he clutched me closer, plastering me against acres of hard muscle.

I blinked, and that was my living room ceiling, my head tipped back on his shoulder. Was I walking? Not sure, but I blinked again and moaned as everything tilted and I caught a dizzying glimpse of the nerdy poster on my wall that Kenny had always made fun of me for, even though he liked the movies too. So sue me, Sean Bean was so hot.

This demon was even hotter, literally and metaphorically.

And he was laying me down on my bed, hence the tilting.

“You’re going to belong to me after this, David,” he said, tone matter-of-fact, and I blinked again, not sure if I was hallucinating the reddish glow in his eyes or not. “I’m finally here, and I’m going to stay inside you. Until you can’t feel anything but me.”

The last of my resistance evaporated—not that I’d been putting up much of a fight.

Part of me had wanted to, though. Intended to, anyway. Considered it in the abstract. Not because I didn’t want this, but because it felt so much like an accidental pity fuck.

But now—that really sounded like he meant to possess me after all, didn’t it? Maybe. It could be read that way. He’d fuck me, and that was how he’d get…inside. Maybe his body would disappear, or something.

Damn it, it wasn’t like I had a lot of leisure time to think it through. He’d already knelt between my sprawled legs and popped the button on my jeans, wrapping one big hand around my left thigh to hold me in place while he tugged down my zipper with the other.

My cock strained at the front of my pants, and I groaned as it slipped through the gap in the denim, tenting the blue plaid cotton of my dorky boxers. Fuck, I really would’ve worn something else if I’d known I’d be getting ravished by a demon tonight instead of inventorying used cookbooks.

I hadn’t expected this to work, just like it hadn’t worked the hundred other times. Why had it? It nagged at me, along with how he seemed to know things about me…like my name, but I couldn’t think or focus, because he’d moved closer, and his knees were pressing my legs apart, pulling my ass open and stretching the tender skin behind my balls. Gods, I needed him, I needed…

No, I had to—I had questions first!

“I won’t be able to feel my migraines with you inside me, right?” I slurred, trying to push myself up onto my elbows. “And wait, how do you know my name?”

The demon looked up and bared his teeth at me in something that could’ve been a smile. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, which didn’t actually answer either of my questions. “And my name is Xan, if you care,” he added.

“Xan,” I whispered, trying my best to try to duplicate the odd, throat-clearing pronunciation of the first sound. “Nice to meet you.”

His eyes widened and he let out a low growl that froze me in place like prey and raised goosebumps on my arms. And then he wrapped his huge hands around the waist of my jeans and boxers and yanked them down.

CHAPTER THREE

The head of my cock popped out of my boxers, all flushed and demanding, and the elastic band pressing on my shaft had me writhing and toppling onto my back again, my arms giving out.

Okay, no more questions and no more worrying. Maybe I’d meet some horrible fate later tonight, and maybe this wouldn’t do anything about the headaches. Maybe I’d die at the big, powerful hands of this demon I’d summoned, with orange logos flickering in my vision at the last.

But I no longer cared. I needed his touch like I needed air. Either some demonic magic, or simple sexual deprivation, or some combination, but the heavy ache between my legs encompassed my cock, my balls, my clenching hole. Gods, he’d probably ruin me.

My fingers twitched with the desire to open the straining front of those leather pants, pull out his cock, lick it, suck it, spread my legs and let him destroy me with it.

Before I could try, Xan bent down and opened his mouth, his tongue snaking out, the end curling toward my cock. My heart thudded and raced, and gods, that couldn’t possibly be good for my blood pressure, and I’d never seen anything like that tongue, and nobody had so much as touched my cock with a normal human tongue in years, and⁠—

His tongue wrapped around just below my cockhead, lightning-fast, the forked tip flicking my glans like a whip.

A very wet, very hot whip, with a slight sting of pain behind the unbelievable perfection of it.

I choked, moaned, arched up, and almost came all over his face.

“Mmm,” he hummed, and lifted his head, his tongue whipping away again and leaving me blinking up at him, panting. “You really are sweet everywhere. Aroused, and hard, and wanting.” He stroked his hands up my thighs and curled them around my hips. “But soft in all the right places.”

Soft in all the right places nearly undid all the hard and wanting right then and there, and I froze, staring at him.

I was soft in a lot of places. Like my hips, where his fingers were teasing the little curve of chub that stuck out below the slight dip of my waist, and he hadn’t even gotten to my ass yet, which was definitely soft and round…but the right places? He had to be making fun of me. Kenny hadn’t wanted to fuck me that often because my ass and thighs jiggled, and it was such a turn-off for him. No matter how much I tried to get more exercise it never seemed to help.

“Stop,” I said, or kind of squeaked. I cleared my throat. “Don’t!” Because Xan had started pushing his hands higher, rucking up my shirt and exposing my stomach and more of my sides. Fuck, I didn’t want him to change his mind. I grabbed at my T-shirt hem, trying to pull it down again. “You can leave my shirt on, that’s fine. You don’t want⁠—”

I stuttered into silence as he shifted his grip to wrap my hands with his, fingers pressing in between mine in a way that mimicked how he was pressing my legs open with the breadth of his huge body.

“What don’t I want?” he asked, and raked me over with his glowing gaze, up and down, lingering on my cock. That heated look was almost tangible, my skin tingling in its wake. “I think I want everything. I told you. All of you. You summoned me to possess you, and now you think that doesn’t include your upper body?”

Well, okay, when he put it that way, but…

“I’m not sure what you mean by the right places. But I’m not, you know. I don’t look like you.”

Xan’s hands tightened around my own so hard and so suddenly that it hurt, and I cried out, struggling, as his eyes blazed.

The pressure lightened instantly, but the glow didn’t. His eyes burned like coals.

“Forgive me,” he said, voice an even rougher growl. “I know how fragile you humans are. Did I injure you?”

“No,” I whispered. He’d started stroking my hands with his fingertips, little gentle trails of his burning heat along my skin. Everywhere he touched me instantly became an erogenous zone.

How would those fingers feel inside me? As hot as they did on the outside?

“Good,” he said, but he didn’t stop stroking, and every motion felt like he was doing it to my cock, which stood up painfully hard, the head swollen, my balls tight.

Xan leaned down, eyes glowing red and lips parted enough to show me a glimpse of his flickering tongue. My own eyes were sliding shut, tremors along every one of my nerves making me weak. I was melting into the bed and strung taut with tension at the same time, my whole body quivering.

“There’s nothing soft where I come from,” he went on. “Nothing sweet. Nothing—delicate.” My fingers had unclenched from around the hem of my shirt under his gentle assault, and he carefully pulled my hands away, laying them at my sides. I watched through my lashes, breathing like I’d been running a marathon, the tightness between my legs gathering almost to the point of pain, as he took hold of my T-shirt again. “Nothing like you.”

He pulled the fabric up slowly. Even though I had to bite my lip and clench my fists again, this time in the bedding, I didn’t try to stop him.

I closed my eyes. I knew what he’d see. Only a faint trail of hair, because I was pretty smooth all over and my pale blond hair didn’t show much in the first place. Chub on my hips. Maybe even a slight red mark from where the waistband of my jeans had dug in a bit. The convex curve of my belly, not an abdominal muscle to be seen. They were there, of course. Just invisible. The slight indent at my waist, between the chub and my ribs. And then my chest, as he pushed the cotton up almost to my collarbones. More smooth softness there. I had muscle underneath that, too, quite a bit, and strong shoulders. I lifted a lot of boxes of books at work. But it didn’t particularly show.

Most of the time I’d waited until Kenny left the room to undress, because he’d made this sort of groaning, sighing sound whenever he saw me with my shirt off. Luckily for both of us, I could leave it on to blow him.

So the last time someone had seen me like this had been—well, a while.

But the sound Xan let out didn’t seem to indicate disappointment. It could’ve been the purr of a terrifyingly large cat.

Instead, it was the purr of a terrifyingly large demon, a low, rumbling vibration pitched perfectly to set off whatever part of my lizard brain wanted to whimper and put my ass in the air and hope for the best.

When I cracked my eyes open, I found his hungry, glowing gaze fixed on my body, and I squirmed uncomfortably, my face going hot and my head light and floaty.

“You’re perfect,” he said. “If I’d wanted someone like me, I’d have stayed at home. Everything’s a fight with my kind. Rough. I’m tired of it.”

He bent his head down until all I could see was the curling flame-like tendrils of his hair, and pressed his lips just above my navel. I tried desperately to suck it all in, but I was breathing too hard, and I only managed to quiver my stomach against his mouth in a way that showed off exactly how not-firm it was.

And that pushed me over the edge, making me writhe under him, desperate to get away from this—from this—gods, from the most affectionate touch I’d had in years. Because I’d summoned him.

“You couldn’t stay home,” I gasped, trying to shove at him and get him up, but accomplishing exactly nothing, my fingers scrabbling against firm, hot skin wrapped around muscles like granite. “My spell brought you here⁠—”

“Your spell opened a door,” he said, and bit me, a stinging nip that made me yelp and arch up. “I walked through it voluntarily. Because I wanted to fuck your pretty soft body until you’re drenched in sweat and soaked with my come. And smiling,” he added, and lifted his head, a smile of his own teasing the corners of his lips in a breathtakingly charming way, even though his sharp fangs peeked out at me. Maybe even because of the fangs. “I like your smile.”

If I hadn’t been desperately aroused and flustered and embarrassed and confused, I might not have said, in a bizarrely formal tone, “I like your smile too. Thank you for coming,” and then stopped, biting my lip and horrified.

Silence echoed around us for a long moment.

His mouth fell open a little, and he stared at me. I couldn’t read the look in Xan’s eyes. They still glowed, but behind the orangey glare I could see his expression. I just couldn’t interpret it.

Finally he shifted his weight, moving up, carefully lowering himself down between my legs and sliding his hands off of my shoulders so he could prop himself to either side of me.

“I haven’t come yet,” he said. “Thank me after I’ve filled you. I think you’re going to like it.”

Before I could even begin to think of an answer, he ducked his head down and sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, pricking it with his fangs, lashing it with his tongue, tugging on my flesh like he meant to consume me.

My cock throbbed in rhythm with the pulses of his mouth, and one of his hands trailed down my side and then slid under my ass, fingers teasing into the crease, squeezing and kneading me.

Everything went sparkly gray, confusing, overwhelming. His mouth on me, moving to the other nipple, leaving the first stinging and swollen and begging for more. His hands, everywhere, the strain in my thighs as he shoved them as wide as they could go with his leather-clad knees. Where the fuck had my jeans and boxers gone? He’d pulled them off, and pushed my shirt over my head, and then he was growling against the tender skin of my inner thigh, tongue snaking behind my balls and curling in toward the center of me.

Xan’s tongue flickered against my rim as he wrapped one huge hand around my balls, lifting them and squeezing them against my aching cock.

He wasn’t going to…but he was going to, gods, he was really going to—his tongue pressed inside me, the forked end flicking my rim as he forced his way past the tight little ring of muscle that hadn’t been touched, opened like this, in so fucking long.

I shuddered and moaned, eyes wide, staring up at the ceiling in shock as Xan’s tongue wriggled deeper, stretching me, thicker than I’d thought a tongue would be. The forked tip fluttered deep inside my body.

So close, I’d come any second, arching up, wailing, truly possessed in a way I never had been, and gods, my whole body hurt with how much I needed—his hand tightened, forcing my orgasm back down, and I collapsed, sobbing in frustration.

The sensation of his tongue sliding out of me probably should’ve been disgusting. I probably should’ve been horrified by having a demon’s tongue burrowing into my body in the first place.

I wasn’t.

As he withdrew his tongue, every inch lit me up from the inside, rubbing over parts of me that hadn’t been stimulated in so damn long. And he left me wet and slick, as prepped as I’d ever been in my life.

When he knelt up over me, eyes blazing and the tip of his tongue disappearing between his lips again, I was ready to beg.

Ready, but not able, because my dry throat wouldn’t let the words come out. I gazed up at him mutely, wide-eyed and flushed and damp with sweat, too desperate to even be self-conscious anymore.

He’d fucked me with his tongue. I really didn’t think a guy would do that if he didn’t like me, right?

Soft in all the right places. On the inside, certainly.

My eyes dropped to the front of his pants. The bulge there had grown from large and noticeable to enormous and intimidating, the leather showing the strain.

He was hard in all the right places.

Xan kept his hand wrapped around my cock and balls, pinning me like a butterfly, thumb gently rubbing circles on the sensitive skin between my balls and my hole. He laid his other hand over the ridge of his own erection, letting out a low groan as he stroked all the way to the top and did something deft to the waistband that I didn’t quite see.

His pants opened, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of more coppery skin and a trail of crimson hair.

And then he slid his hand down, pushing the front of his pants all the way open.

If I’d thought the rest of him was impressive, well. The rest of him had nothing on his cock, which stood up and out as if relieved to be free of his pants. It was darker bronzy-red, flushed and thick and with a rough-looking texture like the bark of an oak tree. The head wasn’t the size of my fist, or anything…probably. I swallowed hard. I mean, definitely not quite that big.

But the whole thing looked like it’d make you feel every fucking inch and then some.

Make me feel.

That was going up my ass, which hadn’t had any action in so long I might as well have been a virgin again—unless you counted Xan’s tongue.

Gods, I was so far out of my league.

Xan smiled down at me, showing all his teeth for the first time, his two longer-than-human incisors gleaming, and ran his index finger up his cock, lingering on the ridge of the glans.

“Turn over or spread your legs the rest of the way, David,” he said. “Time to be possessed. And I need enough room to work.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Yeah. Yeah, he was going to need room to work. Maybe more room than I had. I gave it fifty/fifty if he’d fuck me into oblivion or tear me in half. Or both at the same time.

But I’d summoned him to possess me, and this was the type of possession my summoning, spicy menudo and all, had gotten me. I hadn’t cared if a demon took me over and left me with the scraps of my own body and mind, had I? Somehow, though, this was even more terrifying.

My expression must have told him some of what I was thinking, because his smile faded and he sighed, shaking his head, another gesture straight from my great-aunt’s playbook of disapproval. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, gently but with a hint of exasperation. “I already told you.”

The words helped, but nothing could’ve reassured me more than his slight air of frustration with a stupid human who hadn’t been paying attention.

I believed him.

And the last of my worry floated away.

What did I have to lose? Seriously. I couldn’t even afford to buy fresh basil at the gods-damned grocery store, let alone scrounge up the money, energy, or other resources to deal with all the other flaming garbage my life had become.

“I’ll turn over,” I managed to say, because at least that way I could bury my face in the pillow and hide my stomach.

Of course, that meant rolling myself over awkwardly as he watched me.

Or not, because he nodded, grabbed me by the hips, and flipped me before I could do more than yelp and flail, spinning me dizzyingly and then dropping me face-down. He immediately nudged back between my legs, thighs bracing mine and shoving my ass straight up in the air.

I blinked and spat out a mouthful of pillowcase, scrabbling my arms under me and then falling down again as Xan grasped my ass cheeks in his hands and spread me open as wide as he could. The twinge of stretching pain in my crease, the tug on my hole, my balls swinging and pulling on it even more, my cock tangled up in the comforter, my hair in my eyes and the trembling in my arms…

The mattress dipped as Xan shifted his weight, leaning forward. His cockhead touched my hole, huge and hot.

And wet. Something slick coated the tip of his cock. Something natural, because he hadn’t used any lube. This hadn’t been in any of the blog posts I’d read about demons.

Xan eased forward, letting his cockhead slowly force me open. I whimpered at the slight burn of it, turning my head to get the cool pillow against my equally burning face.

“Sssh,” Xan murmured, and squeezed the cheeks of my ass in a way that seemed meant to be soothing but instead tugged more on my overstretched hole. “Relax for me. This is the hard part. Once I’m inside it’ll feel like I’m meant to be there.”

He pushed, and I moaned, and a sharp spike of pain made me gasp, afraid I’d actually tear, and then—with an audible pop, he was in me, that massively thick cockhead pressing right where I needed the pressure the most.

It sent a shockwave through me, inside and out, my hole and my cock and my balls and my stomach and chest, and I clenched down on him and then released, over and over, all my muscles fluttering.

I came like that, curling in on myself around the thick, heavy demon cock lodged in the softest and most vulnerable part of me, making helpless little sounds that might’ve embarrassed me if I’d been in a position to care.

But my current position gave me a lot more immediate concerns than that.

Like the way I was still shuddering, pleasure coursing through me and leaving me limp, while Xan pushed deeper, growling again, his hands flexing on my ass.

Now I could feel that texture that I’d seen, the hard whorls of his shaft. Ribbed condoms had absolutely fucking nothing on a demon, and the thought made me laugh and then choke as he shoved deeper, his huge cockhead opening up parts of me no other man had ever touched.

Xan didn’t stop until his big, heavy balls rested against mine. The leather of his pants stuck to my sweaty thighs. He let go of my ass at last, leaning down over me and covering me with his body, putting his hands on either sides of my shoulders so that his arms caged me in completely. Heat soaked into me all over. He really was like the world’s largest heating pad, only he came with an enormous cock and a prehensile tongue and…and kisses, pressed so sweetly to my shoulder and the nape of my neck, all the way across to the other shoulder.

“David,” he murmured. “You came on my cock already. I haven’t even fucked you yet. I hope that means you’re smiling.”

Was I? Yes, actually. I’d have been purring, too, if I’d been physically equipped for it.

Gods, he really seemed to want to make me happy. The fuck was up with that?

He’d said I’d like it, hadn’t he? And he’d been right. “Thank you,” I said.

“For what?” Xan kissed my neck again, this time with a flick of his tongue. I shivered, and he laughed against my skin.

“Filling me. You said I’d like it. I do.”

He groaned and thrust, and I moaned, and then he was fucking me, slowly at first but picking up speed as I writhed under him and muttered incoherent encouragement, managing to move one of my hands over to grasp his. Our fingers tangled together, and he slammed into me, grunting, the slap of his balls against mine and the sticky sound of leather against my skin punctuating the slick noises of his cock in my wet hole.

The lingering achy sweetness of my orgasm blended into the throb of my body around his huge cock, and then into my own hardening again, balls tight and heavy, clenching, Xan going faster and rougher…he stiffened in and over and around me, letting out a roar that almost deafened me, and fiery heat flooded my insides.

Not quite, not quite, fuck—I forced my free hand down in front of me, nearly wrenching my shoulder out of its socket. One stroke and I spilled all over my palm, fingers sticky, the bedding already wet from before and now twice as soaked.

I collapsed into a spent, shuddering heap, arm trapped under me, ass sticking up in the air and impaled on Xan’s otherworldly cock, eyes sliding shut, panting and dry-mouthed and wrecked.

But smiling. I was definitely smiling, and when Xan carefully rolled us to our sides, wrapping his arm around my chest and pulling me close against his, nuzzling into my hair and making more of those growling, purring sounds…I was sure he was smiling too. I didn’t even need to see him. Feeling him was even better, anyway, what with the hard wall of muscle at my back and the warmth inside me, all full and wet. If my stomach had been flat to begin with, maybe it would’ve been rounded now, because it felt like he’d come enough to make a visible bulge.

Another thing that probably should’ve grossed me out.

But it didn’t.

Maybe I’d already hit my limit with the spell’s requests for pulsating oyster flesh and sheep intestines, because being inflated full of demon come just didn’t move the needle.

Xan stroked down my chest and rested his broad palm over my rounded belly, kneading again with his long fingers, the gesture as catlike as the purring.

“Soft,” he said, in a tone of profound satisfaction. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

And then he stopped abruptly, words hanging in the air awkwardly. He hadn’t meant to say that. I could’ve sworn to it.

He’d waited.

The fuck?

That, plus the way he’d known my name, and then that moment when I’d asked if he’d been watching me…I’d thought that was a stupid question at the time, but he’d reacted so oddly, hadn’t he?

“What does that mean? And answer the question, Xan. No dodging.”

Now it was my turn to wait, because the silence stretched on for a lot longer than felt reasonable. Long enough that I started coming out of my orgasm haze and noticing things that were almost as disturbing as the possibility that I’d had a demon stalking me for some indeterminate period of time. Like the way his cock hadn’t even started to go soft inside me, still as insistently erect as it’d been when he started fucking me. Or the way his spicy, fiery scent had wound itself around me, acting on my nerves like a drug.

I should’ve been a lot more disturbed than I was by the potential stalking and by the rest of it.

But my eyelids had started to droop, every blink longer than the last.

Nothing hurt. Even the heavy, uncomfortable pain-echo that I usually had after a migraine hadn’t made its appearance.

I felt good.

Fuck. How long had it been since I felt good?

Okay, whatever. He could watch me like a creep as much as he wanted. I snuggled down a little deeper into his arms, the motion pushing his bizarrely still-hard cock even deeper into my body and making my own cock try, futilely but valiantly, to get stiff again too.

At last, right as I gave up on getting an answer at all, Xan sighed heavily and pinned me a little harder around my middle, as if I might try to get away.

“You opened a door to me when you tried your first summoning,” he said, in a tone that suggested great reluctance. “Or maybe it wasn’t your first summoning. I don’t know, because there wasn’t any way for me to see you before that. Your first semi-successful summoning. That time, I caught a glimpse of you, only you didn’t try hard enough. You didn’t mean it enough. The door wouldn’t open all the way. But you kept trying, and I kept looking, because you were sweet and smart and so pretty, and you made me laugh when you talked to yourself, and after a while the door stayed cracked open all the time, even though it wasn’t enough for me to get through. I mean, it’s not really a door. It’s the best description I can give for an interdimensional phenomenon that only magic can control. I’m not a physicist.”

It took me a second to mull that over. The rest of Xan’s body had gone as stiff as his cock, and I absently stroked the hand he had against my belly, soothing him the best I could.

Sweet. Smart. So pretty. Had he been watching someone else and gotten us mixed up somehow? He couldn’t be that stupid.

Which meant…the warmth blooming in my chest had nothing to do with the physical heat of the demon holding me close in his arms.

“So you’ve been watching me for—maybe ten years. Or not quite that long, since I don’t know when I got through to you. How old was I when you first saw me? Did you⁠—”

He cut me off with a low, defensive-sounding rumble of, “It’s not as creepy as it sounds. I was also a juvenile of my kind when I first started watching you. Time passes differently where I’m from, but I’ve only been considered competent to issue death challenges to other adults for a few human years. I thought you’d given up. But then this time—it felt like there was extra power somehow. More than you have. I don’t understand how it worked, especially with that fucking pink salt, but I don’t really care. I’m here.”

For a second, I was too hung up on “death challenges” to process the rest of it. Fucking seriously? No wonder he didn’t want to sleep with any of his own species if that was how they interacted on a day-to-day basis.

And then it really hit me: I’d had a horny teenage demon spying on me the whole time I’d been putting on that cloak and lighting candles and chanting in my bedroom at my mom’s house.

If I’d known, horny teenage human me would’ve been so fucking turned on I’d have been jerking off every ten minutes instead of twice a day.

But…gods, he’d probably heard my sister telling me to shut up and go to bed so she could get some sleep for her final in the morning. And a million other intimate, embarrassing details about me and my life and my family.

After a while, the door stayed cracked open all the time.

He’d seen everything. Including all the times I did jerk off.

And…

“Oh, fuck,” I choked. “You saw—how much did you—there was that time when I was eighteen and I finally was old enough to go to the adult store and I bought that really big dildo and tried to get it all the way—oh gods,” I wailed, as he slid his hand down to my hip and grasped me hard enough to bruise, slamming his cock back in as deep as it would go.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Yes, I fucking watched you all red-faced and moaning while you tried to stuff that huge thing up your sweet ass. I imagined it was me. And now it is. I’m bigger than that,” he added, in a low snarl. “Bigger and all the way inside.”

“Yes,” I gasped, as my cock hardened after all and my body strained to hold him and all of his demon come. The wet squelching sounds of his thick cock reaming me again almost drowned me out. He’d rolled me half onto my stomach again, folding me in half, and I had to struggle for every breath. “Please. More. All the way in, Xan, yes⁠—”

He pounded into me so hard I couldn’t speak anymore, making me devolve into panting moans as he fucked me through the mattress, squirming under him, spread so wide my hips ached.

It didn’t matter. It was the best thing I’d ever felt. If he’d done this to me when I was eighteen I’d have fallen so head-over-heels in love with him, especially if he smiled and held me and cared about my pleasure and told me he’d been watching me because I was pretty and made him laugh.

The second time I came on his cock, he bit my shoulder, digging those fangs in enough to prick my skin and send a sharp, unbearably sweet spike of pleasure-pain straight down my spine and into my stuffed hole and drawn-tight balls.

My orgasm exploded into something unbearably intense, all my limbs going rigid, my vision whiting out.

Xan filled me again, deep and hot, wrapped around me, the two of us tangled together so tightly I couldn’t tell us apart.

As I drifted down, down, into an endless abyss of wrung-out exhaustion, Xan kissed my ear. “David,” he said. “David, listen to me. Do you want me to stay?”

“Mmm,” I hummed, and pressed a sleepy kiss to the arm by my face. What position were we even in? Whatever.

“David,” he said again, urgently, giving me a gentle shake. “Tell me if you want me to stay.”

Fuck, of course I did. “Mmm,” I managed to mumble again. “Xan.” And then my eyes closed and stayed that way as the sweetest, deepest sleep I’d had in years rose up and claimed me.

CHAPTER FIVE

When I blinked my eyes open slowly, morning sunlight was streaming in through the gap left by the broken slat of my bedroom’s Venetian blinds. At its current angle, the sunbeam perfectly illuminated Sean Bean’s sexy but judgy frown.

Autumn days in California might not be all that cold, but the early mornings could be miserably chilly. I blinked again, shivered, and tried to pull the blankets all the way around me.

Because Xan wasn’t there.

I flailed my way onto my back, somehow getting tangled up in the same blankets that weren’t even all the way over me, and let out a whimper as all my muscles seized up at once.

Gods, I hadn’t been worked, or worked over, like that in…ever.

I turned my head. Sean Bean still glowered at me. Maybe he was judging me for getting fucked unconscious by a demon. Or no, that didn’t seem like his style, not that I knew the guy. He was probably judging me for waking up alone, the demon having decided I might be good for a few hours but not more than that.

The familiar sense of self-loathing got its claws in me, my gut churning. I’d never been good enough for anyone: not attractive enough, not interesting enough, not muscular or masculine or outgoing enough.

A familiar prickling sting at the corners of my eyes made me glad no one was there but Sean after all. What if Xan had seen me cry? What would he think of me then?

Except that…he had seen me cry. Probably a bunch of times, because I hadn’t exactly been in control of my emotions in my teens. Okay, or since then, but whatever. Particularly in my teens. He’d watched me. For years.

He’d seen me trying to fuck myself on that improbably large dildo—which had been, in fact, one of the many things that’d made me cry.

Damn it. My hands flew up to cover my face, as if I could somehow retroactively hide from him.

Xan had told me he’d imagined it was him.

I’ve waited a long time for this.

He’d been lonely too, maybe. He must’ve been, or he wouldn’t have been hanging around watching a human in another dimension living his mundane daily life instead of going out and living his own. Maybe whatever teenage demons did to get ready for being a death-challenging grown-up didn’t appeal to him all that much. Or maybe…

Maybe he’d just liked me.

If he’d liked me so much, waited years for me to get my act together and summon him effectively at last, why had he left as soon as I fell asleep, though? Why wasn’t he here disapproving of the way I didn’t have anything to eat for breakfast—because my grocery shopping skills sucked when I was buying food at least as much as when I bought spell components—or simply skipping breakfast and fucking me again?

Shit.

I pulled my hands away and stared up at the ceiling in horrified realization.

Tell me if you want me to stay.

Had I answered him? Told him yes, definitely, make himself at home? No. I hadn’t. I’d mumbled something that sounded encouraging and kissed his arm.

For a human, that would’ve been plenty. If I’d been in his place, I’d have been pretty confident that the guy I was sleeping with wanted me to stick around.

But for a demon? Who’d been summoned to this dimension with magic I didn’t even understand—obviously, or I’d have made it work a decade ago?

The rules were different.

He’d clearly known that. Xan had asked me to ask him to stay, and I’d been too fucking out of it to understand.

I kicked myself free of the last of the bedding that’d somehow tied itself around my legs, and I rolled out of bed and staggered for the bathroom. First things first. I’d take care of my immediate bodily needs, because you couldn’t fucking think straight with a full bladder. A quick shower would be a good idea, too, because I had Xan’s come leaking out of me and my own all over me, and I might need to run to the store for new spell components.

Damn it, I was going to summon him back here if it was the last fucking thing I ever did. Even if I had to buy every can of menudo in town and pawn my laptop so I could afford the fancy smoked cayenne pepper.

The shower left me with more clarity than I’d had in months. Or at least it felt that way. Maybe it was the complete, total lack of anything resembling a migraine. No pain, no dizziness or vertigo, no nausea. My ass ached—more than my ass. Internal parts of my body I didn’t think you were supposed to be conscious of ached, too, still feeling the imprint of that massive cock. When I dried myself off, bending over made me wince. And the muscles of my arms and legs and back all protested.

But those were good pains, the remnants of pleasure. And my mind’s gears were turning smoothly, for once. I hadn’t even realized what a fog of constant neurological misery I’d been in until it suddenly lifted.

It’d worked. My plan had worked. For the moment, at least, I was cured, though I’d have to wait a few hours to see if the orange logos came back on schedule.

And yet it wasn’t good enough. I wanted Xan. A little glimpse of happiness had made me greedy for more. I didn’t know him very well—not yet. But I wanted to.

Xan…he’d watched me, waited for me, for years. Me. How could I resist that? He could’ve been kind of awful and I’d still have been flattered. But instead, he was the hottest guy, in all ways, I’d ever met. Kind and thoughtful. Extraordinary in bed. He liked me. He wanted to make me smile. I’d used to think a shared taste in movies, stuff like that, made you compatible with a boyfriend.

Yeah. That had gotten me Kenny. And the guy before that, who’d only lasted two months, and whom I’d thought was the one for the first few weeks because we both hated avocados and dreamed of traveling to Iceland.

But that crap didn’t matter compared to the way Xan made me feel. In only a few short hours he’d had me excited, relaxed, drenched in pleasure, comfortable in my own skin.

And apparently I made him laugh.

Which meant we could find a compromise on what movies we watched on date night and where we went on vacation, and take the rest of it from there.

So I was getting ahead of myself. Whatever. We should at least be able to go on a real date, right?

That stopped me dead in my tracks in the middle of my bedroom, frozen in the act of pulling up a fresh pair of boxers.

A real date.

The app.

But then this time—it felt like there was extra power somehow. More than you have. I don’t understand how it worked, especially with that fucking pink salt, but I don’t really care.

The Heart 2 Heart app had promised me the intervention of the actual, real god of love—who’d have more than enough magic to snap his fingers, or shoot his bow, or whatever the fuck it was he did, and open that door all the way.

I’d received a notification telling me my blind date was here at the same moment Xan had appeared in my apartment.

My phone. I needed my fucking phone.

My feet nearly went in circles like the freaking Roadrunner, and I dashed through the living room and into the kitchen so quickly I slammed into the table and sent the spices and candles flying. The phone had ended up on the counter, the corner of the screen cracked.

“Fuck, fuck,” I muttered. “Come on…”

It was dead, but once I’d fumbled the charger into it and pressed the button, it lit up. I’d nearly ground my teeth down to powder just in the fifteen seconds it took to boot.

Notifications started flashing. Three texts and a missed call from Kenny.

Yesterday that would’ve meant something to me. Today, I simply didn’t care. Because I also had a message from the dating app.

Congratulations on taking your first step to love! it read. Cupid is always right, but you’re allowed to make up your own mind. Did you enjoy your date? Swipe up to send a request to be matched with him again!

I swiped up so fast I nearly sprained my thumb.

And then I waited, perfectly still, breath held.

Nothing happened. Nothing whatsofuckingever. Disappointment slammed into my chest, nearly crushing me, and I let my breath out with a whoosh, little spots dancing in my vision.

Okay. Maybe Cupid helped those who helped themselves, or something. After all, I hadn’t gotten my blind date with Xan until I set up the spell. I put my phone down, ignoring the buzz as another text from Kenny came in, and gathered up the spell components, carrying them carefully into the living room. I’d do it as right as I could, and if it didn’t work, I’d make a trip to the store and buy new everything after all.

The living room boasted a scratched-up but nice enough hardwood floor, one of the big selling points of the apartment, and I laid everything out there. Some more rummaging in the bathroom cabinet got me a slightly better set of sandalwood-scented candles that I’d forgotten someone had given me for my birthday last year, and that made the whole setup a bit less amateurish—as long as you squinted enough so you couldn’t see the canned goods.

Everything else I left more or less the same, except…it made me blush so hot you could’ve heated the soup on my face, but I made a little addition to the salt and honey bowl. Xan’s reaction, combined with my new understanding of the spell’s purpose, plus a little more thought in general, had given me a big fat fucking clue about what the text meant by “the supplicant’s sweet salt.” Jerking off into the bowl felt really gross, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to masturbate over a can of smoked oysters, anyway. But thinking about Xan had gotten me half hard, and the tip of my cock was damp with a hint of precome. I slipped my hand inside my boxers and gathered up that bit of moisture, running my damp fingertip around the rim of the bowl.

There. That would have to do.

Gods, I needed this to work. In large part, it was because I kept thinking about Xan, banished back home to his death challenges and thinking I hadn’t cared enough about him to want him to stay. But also—if it didn’t work, I’d be spending my afternoon trying to come in a bowl while staring down a pulsating oyster.

I lit the candles, took a deep breath, and recited the spell, picturing Xan’s smile and imagining the heat of his touch.

The last words of the spell faded into nothingness.

And again, absolutely nothing happened. No app notifications. No tall, gorgeous demons.

I stared down at the crumbled bits of basil, my vision blurring with gathering tears. Gods, the best thing that’d ever come my way, and I’d fucked it up. Of course I had. Maybe Xan was watching me now, trying to pry that door the rest of the way open, uselessly calling my name. Maybe he was as unhappy as I was.

That made it so much fucking worse.

A heavy knock sounded on the door.

I jumped up so fast I nearly fell into the middle of the spell, but I righted myself at the last second and windmilled my way to the door, flinging it open with a smile on my lips and my heart lifting and—there were two men at my door. Both of them heavily muscled, both of them taller than me.

Neither was Xan.

“What the hell, David?” Kenny said, lowering his hand from where he’d lifted it to knock again. He craned his neck. “Do you—are you doing that stupid magic bullshit again? Are you trying to summon a heating pad or something?”

Beside him, Scotty chortled, grinning to show off his unnaturally even teeth. He held up a bundle of fabric wrapped in an electrical cord. “I guess it worked!” he said. “You okay, dude? You’re not wearing pants. Usually people put on pants to open the door.”

“You don’t always put on pants,” Kenny said, looking at Scotty. “Sometimes you wear your briefs. It’s hot. But yeah, David should totally wear pants.”

They both turned back to me—slowly, because they had too much muscle in their necks to be able to rotate their heads without some effort. They looked like someone had Photoshopped one single model into two similar guys for a cheapo gym advertisement: identical haircuts, identical sweatpants and moisture-wicking-shirt combos.

I stared at them in disbelief, irritation warring with humiliation. To my credit, remembering that I’d spent a year sucking Kenny’s cock while he went off and flirted with Scotty was more humiliating than their obvious contempt for my half-clothed body.

But yeah. Not crazy about that, either. I fought the urge to wrap my arms around myself and make myself look even stupider.

A faint cracking sound echoed from inside the apartment, like an almost infinitely distant bolt of lightning. Or the twang of a bow.

Or maybe even a door shutting.

Kenny’s eyes narrowed. “You got someone else here, David?”

Footsteps. There were footsteps behind me, heavy and measured. My heart kicked into overdrive, vibrating down to my bare toes.

I couldn’t turn around. If I turned, and no one was there, I’d die of disappointment, and I’d also look like a fucking idiot. Besides, shock and hope had frozen me in place, paralyzed and with my fingers clenched so hard around the edge of the door I might break them if I tried to move.

A second later, an already-familiar spicy warmth enveloped me, my back heating, my blood pressure lowering.

Even if I hadn’t felt him, I’d have known he was there by the identical expressions of horror, terror, and overwhelming lust on Scotty and Kenny’s faces.

“Oh, shit,” Scotty breathed. “Fuck. This dude is—where do you work out?” He reached down and adjusted himself through his sweatpants, with no shame at all. For fuck’s sake! And they were on me for not wearing pants at all? Why even bother?

“David?” Kenny demanded, his voice going up a whole octave and his eyes huge and round, with the whites showing on all sides. He fell back a step. “How do you—are you—were you cheating on me?”

Was I— “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I sputtered. “Cheating on you? Hello! You were cheating on me for probably the whole time we were together! And you brought him to my doorstep! With—with—my heating pad!” I finished, a bit anticlimactically, but seriously, Scotty was holding my heating pad like it was his to give, the asshole!

I might even have lunged forward, either to grab the heating pad or bitch-slap Kenny, if Xan hadn’t wrapped one demonically strong and muscular arm around my waist and yanked me back against his body.

“I work out by lifting puny little weaklings like you with one hand and flinging you twenty feet up, screaming, to be plucked out of the air and devoured by flying scaled flame-beasts,” Xan said. “And then on my days off, I stay in condition by pleasuring my beautiful David in ways you can’t even imagine. If you ever come back, I’ll rip you limb from limb before I have my morning coffee. Are we clear?”

Kenny’s eyes bulged, and he let out a little, high-pitched, “Uhhhh—uhh,” kind of sound, going pale under his fake tan.

Scotty just stared, but the bulge in his sweatpants got so much bigger. Ewww. I mean, okay, yes. I was hard too, because I could easily picture Xan flinging them both into the maws of flame-beasts and then pleasuring me in ways they couldn’t imagine, and I suddenly wanted to get on my knees, far more eagerly than I ever had for Kenny, and show Xan what I could do to all those curving ridges on his cock with my sweet, soft human tongue.

So I got it, I really did.

But still. Ewww.

“Your—your pecs,” Scotty stammered. “They’re—how? How many reps do you do? What do you bench-press? Tell me what you press!”

“Go away,” Xan said. “I need to be alone with David. And I’m afraid I won’t be able to get it up if I look at you much longer.”

And with that, he tugged me backward through the door and slammed it in Kenny and Scotty’s gaping faces.

“Wait,” I said stupidly. “My heating pad!”

Xan spun me around and backed me up against the door, leaning down, bracing his arms to either side of me. His eyes blazed, a shade of brilliant vermilion that matched his hair. No wonder Kenny had been so scared. Demons weren’t unknown in the human world, but they weren’t exactly common, either. And they were way more intimidating up close.

My urge to get on my knees increased exponentially.

“Do you have any use case for a heating pad that I can’t fulfill?” Xan asked. “I doubt it, but if you do, I’ll buy you another one. Forget the heating pad. You didn’t ask me to stay last night. Did you summon me again on purpose? Or did you—if this is some kind of mistake, tell me now before I make a fool of myself.”

I stared up at him. “Mistake?” I could finally breathe again, now that he was here. His scent and the glint of his fangs as he spoke, and that low, soothing growl of his voice…in less than a day, they’d become familiar. Necessary. Maybe it wasn’t only my eighteen-year-old self that’d been capable of falling hard for a demon if given half a chance. “My only mistake was not understanding that it was a, a magic thing, not a politeness thing. I’m so sorry, Xan. Of course I wanted you to stay. Waking up without you was⁠—”

“Awful,” he said, and swooped down and kissed me.

We hadn’t kissed last night. I hadn’t really missed it, because honestly everything else he’d done to and with me had been overwhelming enough.

How the hell had I not missed it? Gods, he kissed like a—well, like a demon. Hard and fierce, forked tongue tasting and exploring me, hot and agile. His lips were so firm, demanding my obedience to his will.

And his hands on my waist, where they’d landed when he took my mouth, were so gentle. So coaxing, with his thumbs settling into the little dips by my hipbones and his fingers caressing the generous curves of my ass.

Xan lifted his head after one more tiny nip to my lower lip. His eyes still glowed, but they’d settled into a softer color and luminescence. Would I come to know every nuance of his eyes? I hoped so.

He smiled, and I smiled, and he gripped me a little tighter around the waist, and I bit my lip, almost unbearably shy all of a sudden, glancing up at him through my lashes.

“So,” he rumbled. “What now?”

“Um,” I said. “I need to blow out those candles before I burn the place down. And—okay, first things first. I want you to stay. I am asking, telling, and demanding that you stay. Also, I need to go to work later so I don’t lose my job, shit. And. And I really want to suck your cock,” I finished in a rush.

A slow, wicked smile spread across Xan’s face.

He had a dimple in his cheek. Oh, fucking gods of love help me, my giant, terrifying demon had a dimple. The sound I made was pure, helpless surrender, and my knees went so weak I’d have fallen if I wasn’t up against the door with Xan holding me.

“We can make that happen,” he said. “If I go to work with you and help later, do we have time for me to get my cock sucked and also see how many inches of my tongue I can fit up your ass? I didn’t do my best work last night. I was in too much of a hurry to fuck you.”

It wasn’t only my knees. My whole body was going to melt into goo.

“Oh,” I gasped. “Yes. How many inches of tongue do you even have?”

“However many you want,” he said. “I already told you that.” And he kissed me again, pulling me away from the door and toward my bedroom. “Whatever’s going to make you happy.”

It was my turn to stretch up on my toes and kiss him. “I’m pretty sure that’s you,” I whispered.

And that was how I learned how Xan’s eyes glowed when he was happy.

I saw it a lot from then on. And every time, it made me smile. Just for him.

The End

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ELIOT GRAYSON

Eliot's a lifelong Southern California girl, right down to the flip-flops and backyard garden. When she's not writing her next book, you can find her reading, drinking tea, or (more likely) catering to the demands of her kids and ancient, cranky cat.

Steamy books with delicious tension, heart-wrenching pining, and a hefty dose of action and adventure have always been her jam as a reader. Guess what she writes?

Connect with Eliot

Website: eliotgrayson.com

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SWEET TREATS

GRAE BRYAN

CHAPTER ONE

PERRI

Perri bit his lip, his hand reaching toward one plastic container, then the other. He knew he was dithering in the bakery section, but he couldn’t help it.

They were out of lemon cupcakes.

They’d never been out of the lemon before. And now he had to choose: vanilla or carrot cake? The vanilla would pair so well with his beverage of choice, but it was so unimaginative (they didn’t even have sprinkles on them, for sparkles’ sake). And the carrot cake technically doubled as a vegetable, so that was pretty neat, but also…they doubled as a vegetable. What self-respecting pastry did that?

Really, as a proper pixie, Perri should be baking his own cupcakes, but he had things to do today, and he was only half pixie anyway, so that should allow him some shortcuts, shouldn’t it?

Yes, it should.

Perri gave a firm nod, pleased with his reasoning, then went ahead and threw both containers of cupcakes into his bag.

There. Who needed lemon?

He made his way to the register, humming under his breath, and took his place behind an older lady with a roll of coupons in her hand. It would take longer than the other lane, surely, but Perri didn’t mind the wait. He hadn’t dithered nearly as long as he could have, and he and his three items had the time.

He put the little separating bar after his hopeful purchases, and right away a large male hand began placing grocery items after his. Perri watched as eggs, bread, bacon, and cheese piled up, followed by assorted fresh produce.

“Are you making fried egg sandwiches?” he asked eagerly, glancing up. His breath left him in a small huff of surprise as he realized who he was asking: it was Mr. Glasses, in the very flesh.

Perri knew him from around town. Well, he didn’t really know him know him, but he had seen his face often enough. And it was a really nice face. With his wavy dark hair and thick eyebrows and slightly crooked nose, and those very nice lips he often disguised the plushness of by pressing tightly together.

And, of course, the glasses, hence his name.

He wasn’t the only man in town with glasses, obviously. But Perri needed something to call him in his head, because he thought of him maybe too often. He couldn’t help it. Mr. Glasses was just very handsome, and very serious, and Perri had the teeniest, tiniest crush on him.

And he was here!

He was also frowning slightly at Perri, those dark eyebrows furrowed above his glasses. “What?”

Perri blinked at him. “What?”

Mr. Glasses’s frown deepened. “You asked me something just now.”

“Oh yes!” Perri gave him his most winning smile, not letting himself get distracted by how smooth and rich Mr. Glasses’s voice was. “Are you making fried egg sandwiches? I love a good fried egg sandwich.”

The frown intensified. “I’m— Maybe? I don’t know. I could. I’m just getting essentials.”

Perri nodded sedately, trying to match Mr. Glasses’s serious air. “Right, of course. Essentials. Me as well.”

Mr. Glasses’s gaze drifted to Perri’s side of the grocery belt, where his bottle of whiskey stood proudly between his two bakery containers. Perri was glad he’d selected a really quality bottle today.

Mr. Glasses cocked a brow. “Whiskey and cupcakes?”

“Yes,” Perri said, unable to keep a bit of pride from his voice. “Many pixies prefer sweeter beverages, but I’ve been told I have a very refined palate.”

That seemed to leave Mr. Glasses speechless, so Perri took the opportunity to introduce himself. “I’m Perri.”

“I—”

But Perri didn’t get to hear Mr. Glasses’s name, because the cashier’s voice rose in volume just then. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but like I said, this is the wrong brand of milk for this coupon.”

The older lady in front of Perri clutched her hands together. “Oh. Oh my. Well, I⁠—”

Before Perri could speak up and offer to help, Mr. Glasses’s deep voice broke in. “Excuse me. I can grab the right brand for you.”

“Oh, that’s so kind.”

Perri agreed. It was kind. And that was the other reason for Perri’s teeny, tiny crush: Mr. Glasses was always doing the kindest things. Perri had seen him helping carry groceries for a young mother with her hands full, or buying a hot coffee for the houseless man who could often be found downtown. And he tutored teens at the library on weekends, which Perri knew because he led the children’s reading hour at the same time.

But Mr. Glasses wasn’t even a pixie, naturally predisposed to being helpful and cheery-natured. He was human, Perri was 90 percent sure. He was just a good human, the dependable sort who was always doing kind things for the people around him.

Mr. Glasses returned with the milk, and the lady and cashier were pleased, chatting him up like he was a prospective grandson. Perri had hoped to have a few more moments to make a good impression, but then it was his turn, and it would have been rude to ignore the cashier rather than compliment her on her hair color and ask about her day. Then he was all done, they hadn’t spoken any more, and it was time for Perri to drop his purchases off at home before his shift at the animal shelter.

What a lost opportunity.

He was walking up his apartment steps when his phone dinged. It was a notification from the Heart to Heart app he’d signed up for the night before. A dating app. One where the members were supposedly paired by Cupid himself. Or at least a cupid. Perri had been pulled in by a promo promising the perfect date for Valentine’s Day.

Perri had sent his detailed information the night before, and now his mysterious public profile was ready.

As far as he could tell, everyone on the app had a mysterious public profile: no photos, no real name, sparse personal details. It was apparently all about trusting the process. Perri was trying his best to be excited about it. He wanted a match, he really did. More than that, he wanted a partner. Someone dependable and lovely and kind.

An image of Mr. Glasses handing the gallon of milk to the cashier ran through his mind.

But Perri had been trying his best to capture Mr. Glasses’s eye for months now: smiling his best smiles whenever their eyes met and wearing his brightest colors at Children’s Reading Hour when he knew Mr. Glasses would be there. And he’d gotten zippo. Nada. Zilch.

Pixies weren’t really built to make the first move. They were supposed to be charming and winsome and attract attention that way.

But it hadn’t been working for Perri very well. Not with Mr. Glasses, surely, and the men Perri did attract were never the right sort. He was tired of flash-in-the-pan partners who didn’t want anything real. People who thought that because Perri liked sparkles and cupcakes and dancing in the moonlight, he’d be okay with short flings lasting barely a few weeks.

His app dinged again, asking him if he was ready to go live with his profile. If he was ready to be matched.

Perri pressed the green button.

He was ready.

CHAPTER TWO

TOBIAS

Tobias stepped up to the register, unable to keep his gaze from drifting to follow the petite form flouncing off with his ridiculous purchases.

Perri.

Tobias had seen him around, of course. It was hard to miss him with that hair. Tobias wasn’t sure of the right word for it—that color somewhere between purple and blue, not too dark but not too pale. Natural, most likely, seeing as how Tobias had never seen it fade, never spotted any light or dark roots peeking their way through.

Not that he was keeping track, or anything. It was, just…well, the whole hard-to-miss thing. Perri—and Tobias had guessed long ago the guy was either pixie or part, even before the grocery store admission—had that way about him, all smiles and cheery greetings, charming everyone around him in a way Tobias was physically incapable of.

And he was pretty. Tobias would have to be blind or deluded not to admit it, what with those bright eyes and sharp chin and little sloped nose.

And Tobias had a weakness for pretty things.

But what of it? Tobias forced his focus back on the task at hand, paying for his purchases with full politeness, if not the natural charm of the creature who’d come before him. He had things to do today; he couldn’t go getting distracted by gorgeous pixie types, or the question of whether he was really off to have whiskey and cupcakes for breakfast.

He took his groceries home and gave Mr. Tibbins the appropriate head scratches, apologizing in his own way that they wouldn’t be spending the morning on the couch, watching nature documentaries. Mr. Tibbins’s purr seemed to imply forgiveness, but who could say for sure?

Then Tobias made his way to the office, throwing a cardigan over his button-down and counting that as enough formality, seeing as how it was Saturday, after all. He settled at his desk, letting himself get lost in the forms he’d set aside to finish that morning. It would be enough to give him a head start on Monday.

He had no idea how long had passed when a sharp, feminine voice broke through his concentration. “Liar!”

Tobias lifted his head, blinking the woman across the desk from him into focus. “Laura?”

“Don’t ‘Laura’ me. I believe you told me—nay, promised me—you’d be staying away from the office this weekend.”

“Did I?” Tobias removed his glasses, polishing them on his shirt thoroughly—excessively so—in the hope to buy himself time to compose a response to this…office booby trap. “And what are you doing here?” he finally came up with.

There.

“I have a few things to catch up on,” Laura admitted. She was perched backward on one of the rolling office chairs, and was definitely going to fall off onto her butt if she wasn’t careful, which Tobias might have warned her of if he weren’t feeling persnickety at the interruption.

“But!” Laura raised a finger to ward off any accusation of hypocrisy. “That’s because I have vacation next week. Vacation, Tobias. Ever heard of it?”

“It’s a French word, is it?” he asked mildly, just to be snide.

She slumped over the chair in an exaggerated show of exasperation. “Tobias. I was hoping you’d enjoy your weekend. Do something fun. Something exciting, even!”

“I will enjoy my weekend,” Tobias countered. “I have tutoring later.” He ignored her as she grumbled something rude. “And then a movie.”

Laura straightened from her slump abruptly. “Going out?”

“Um…” Tobias shrugged.

He was trying his best not to get irritated. Laura meant well, he knew. And they’d always been friendly enough. They could possibly even be considered actual friends. But she seemed to find something wrong with his lifestyle.

And, really, what was so terrible with him being a homebody? Why was it okay for people with partners and families but not for Tobias? Did Mr. Tibbins count for nothing?

“How are you going to meet someone if you never go anywhere?” Laura bemoaned.

Oh, right. That. The real reason Laura pestered him. Because Tobias had confessed—in a drunken haze at one of the rare office happy hours he’d actually attended—that he desperately wanted to meet someone. And not just meet. Keep.

And apparently neither working at the office nor tutoring stubborn teens at the library was the way to do so.

Tobias’s brain flashed him an image of blue-purple hair and a bright smile.

But no. No, no, no. That was Tobias’s problem. He was attracted to pretty, shiny men, and it always backfired. They’d suffer him for a week or two and then inevitably, regretfully inform him that he was too…insert adjective here.

Too boring. Too serious. Too eager.

He didn’t want a bright, shiny fling anymore. He wanted someone real. Someone loyal. Someone who would stay.

So no flighty pixies, no matter how beguiling their smiles.

Tobias blinked as manicured fingers snapped in front of his face.

“Tobias.” Laura gave him a stern look. “I have a solution for you. Give me your phone.”

Tobias took his phone from the desk and tossed it into her hands, too weary to argue anymore. “What are you going to do with it? Delete my crossword app in the hopes that I’ll pursue something more exciting?”

“I’m not deleting anything, I’m installing something. A dating app.”

Tobias pinched the bridge of his nose. “Laura.”

“It’s supposed to be the real deal! Actual Cupid matches you. No more guesswork, no more duds.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe I’m the dud?”

Laura gave him the fiercest glare he’d ever seen. “No. You’re lovely. You just have terrible taste in men. Hopefully this will help.” She handed back his phone, an unfamiliar screen pulled up. “Fill out the questionnaire.”

Tobias sighed, accepting the phone without looking too closely. “When I get home.”

“Nuh-uh.” Laura shook her head. “While I’m here to see you do it. You can finish those forms after.”

Tobias gave her a halfhearted glare. “How does your wife even put up with you?”

“She adores me beyond belief, and you’re stalling.”

He sighed again, just to put his point across, and began filling out the questionnaire.

Trust Cupid, huh? He supposed he couldn’t do any worse. He’d be paired with another office drone, undoubtedly. Maybe they’d find out they wear identical glasses prescriptions. They’d switch them up accidentally and discuss accounting algorithms, and it would all be⁠—

A bright smile, a flutter of eyelashes, a melodic voice asking about egg sandwiches.

Tobias shook his head fiercely.

It would all be absolutely perfect.

CHAPTER THREE

PERRI

Perri was in the middle of Children’s Reading Hour when his phone let out an unfamiliar chime. Luckily it was quiet enough the children didn’t hear—the only reason Perri could make it out over his own voice was his slightly heightened pixie hearing—and he was able to finish the tale of the misunderstood dragon saving the stubborn prince from his evil family with their full attention.

“And they lived happily ever after,” he finished dreamily, sighing with pleasure at the fairy-tale ending.

Perri loved happy ever afters. He frankly couldn’t understand anyone who didn’t. It was all there in the very words: happy, forever, usually together. What was there not to love?

And the children all seemed to agree, clamoring excitedly together as Perri rose from his seat and said his hellos to the parents he recognized, one little fae girl floating off the ground in her enthusiasm before her mother tugged her gently back down to earth by one ankle.

Perri’s phone was burning a hole in his pocket all the while, but he waited until he was in the storage room where the story hour props were held before he took it out to check. It was, as he’d thought, a notification from H2H.

He had a match.

Perri’s breath caught in his throat. Who was his match? What would he be like? What might his favorite kind of cupcake be?

He swiped to the profile as fast as his suddenly clumsy thumbs would allow. There wasn’t much to see. The app still didn’t show a real name or any photos, just an incredibly brief bio.

Username: NumbersGuy

Age: 36

Looking for: Serious relationship

Likes: Nature documentaries, rainy days, loyalty

Dislikes: Board shorts, rudeness, cruelty

Perri took a second to consider whether he’d ever worn board shorts. Maybe in his teens? He hoped that didn’t disqualify him from consideration. On the other hand, he was never, ever rude or cruel, so he had that going for him.

After staring at the screen for who knew how long, trying to will more information to appear, he tucked his phone back into his pocket before placing his props in the appropriate box absent-mindedly. He had been made to fill out such a comprehensive questionnaire, yet the app showed so little of his intended match.

But that was part of it, wasn’t it? Trusting in Cupid. And Perri wanted to, he really did. He’d even selected the face-to-face option: the app would choose a place and time for their first date, no messaging between the two of them beforehand. There was still time for an initial meeting before Valentine’s Day.

Perri placed a hand on his stomach, trying to still the butterflies going off inside. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden?

The door of the storage room opened, and Jonathan, the children’s librarian, poked his head in, graciously ignoring Perri’s startled yelp at the intrusion. “Perri? What’s up? You hiding in here?”

Perri lifted the prop box to place it back onto its shelf. “Just catching my breath.”

“Well, your beau is about to head out, if you wanted a last chance to spy.”

“That’s—” Perri dropped the box onto the shelf with a too-loud thud. “I don’t— What— Who?”

Jonathan let him sputter, waiting until Perri had run out of disjointed words before continuing, just as mildly as ever, “That tutor guy you pretend not to stare at? He’s heading out.”

Perri did not stare. Or, at least, he usually didn’t. It was possible he’d been staring a little bit today. He’d hoped their interaction in the grocery store—as brief as it had been—might have paved the way for more conversation. Perhaps a friendly wink or passionate kiss behind the bookshelves.

But the one time he’d managed to catch the guy’s eye across the library floor, giving him a hopeful smile, Mr. Glasses’s gaze had slid right past him, like Perri wasn’t even there. And, to be fair, Perri had been wearing a felt dragon head and matching tail at the time, so perhaps that had been confusing, but his face had still been visible.

Maybe it was time to accept that Mr. Glasses wasn’t interested in him. Maybe he wasn’t into men at all. Or pixies. Maybe he had something against beauty and charm and strangers who wanted to climb him like a tree.

Perri gave the prop box a last, firm pat. He straightened his spine, lifting his chin to meet Jonathan’s eye. “I have no need for further staring,” he declared as solemnly as he could.

Jonathan blinked at him. “All right.”

“In fact—” Perri waved a dignified hand. “I have a date to get ready for.”

Jonathan nodded slowly, stepping further into the room for the first time. “Good for you, man. When? Tonight?”

Perri shot a glance to his darkened phone screen. “I don’t know when.”

He and NumbersGuy both had to accept the match before the app would tell them the time and place for their meeting.

Jonathan was predictably unfazed by Perri’s vagueness. “Cool, cool. What are you doing for it?”

“I have no idea. But, Jonathan—” Perri clasped his hands together, lifting his chin. “I need to look amazing.”

Jonathan only shrugged. “You always look good.”

“Yes, well—” Perri let himself grin, just a little bit, before wiping his features back into the appropriately serious expression. “I repeat: I need to look amazing.”

“Okay, well…” Jonathan’s gaze searched the storage room, as if the solution would lie there. “Did you want to borrow that dragon hat?”

CHAPTER FOUR

TOBIAS

Tobias was in the middle of tutoring Sarah—a teen who, despite declaring French “the stupidest language in the history of the universe,” needed two more years of it for her high school requirements—when his phone went off with an unfamiliar ding.

He knew what it was.

He ignored it. It was an unnecessary distraction when he needed to focus on Sarah’s…creative views on verb conjugation.

And, to tell the truth, he already had one unnecessary distraction, in the form of a certain pretty pixie from the grocery store, who kept trying to catch his eye from under an absurd felt dragon head he’d clearly donned for story time.

It should have made him look ridiculous, but it somehow only made him more adorable. It was taking all Tobias’s strength to let his gaze glide over rather than linger. He was less successful when the pixie turned around and Tobias was suddenly privy to the way the matching dragon tail swished along with the pixie’s hips. And from his hips, it was easy enough for his eyes to travel to…

Oh God, Tobias was a perv, wasn’t he? He was a library perv. He should be banned.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Tobias turned with a jerk toward Sarah, whose eyes were not on her French homework. “Pardon?”

Sarah tilted her chin to the children’s corner. “The story time guy.”

Tobias gaped at her for a moment, unable to think of anything to say. Was his library perviness so obvious?

“I like the way he dresses up for the kids,” Sarah continued, undeterred by his silence. “That’s a major green flag, you know.”

Tobias cleared his throat, trying to summon his dignity. “Can you say that in French?” Sarah’s scowl was answer enough. “All right, then. Let’s return to our work, shall we?”

Tobias couldn’t afford to be distracted by adorable pixies with supposed green flags. He’d made his decision: he was only going to be interested in serious people, in search of serious partners. No more flirty, flighty men who’d drop him the second they realized his initial personality wasn’t a front for some inner freak just dying to get out. Tobias had even made his username, the one part of his profile he could control, as boring as possible: NumbersGuy.

They needed to know what they were going to get. A boring accountant with a boring life who wanted another boring person to keep him company for it.

It wasn’t until Tobias finished his appointment with Sarah and left the library—determinedly not seeking out any adorable dragons as he did so—that he checked his phone in the safety of his car.

He had a match, if the app was to be believed. Tobias’s lips quirked up a bit at the username. The man was either very confident or a little tongue in cheek. Tobias perused the rest of the brief profile.

Username: MarriageMaterial

Age: 32

Looking for: Serious relationship

Likes: Movement, beauty, naps

Dislikes: Arrogance, sarcasm, dark chocolate

Tobias could work with all that, right? He may not have been a beauty himself, but he appreciated beautiful things. And what was better than a rainy-day nap, preferably cuddled up with another warm body?

He felt a rush of something awfully close to hope go through him.

What if this worked? What if, thanks to this ridiculous dating app, Tobias really met someone? Another boring office drone, maybe, but they could still find some happiness together, couldn’t they?

He hit accept as fast as his shaky thumb would allow, then let out a long, slow breath and started the car. Before he had a chance to shift into gear, the app dinged with another message. It was tomorrow’s date, with a time and place.

A date for their date. Tomorrow. A coffee shop Tobias vaguely recognized the name of. Oh. Oh damn. It was happening already. Panic sliced through him, cutting through the giddiness of a moment ago, and he ended up driving home faster than was strictly safe.

“Mr. Tibbins!” he called out, rushing through the door. “Mr. Tibbins, it’s an emergency!”

The big tabby cat blinked at him, budging not even a bit from his perch on the windowsill.

“We need to choose our clothes,” Tobias continued. “Well, my clothes.” Another slow blink from Mr. Tibbins. “Even if it is tomorrow, we need to be prepared.”

He spent the next half hour poring through his closet. There were plenty of slacks and various button-downs in muted colors. Boring. It was all so boring.

But then again, that was the point, wasn’t it? He wasn’t going to pretend to be something he wasn’t. He sighed and picked out a pair of slacks and a burgundy shirt that he was pretty sure looked nice with his coloring. That would have to do.

He had nothing better to offer, did he?

* * *

TOBIAS

Tobias didn’t sleep well.

He had strange dreams of meeting himself at the coffee shop, of being his own date. Of dating himself. Of marrying himself, matching slacks and all.

He rose much earlier than usual, unsettled by it all, before Mr. Tibbins even had a chance to cry at him for his morning meal.

He took the extra time to make himself a proper omelet and toast for breakfast—he had to shake the enthusiastic question “Do you like fried egg sandwiches?” out of his brain as he did so—hoping that eating something substantial would help curb the butterflies beginning to take residence in his stomach.

He decided to walk to the coffee shop for the same reason—nothing like a brisk stroll to lessen useless anxiety—as it was only some twenty minutes from his apartment. It was a crisp, cool morning, and the fresh air did him good, helping pull Tobias the rest of the way out of the strange funk his dreams had left him in.

So what if Cupid had matched him and this mystery suitor together? It was still just a date, like any other. And if it didn’t go well…Tobias would just be alone for the rest of his life, that was all. And that was fine. He’d get a lot of work done. He’d go down in history as the most prolific accountant of his generation.

He walked into the coffee shop with as much confidence as he could muster. They hadn’t been required to wear anything distinguishing—no yellow roses stuffed into buttonholes or nonsense of that sort—because their phones were supposed to buzz when they were in close enough proximity.

The place was crowded, which was to be expected for a Sunday. He walked past the line at the counter, keeping one eye on his phone even as he searched through the swarm of patrons. When he’d reached the very back of the coffee shop, a mix of small couches and tables of dark wood, his phone began buzzing.

Two people were standing over a table, but neither seemed to be the culprit as far as he could tell.

Tobias peered around them to the table occupant hidden by the two bodies.

He was greeted by a bright smile, a sharp chin, and that cursed hair, all in one pretty package—a pretty package holding up a buzzing phone.

“Oh,” said the familiar voice, coming out of that familiar face, sounding unaccountably delighted.

Tobias could only stare. “Oh” was right. It was the pixie.

The pixie was MarriageMaterial.

CHAPTER FIVE

PERRI

Oh. Oh, sweet, sugary biscuits. This was better than anything Perri could have predicted or hoped for. Mr. Glasses, in the flesh, buzzing phone in hand, finally giving Perri his full, undivided attention.

Perri beamed up at him with his best, brightest smile. “NumbersGuy?” he asked hopefully.

“Um.” Mr. Glasses blinked at him, looking stunned. And, to be fair, Perri had really done his best to look stunning. He had on his rainbow-striped sweater and sparkliest bucket hat. “You’re…MarriageMaterial?”

“Oh yes.” Those words—marriage material—sounded so good coming out of Mr. Glasses’s mouth. Maybe it had been a bit bold of Perri, but he’d wanted to make it very clear: he was not a two-week fling. He was in it to win it.

And now? With Mr. Glasses standing right in front of him, looking like a tall glass of nearsighted water? Perri was in it to blow the rest of the competition out of the freaking water.

He gestured to the seat across from him. “Won’t you sit? I’m Perri, in case you don’t remember.”

“Tobias.” But Mr. Glasses—Tobias—didn’t sit. “I—” He paused there, still staring, before he seemed to shake himself out of whatever shocked state he was in and started over. “Can I get you a coffee?”

“Oh, yes please. A decaf latte with three pumps of caramel, two pumps of vanilla, and extra whipped cream, please.”

Now Tobias was staring again, an expression Perri couldn’t read on his face.

“You should never give a pixie caffeine, you know,” Perri explained.

He’d tried it just the once, and he’d been up for two days straight. By the end of it, his apartment had been covered in glitter and loose Skittles, and he’d given away half of his most beloved plants to complete strangers.

“Right.” Tobias gave him a stilted nod before turning and walking up to the back of the line. Perri watched him as best as he could through the crowd. He looked so good—tall and well-dressed, with a ramrod-straight posture, his hair so thick and dark Perri wanted nothing more than to sink his fingers into it.

And he was here for Perri.

Perri hurriedly adjusted his hat, smoothing his sweater down with suddenly sweaty hands. He needed to make a good impression today. The best impression, really.

When Tobias sat down, Perri beamed up at him again, trying to look as cool and comfortable as possible. No sweaty hands here.

Tobias pushed Perri’s mug toward him, gathering his own close. From the smell of it, he’d gotten black coffee for himself. How distinguished.

Tobias sipped his coffee, then cleared his throat. “So. We’ve seen each other before.”

“Yes,” Perri confirmed brightly, and maybe he sounded much too eager, but he couldn’t help it. “At the library, for one. I read to the kids, and you tutor the teens.”

Tobias pushed his glasses up from where they’d slid down his nose. It was a surprisingly adorable gesture, and Perri’s heart thumped in his chest to witness it. “Exactly. Um…how long have you been reading to them?”

“Oh, ages.” Perri took a small sip of his drink, humming at the sweetness. “Ever since my retirement.”

“Retirement. You don’t work?”

Perri shrugged. “Well, I did. But I developed an app, one that matches pixies wanting to do good deeds with humans needing stuff done. You know, like errands or chores or just something to cheer them up. Someone offered to buy it a few years ago, and I haven’t needed to work since.”

“And you don’t mind, um, the lack of routine?”

“I keep myself busy,” Perri insisted. He didn’t want Tobias to think he was some layabout. It would go against his very nature, as both a pixie and a person. “There’s the library and the animal shelter, and I use my own app, you know. I have a standing appointment with Mrs. Wilson to make pies.”

Tobias’s lips twitched. “Your good deed is making pies?”

“Well, her arthritis doesn’t allow her to make them anymore, and she has these family recipes but no family to hand them down to. So I make them, and we eat some and give away others.”

And then Perri was being treated to a real, honest smile. “That’s…really lovely, actually.”

Tobias’s smile was lovely. Perri’s heart thumped again. He was in real trouble here.

“One of your likes was movement. You’re into fitness? But you eat whiskey and cupcakes for breakfast?”

“I like movement, not fitness,” Perri clarified, more than a little pleased that Tobias had remembered his grocery order. “I can like things like yoga and dancing and not live on tofu and broccoli, can’t I?”

Tobias’s smile deepened. “I guess you can.”

But Perri had been talking too much about himself, hadn’t he? “And you work?” he asked politely.

Tobias’s smile dropped, and his back straightened. “I’m an accountant,” he said, almost stiffly.

“Oh.” Perri had never been the best at math, and here this human did math for a living. “You must be very smart.”

Tobias shrugged a shoulder, but his posture didn’t relax. “Just with numbers.”

“Is that what you tutor your teens in? Math?”

“Um, no…” Perri watched in fascination as a faint blush stained Tobias’s cheeks. “I tutor them in French. I, um, studied abroad in college. And it’s such a beautiful language.” Tobias toyed with the handle of his coffee mug, his gaze fixed on his drink. “I have a weakness for beautiful things,” he said, more mumble than declaration.

He lifted his head suddenly, meeting Perri’s eye. “What color would you call your hair?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

Perri blinked in surprise. “Periwinkle. You know, like my name? My parents went very literal with the naming. But I go by Perri for short. Like Toby for Tobias.”

Tobias gave one sharp shake of his head. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Toby…isn’t a nickname for Tobias?”

“No.”

“What about…Tobester? Toberine? Tobalicious?”

And there—a twitch of Tobias’s lips. “Absolutely not.”

Perri grinned at him. They were flirting. This was officially the best date ever. “Fair enough. Tobias only.”

They sipped their drinks in comfortable silence for a moment, and Perri was delighted to see that Tobias finally seemed a bit more relaxed with him. He wasn’t doing anything that could remotely be called slouching, but he wasn’t holding himself quite so stiffly either.

Then Tobias fixed him with an intimidatingly serious look. “Are you—you’re looking for a serious relationship?”

“Oh! Oh yes.” Perri nodded forcefully.

Tobias’s brow furrowed, the man looking almost skeptical. “Have you been in one before?”

“Not exactly. So far things have always been…brief. I guess boredom is an issue,” Perri mused, thinking of all the men who’d been pulled in by his charm and then lost interest.

Tobias stiffened, as if Perri had just said the wrong thing. Well, stiffened as much as he was able. The man really did have excellent posture. “I’m looking for serious. I can’t take on any more…flighty men.”

Flighty men, Perri mouthed to himself. He cocked his head. “I don’t have wings, you know. Not all pixies do. And I’m only half.”

Tobias shook his head, frowning into his coffee. “It’s just… You seem to live a very whimsical life. And I’m—I’m looking for someone willing to stay. Someone who won’t leave on a whim. Someone who won’t get bored.” He said the last word harshly, as if it had personally offended him.

Perri stared at him, taken aback by this sudden takedown of his character, and as he did so, certain things began to come together. How Tobias had never given in to his charms. How uncomfortable he’d seemed when he’d spotted Perri as his date for the afternoon.

Tobias wasn’t just shy, was he?

Perri flinched, hurt washing through him. “You think I’m silly, don’t you?” he asked softly.

And he was silly, wasn’t he? Because why had he thought Tobias would by any different? Why had he thought that just because Tobias was dependable and serious, he’d be able to see the same in Perri?

And maybe Tobias realized exactly how much he’d just wounded him, because he stopped frowning into his coffee and his eyes widened in alarm. “No, that’s not⁠—”

Perri straightened in his seat. “I am what I am. I like glitter and children’s stories and the freedom of not having to work five days a week. But just because I can be silly or frivolous doesn’t mean I’m a silly or frivolous person. I want love. Real love. Do I not deserve that?”

Tobias reached out a hand, as if to grab onto Perri’s. “No. I mean, of course you do. I just⁠—”

Perri slid his hand out of reach, frowning down at his half-finished drink. “This was a mistake. I should be going. Thank you for the coffee, Mr. Glasses.”

And he left the coffee shop.

CHAPTER SIX

TOBIAS

Tobias sat, regret heavy in his chest as he watched the pixie scurry out of the coffee shop.

He’d just fucked up beyond belief, hadn’t he?

He’d been on a date—a nice date—with someone sweet and kind who was actually looking for long-term love, and he’d let his insecurities get the best of him. And he’d apparently offended the hell out of Perri in the meantime.

What was wrong with him? Was he really so jaded he was at the point of pushing people away before they even had a chance to wrong him? Tobias frowned down at his coffee, as if it might hold the answers.

It would have been another matter if Perri had been some sort of walking red flag. But he wasn’t, was he?

Perri was a catch. He was clearly smart, seeing as how he’d developed an app successful enough to send him into early retirement. He was industrious and caring, filling his free time with volunteering and good deeds. He was pretty as all hell, with Tobias only having to look at him full-on to want to be kissing him (which hadn’t helped his awkwardness at all, now had it?). And worst of all (best of all?) he’d actually been into Tobias; he’d appeared to be genuinely delighted to see him as his date, all beaming smiles and fluttering lashes.

Tobias was an idiot.

He downed the rest of his lukewarm beverage and slunk out of the coffee shop, barely feeling the chill of the walk home. Mr. Tibbins greeted him loudly, possibly sensing something was off.

Tobias stooped to pet him. “I’ve messed up terribly,” he admitted, scratching behind Mr. Tibbins’s ears.

It may have been the word boring that had set him off in the moment, but what had been scarier was the growing realization over the course of their date that maybe Tobias could have exactly what he wanted. Before seeing Perri at that coffee shop table, Tobias had been lulled into the false comfort of giving up. He’d accepted that the type of men he was attracted to were not the kind that wanted to keep him, and he’d reconciled himself with having to date…well, himself.

And then Perri had appeared, exactly his type, trying to show him that didn’t have to be true.

Tobias gathered Mr. Tibbins into his arms. “I panicked,” he told him, crossing over to the couch. “And I hurt his feelings.”

Unfazed by Tobias’s admittance, Mr. Tibbins purred heartily, and Tobias settled in to distract himself with whatever was on the nature channel. His failed date didn’t have to be a big deal. He’d been hopeless before; so what if he was hopeless again?

But now he couldn’t help thinking, as he watched a brightly colored bird dance for its perspective mate—would Perri like this?

He probably would, wouldn’t he? He volunteered with animals, after all. And they most likely adored him too; he had that sort of innate warmth and gentleness that seemed less to do with him being a pixie and more to do with him as a person.

And thinking about whether Perri would like the show led to Tobias thinking about what else they might watch together. That one English baking show, probably. Perri liked baked goods, and the sweet camaraderie of the contestants would probably appeal to him.

And then, instead of an armful of cat, Tobias would have an armful of pixie. Perri was the perfect size, after all, to curl up in his lap, that periwinkle hair tickling at his nose.

And Perri wouldn’t mind the cheesy things either, would he? Tobias had seen the way he enthusiastically dressed up in whatever costumes would most enhance story time for the kids. He wouldn’t scoff at the things Tobias had always been too nervous to bring up with previous boyfriends. Like the possibility of wearing matching Christmas pajamas, maybe, or buying one of those giant teddy bears for Valentine’s Day.

A holiday that was in two days. A holiday Tobias would be spending alone.

His phone dinged at the next commercial, and Tobias managed to fish it out of his pocket without disrupting Mr. Tibbins. It was the app.

Would you like a second date?

He would. Of course he would. But Perri wouldn’t, would he?

Tobias tapped Yes anyway. Maybe he’d luck out; maybe Perri would have very selective amnesia and forget the terrible end to their date and agree to give him another chance. And if not…there was always the library, wasn’t there? Tobias could apologize to him next weekend. He could even explain himself, how insecure he’d become, although the potential vulnerability of that prospect had him gripping Mr. Tibbins too tightly, until he squirmed out of Tobias’s arms.

Tobias was just chasing everyone away today, wasn’t he?

* * *

PERRI

“Do you think I’m frivolous?”

Jonathan didn’t look up from his restocking cart, although his brow furrowed slightly as he slid a book onto its appropriate shelf. “Is that one lady at the craft store giving you a hard time again?”

“Who, Mirabel?” Perri waved a hand in the air. “No, I bedazzled a handbag for her. We get along splendidly now.”

“Then why are you asking silly questions?”

Perri swung his legs against the chair he’d pulled over. “Maybe I ask silly questions because I’m a silly person.”

Now Jonathan did look up. “Who told you that? That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? I was in here dressed in a child’s dragon costume just yesterday.”

“You were doing that for the kids. For a volunteer shift you’ve never once not shown up for, even when maybe you shouldn’t have…” Jonathan trailed off, possibly thinking of the time Perri had tried caffeine the day before and shown up absolutely wired, read the story three times his normal speed, then dumped a glitter bomb all over the library floor. “You’re not frivolous, you’re…playful. That’s not a bad thing.”

He seemed to realize for the first time that Perri was there on a day he normally wouldn’t be, and his gaze sharpened. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Perri shrugged, trying to come off casual. “Just a bad date.”

“Oh.” Jonathan relaxed. “Well, you’ve survived those before.”

Perri slumped down with a sigh, immediately giving up his pretense of nonchalance. “But I really liked this guy.”

“And he called you silly and frivolous?”

“Not exactly.” Perri twisted his fingers together. “But it was strongly implied. He doubted my sincere desire for a serious relationship.”

Jonathan cocked a brow. “And why did he doubt that?”

“Only because I’ve never had one before,” Perri told him, indignant. “It’s very unfair of him.”

Jonathan hummed his agreement, but something in his body language had Perri narrowing his eyes.

“What?”

“It is maybe unfair, but…” Jonathan paused, hesitant, and Perri motioned for him to continue. “Well, you’re very charming. And quite pretty.” Perri beamed at him for that, but Jonathan shook his head. “I’m not saying it to inflate your ego, just that it can be intimidating. Maybe he was feeling insecure.”

Insecure? Mr. Glasses? It seemed inconceivable to Perri. The man was perfect, ticking all Perri’s boxes. All handsome and kind and responsible. Hadn’t he seen how he’d had Perri eating out of the palm of his hand?

It had been so hurtful to realize Tobias didn’t take him seriously when Perri had been trying so hard to make a good impression. But then, Tobias hadn’t exactly said that, had he? He’d only told Perri what he wasn’t looking for…

Was it a lack of confidence, like Jonathan had said? After all, Perri had let his own insecurities get the best of him, taking immediate offense at Tobias’s words and flouncing off without another word.

Point made, Jonathan resumed shelving his books. “I mean, if the guy was a jerk to you, obviously you should forget it.”

Perri straightened, defensive of Tobias even now. “He wasn’t a jerk exactly. But I left in a huff. I doubt he’d—” Perri’s phone dinged, and he stopped midsentence to tug it out of his pocket.

It was the app, asking him if he wanted a second date.

Surely Tobias would have answered no. He’d said he didn’t want a flighty guy, and then Perri had immediately taken flight. But maybe…

Perri hit Yes. He wasn’t going to be a coward, not when it came to this.

An immediate second notification popped up: Congratulations! You have a Valentine’s date! February 14, 2:00 p.m., Downtown Valentine’s Fair.

Perri squealed before he knew it, clasping a hand over his mouth and making apologetic eyebrows at Jonathan when he realized how loud he’d been. “I have a second date!” he yell-whispered. “Mr. Glasses wants to see me again.”

Jonathan froze, the book he’d been about to shelve held in midair. “Wait. Mr. Glasses was your bad date?”

“Well, it wasn’t all bad, just⁠—”

Jonathan nodded slowly, replacing the book. “Okay, now it’s making sense.”

“What is?”

“I mean, that guy, he’s a little…”

“Dreamy?” Perri offered, sighing in agreement.

“Um. Yeah, sure.” Jonathan gave a small laugh. “You know what, never mind. Just remember not all of us have your confidence. He might need some…reassurance? That a guy like you is into a guy like him.”

Perri still didn’t know what Jonathan was getting at. “A guy like him? Tall, dark, and handsome?”

Jonathan turned to face him. “Perri. He wears, like, starched button-down shirts. To the public library. On the weekend.”

“Yeah, he looks pretty dashing in them, doesn’t he?”

Jonathan mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “hopeless,” then began reshelving in earnest, pointedly ignoring Perri for the rest of his task.

Perri didn’t mind. He had a second date to prepare for.

CHAPTER SEVEN

TOBIAS

Tobias gripped his offering nervously, eyeing the block—which had been barricaded from cars for the street fair—lined with booths and meandering pedestrians.

It wasn’t long until he saw a familiarly colored head of hair bobbing through the crowd, and before he knew it, Perri was in front of him, a bright-red coat covering his petite form, smiling as sweetly as ever. “Hello, Tobias.”

“Hi, Perri.” Tobias’s voice came out gruffer than he’d have liked, and he cleared his throat as he thrust his arm out. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Perri’s eyes widened as he took in the gift.

It was silly, Tobias knew. A stuffed pink bear holding a sparkly heart. But he’d seen it at one of the booths and decided Perri had to have it. He scratched at his neck with his free hand, hoping Perri could see the gift was heartfelt, if a bit cheesy. “I wanted to get you one of those really ridiculous giant ones, but I thought it might be a pain to carry around.”

“Oh, but it’s perfect!” Perri gushed, grabbing the bear and clutching it to his chest. “His name will be Bertram.”

Tobias allowed himself a brief smile at the sight, then forced himself to say what needed to be said. “I’m sorry if I said something stupid or—or hurtful, our last date.”

Perri hummed noncommittally, cuddling the little teddy bear, before he peered up at Tobias through thick lashes. “I should say something.”

Tobias’s heart skipped a beat. Of course a silly teddy bear wasn’t going to be enough. Was Perri going to tell him he’d screwed up? Had he accepted this second date as some sort of friendly peace offering to avoid future awkwardness, just because they were going to keep running into each other?

Oblivious to the palpitations he was causing, Perri smiled shyly up at him. He looked unfairly kissable for someone who may have been about to break Tobias’s heart. “I don’t know you very well, but I like you a lot. From what I’ve seen, at least. How helpful and kind you are and… Well, um—I would have said yes to a date from you, even without the app. I’ve been hoping for a chance to say yes to a date from you, actually.” Then, as if he was afraid Tobias wouldn’t understand, he said, “I have a crush on you.”

Tobias’s face suddenly felt quite hot. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Perri’s eyes widened in delight. “Oh, you’re blushing! That’s so cute. You’re cute.”

Tobias could only stare like an idiot. “I am?”

Perri cocked his head, studying him. “You don’t know? Maybe Jonathan was right.” Tobias didn’t know what that meant, but then Perri was holding out his hand, reaching for Tobias. “Shall we explore the fair, then?”

Tobias grasped the offered palm. Perri’s hand was slight but strong, and absurdly warm considering the chill in the air. Tobias was pretty sure he looked like a dope, with how wide he was now grinning, but it couldn’t be helped.

They spent the next few hours touring the different amusements the little fair had to offer. There was a local witch telling love fortunes, someone Perri evidently knew personally. (“Oh, she’s lovely. I’ve bought some wonderful potions from her before.”) A dragon shifter blowing glass using his own flame, with a horde of mesmerized children crowding his booth. A dryad family selling wood carvings, with a note that all their offerings were “humanely harvested.”

They shared hot chocolate and kettle corn and voted on their favorite booths. Perri was wonderful company. He had a way of getting anyone he met to give their life story, and he managed to seem genuinely interested in each and every one (probably because he was genuinely interested, often musing enthusiastically about each new friend once he and Tobias left their side). He laughed easily and often but never seemed to mind that Tobias was more subdued in his reactions (“I can tell you’re enjoying yourself, Tobias,” he teased. “You have that certain twinkle in your eye.”) He managed to make Tobias feel seen but not scrutinized, accepted but in no way looked over.

And in his element like this—chatting, charming, flitting from booth to booth in his red coat—he was so beautiful it hurt. Tobias wanted to take him into his arms, cover him in kisses, show him in action what he might find hard to say in words. But they were in public, so he made do with the fact that Perri had never once let go of his hand.

By the time they reached the end of it all, it was starting to get dark, but Tobias was unable to imagine letting Perri leave. “We could get dinner?” he asked hopefully.

Perri bit at his lip, considering. “It’s Valentine’s Day. It might be tough to get a table.”

“Then I’ll cook for you,” Tobias offered quickly, hoping he didn’t come across as desperate as he felt. “You could—you could come over.”

Perri’s eyes sharpened at that, a new heat filling them, and Tobias belatedly remembered pixies had a thing about being fed by those close to them. It was something related to olden times, when they’d been left little cakes and treats as rewards for work done around a human’s house.

“Is that too much?” he asked, not wanting to rescind his offer but also not wanting to accidentally give offense by presuming too much too soon.

“Oh no,” Perri breathed, his hand tightening around Tobias’s. “I’d like that very much.”

“Perfect.” Tobias’s face was doing that thing again, where his cheeks were hurting from grinning too wide. “What about breakfast for dinner? French toast with whipped cream and lots of berries? I know you like sweet things.”

Perri’s answering smile was the prettiest thing Tobias had ever seen.

CHAPTER EIGHT

PERRI

Perri was practically vibrating as they made their way up the apartment steps. He was just so pleased. Tobias didn’t seem at all indifferent to him anymore, what with the teddy bear (and how cute was he?), the dinner invitation, and the way he kept looking at Perri like he wanted to kiss him (or was that just Perri projecting?).

And they’d had such a good time together, hadn’t they? Tobias may not have been as demonstrable in his delight as Perri tended to be, but Perri could tell. It was the way his posture relaxed, the way his eyes lit up, the way his lips curled softly when no one was looking directly at him.

Perri followed Tobias inside and stopped at the threshold. The apartment was…surprising. He’d expected something more staid and reserved, like Tobias himself, but they were surrounded by bright colors—a lime-green couch, a maroon accent wall—and cozy accessories. Throw pillows and blankets peppered every surface.

“Oh, it’s lovely,” Perri breathed, delighted by the way Tobias’s cheeks reddened with the compliment.

He quickly slid out of his jacket and set it down with his teddy bear, perusing the shelves around the living room. He stopped in front of a collection of crystals. They weren’t polished, precisely cut displays; instead, there was a craggy, smoky amethyst cluster, a roughly hewn section of quartz, and many more Perri didn’t recognize. He stood still, marveling at the variety. Perri itched to touch them—so sparkly, some of them—but he kept his hands to himself, unsure of whether that was allowed.

He felt the warmth of Tobias standing close behind him. Perri absently noted he smelled good—not like any cologne or particular scent, just…good.

“I’ve always been fond of crystals like these,” Tobias murmured, the words ghosting over the back of Perri’s neck. “They’re solid, you know. They’re of the earth. But they’re still so beautiful.”

“Like you,” Perri said, lifting a fingertip to stroke the shelf, needing to touch something, if not the crystals themselves.

A soft huff of breath. “Um…pardon?”

“You’re solid. Of the earth. But still so beautiful.”

“That’s not—I’m not⁠—”

Perri turned around, wanting Tobias to see his sincerity. “You are though.”

And then Tobias was kissing him with enough force Perri almost stumbled back into the shelf, except Tobias snaked a solid arm around his waist, tugging Perri into him. Finally. Freaking finally. Perri threw his arms around Tobias’s neck, returning the kiss with full enthusiasm.

They explored each other thoroughly, tongues battling, teeth nipping, and when Perri finally had to come up for air, he gasped, “Would you think I’m frivolous if I asked you to take me to bed right this minute?”

Tobias groaned, dropping his head onto Perri’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“Why did you?” Perri asked, running his fingers through that thick head of hair. It was just as soft and luxurious as he’d always imagined.

“People— Well, past partners have tended to think I’m….boring.”

“You?” Perri frowned. That didn’t describe Tobias at all.

“Well, I’m an accountant,” Tobias mumbled, as if that explained anything about it.

“But that’s a very respectable job,” Perri countered, indignant on his behalf.

“And I volunteer on my weekends.”

“Which is lovely of you.”

“I’m a homebody. I like nature shows and time on the couch with my cat.”

Well, this was just silly. Perri stepped back, forcing Tobias to lift his head and meet his eye. “I’m a homebody too. I mean, I have friends and hobbies, and sometimes I need to dance in the moonlight to assuage my pixie instincts, but I like couch cuddles and nature shows as much as the next guy. And maybe—” Perri bit his lip, wondering if he was jumping the gun a bit. “Maybe we’ll find new interests together. Isn’t that part of what’s nice, being with someone?”

“Oh. Well, that’s— That’s⁠—”

And then Tobias was kissing him again, walking Perri back toward that lime-green couch, and pushing him gently onto his back. He didn’t follow him down, just stared at him for a very long moment. “You’re so beautiful.”

Perri preened up at him. “Thank you.”

Tobias reached a hand toward Perri’s shirt. “Can I⁠—”

“Please.”

Tobias tugged it up, lifting a knee onto the couch and leaning down to kiss every bit of skin that was revealed: Perri’s stomach, his chest, his shoulder. By the time he got the shirt off and focused on unbuttoning Perri’s pants, so close to freeing Perri’s now aching erection, Perri was practically a puddle of bliss.

Then Tobias paused, his fingers on Perri’s zipper. “Um, Perri?”

“Yes?”

“You’re…sparkling. A bit.”

“Oh, am I?” Perri looked down at himself. Sure enough, there was a faint sheen of glitter to his skin.

“Is that…usual?” Tobias asked, his tone delicate, as if afraid to offend.

Perri squirmed, wanting less of the talking and more of the touching. “Not exactly usual, but not abnormal. It happens when we’re, um, exceptionally pleased.”

That was putting it mildly. Perri couldn’t remember the last time he’d sparkled for a lover. Maybe not since his very first time, soaking in the naïveté of young love.

“Oh.” Tobias grinned wide, seemingly reassured. “And here I thought you couldn’t get any more lovely.”

Oh. Oh no. If Tobias kept saying complimentary things and looking at Perri like he was the best thing on earth and buying him adorable Valentine’s gifts and offering to make him dinner…

Well, Perri was going to have to marry him, wasn’t he?

But his existential crisis couldn’t last long, not when Tobias was finally tugging Perri’s pants off, leaving him nude on Tobias’s couch cushions. And Perri wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting—a little shyness or hesitation, maybe—but the next thing he knew, Tobias was swallowing him down, Perri’s back arching with the unexpected pleasure of it.

Heavens. Tobias’s mouth was warm and wet and perfect, and he licked and sucked like a man on a mission before popping off suddenly, lifting his head. “You taste sweet. Is that a pixie thing?”

But Perri could only make a strangled sound in response because Tobias went immediately back to work with his mouth, not waiting for an answer. Perri dug his fingers in that thick head of hair, not to push or guide in any way, just to ground himself somehow.

He turned his own head to the side, and then he was tugging at Tobias’s strands. “Uh… Tobias?”

Tobias popped off his cock again with a lewd noise. “Yes?”

“We have an audience.”

There was a tabby—a very large tabby—seated on the carpet a few feet away, staring at them, unblinking. Perri found himself blushing for some reason. “Hello, there.”

“Oh my God,” Tobias groaned. “Mr. Tibbins, go away.”

Mr. Tibbins did not go away.

So Perri found himself being tugged off the couch by Tobias and led to a bedroom. This time, Perri pushed Tobias onto his back. He knew what he wanted, and what he wanted was to show Tobias exactly what he could do. Moreover, ten more seconds with Tobias’s mouth on him and Perri was going to come like a first-time virgin, and he couldn’t have that. He got Tobias naked as quick as he could, sneaking kisses in between each item of clothing removed.

And oh, he was lovely. He wasn’t muscled or chiseled or any of that nonsense. He was just…solid, with a smattering of dark hair along his chest Perri wanted to rub his face against. And his hard, leaking cock was just perfect, not too big, not too small, just the right size to do delicious things to Perri’s insides.

All in all, the sight of him made Perri want to purr, if he were capable of it.

Instead, he made an educated guess and dug into Tobias’s bedside drawer, fishing out lube and condoms. He straddled Tobias’s strong thighs and slicked up his fingers, pressing a digit against his hole.

Tobias’s eyes went wide as he realized what was happening. He drank it in for long moments as Perri prepped himself before offering hesitantly, “Can—can I?”

“Next time,” Perri promised, twisting two fingers inside his hole, rocking slightly against Tobias’s leg. “I kind of like doing it.” Even more, he liked the way Tobias was looking at him, like he was something otherworldly. “Get yourself ready for me?”

Arousal pooled in his gut as he watched Tobias roll a condom down his cock, then wrap a lubed hand around himself, stroking in time with the rocking of Perri’s hips.

Perri couldn’t wait much longer. He slid his fingers out and gently knocked Tobias’s hand away, wrapping his own around the base of Tobias’s cock, holding him steady as he lowered himself.

Ohhh. Oh, that was heavenly. Each inch left him gasping anew, until he was fully seated, that perfect cock filling him just right. “All right?” he asked Tobias.

Tobias’s eyes were heavy-lidded behind his glasses, his mouth slack, and his hands were gripping Perri’s thighs tightly, as if afraid Perri would disappear if he didn’t have a tight enough hold. “Holy hell.”

Perri grinned, giving his hips an experimental swivel, pleased with the way it made Tobias’s fingers clench even harder. “Exactly.”

He rocked his hips with purpose then, setting a faster pace than he might usually for a first time with a lover. But he couldn’t help it. Tobias was so perfect underneath him: strong and warm and solid, looking up at Perri like he was a glorious fae from ancient times rather than a silly, slight half pixie from around the corner.

Tobias eventually began meeting him thrust for thrust. Perri let himself fall forward, kissing and licking along Tobias’s neck, drinking in his groans as their thighs worked together, vaguely aware that his own stuttered moans were louder than was probably suitable for a shared apartment building.

Perri’s cock was rubbing against Tobias’s stomach with each grind of their hips, and he grasped Tobias’s shoulders frantically as he felt the telltale signs of his imminent orgasm. “Tob-Tobias,” he keened.

Tobias understood him immediately. “Yes,” he gasped. “Yes. Please, Perri.”

And Perri came, his body trembling with the force of it. Tobias ground against him for another few rounds of short, deep thrusts, and then he was groaning like a dying man, holding Perri tightly against him, his strong thighs bracketing Perri’s hips as he found his own release.

Perri drifted then, feeling soft and warm and sated, his shimmering skin setting off a soft glow in the darkened room.

Tobias was petting his back with long, firm strokes of his hand. Eventually he laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the side of Perri’s head. “I’m going to make you the best French toast you’ve ever had.”

* * *

PERRI

Perri stretched luxuriously, reveling in the soft coziness of the flannel sheets he was wrapped in.

Of course Tobias would know the value of a high thread count—he was just that kind of man, wasn’t he? And he was Perri’s man.

Or maybe that was jumping the gun a bit.

But last night had just been…

Perri turned onto his stomach, burying his head in Tobias’s pillow to muffle his squeal.

It had all been so perfect. Tobias hadn’t even minded Perri waking him up in the middle of the night for a second round, had just immediately given Perri soft, sleepy kisses, sinking into his body like he belonged there.

And yes, maybe Perri was a bit sore from his own overenthusiasm, but it was nothing a nice cup of tea and a good-morning kiss couldn’t fix.

Speaking of…

Perri lifted his head, trying to suss out any sounds coming from the rest of the apartment. It was awfully quiet. He rolled toward the bedside table to check his phone. Eight a.m., no texts from Tobias. But why would there be one? Perri was in Tobias’s apartment, and surely….surely he hadn’t left, right?

Perri tossed on his underwear and crept into the hallway. The bathroom was empty—Perri took a minute to do his business and swipe Tobias’s toothbrush for a quick clean—as was the little office he found further down the hall.

He peered into the living room, but there was only Mr. Tibbins, blinking slowly at him. He could see into the kitchen from where he stood, and there was no one there.

Perri was alone in the apartment.

He bit his lip, wondering what to do next. He should go, right? This was a signal he’d overstayed his welcome. Should he have asked about spending the night before he’d just fallen asleep? Maybe he’d—maybe he’d misunderstood. Maybe the teddy bear had only been an apology. Maybe the sex had just been…sex. People had it casually all the time, right? It didn’t have to mean anything. Perri didn’t have to feel like his heart was breaking in two just because⁠—

The sound of keys jangling had him turning to the door. A second later and Tobias appeared, grocery bag in hand, looking startled to see Perri in his living room. “Oh! You’re up already.”

Perri shuffled his feet awkwardly, wishing he’d put on more than just underwear. “Well, it’s already eight. I’m an early riser.”

“I should have known,” Tobias said easily, setting his bag on one of the side tables. “Should have left a note.” He swept into the room, and then Perri was getting his good-morning kiss after all, Tobias’s lips firm and cool against his. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to get some supplies.” He rubbed Perri’s arm, then frowned. “Oh, but you’re freezing! You should have snagged my robe. One moment.”

Perri stood there, more than a little stunned from the whiplash of his own assumptions, and then he was being enveloped by yet more soft, flannel goodness. “There. It’s a bit big on you, but that’s kind of adorable.”

Perri’s nerves and preemptive sadness from just a moment ago were being replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling—and it wasn’t coming from the robe. “What supplies did you need?” he asked, still feeling a bit shy.

“Well, I used the last of my eggs for the French toast last night, and you said you were fond of fried egg sandwiches.” At Perri’s silence, Tobias’s brow furrowed, and he looked suddenly uncertain. “You can stay for breakfast, can’t you?”

“I can stay.”

Tobias gave him a relieved smile. “Good. Because I might have called off work.”

“For me?”

“Well, I thought we could have a cozy day in. But you don’t have to⁠—”

Perri closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Tobias. “I’d love that.”

“Perfect. Now you just settle in,” Tobas instructed, leading Perri to the couch. “And I’ll bring you a tea. I have some herbal options, I think. Or I bought some decaf coffee in case you like that better.”

Perri snuggled into the couch in his oversize robe, petting Mr. Tibbins absently as the large tabby climbed into his lap. He couldn’t take his eyes off Tobias rustling around in the kitchen. Perri’s cheeks ached from the broad grin stretched across them.

Yeah, he was definitely going to marry this man.

EPILOGUE

TOBIAS

“Mr. Tobias?”

“Just Tobias, Sarah.”

“Tobias, that cute guy is staring at you again.”

Tobias looked up from the worksheet he’d been correcting—vast improvements on conjugations, even the more complex tenses of this higher level, he was happy to note—and glanced toward the story time corner reflexively before looking to Sarah.

He bit back a smile, peering over his glasses at her. “What cute guy?”

She huffed at him in annoyance. “What do you mean, what cute guy? You just looked at him. The one with the purple hair.”

“Periwinkle,” Tobias corrected automatically.

“What?”

“His hair color—it’s periwinkle.”

She cocked her head at him. “You know him?”

Now Tobias looked over deliberately, catching Perri’s eye. He was staring, the little imp. Story time hadn’t started yet, and while the kiddos were occupied with their parents, Perri seemed to be making use of his time by trying to distract Tobias from his own task.

“I know him.” Tobias shot a quick wink at the pixie before turning back to the worksheet. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“He’s what?” Sarah gasped, excited in the way only a teenager could be at the prospect of romantic gossip. “You have a boyfriend? He’s so cute!”

He really was. Perri was dressed as a tiger this weekend, with little headband ears and painted-on whiskers. “I’m a lucky man,” Tobias agreed.

But Sarah wasn’t listening anymore, too busy tapping away at her phone, probably spreading the news to his other tutees. Technically, Tobias had a no-phones policy during tutoring hours, but since he was occupied correcting her worksheet, he’d let it slide.

His gaze rose against his will back to the story time corner. Perri wasn’t staring anymore; one of the kiddos had crawled into his lap, looking to get an early peek at the book. He was good with kids, to put it mildly. He’d be good with their kids, Tobias was sure of it.

But first he had to ask the question.

His hand traveled automatically to his jacket pocket, seeking out the ring he’d taken to carrying around on his person. He couldn’t leave it in the apartment—Perri had a way of sniffing out anything shiny and pretty, no matter how well hidden. He just had to wait one more day, and then Tobias would have a new word for Perri. After all, “boyfriend” sounded so…flighty.

“Fiancé” was much better.

Tobias finished his tutoring session with a minimum of further distractions before waiting around and reading his book until a familiar form sidled up to him, clearing his throat delicately. “Hello, Tobias.”

“Hi, baby.”

Perri blushed at the endearment, as he tended to do when they were in public. “You still want to come to yoga with me?”

“Of course.”

Tobias was still horrendous at it—his body was seemingly allergic to flexibility, and no matter how much he focused on his breaths, his mind didn’t like to shut off the way it was supposed to. But it was always worth it to see the way Perri lit up during class.

Plus, it usually led to sweaty, flexible (on Perri’s part, anyway) showers together, where Perri praised him—verbally and physically—for trying something outside his comfort zone.

“Perfect!” Perri clapped his approval. “Let me put away my costume.” He grabbed Tobias’s hand, dragging him along behind him. “And then we can run home and change for class. Oh! And after, we should stop at the store because we’re frighteningly low on cupcakes. And then⁠—”

Tobias listened happily as Perri babbled about all the things they’d do that day, most of them small, domestic tasks that neither of them should have been all that excited for. But Perri had a way of making even the most mundane seem light and exciting. Nothing was ever boring, not with Perri around.

Tobias’s pixie tugged off his ears when they got to the little storage room, lifting one of the costume boxes from its shelf. “And are we still going to the street fair tomorrow?” he asked hopefully. “For our anniversary?”

His smile when Tobias nodded lit up the whole room. “Perfect!”

And it was. Or it would be, once Tobias slid that ring on his finger tomorrow.

Because, yeah, Tobias was definitely going to marry this man.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

GRAE BRYAN

Grae Bryan has been reading romance since she was far too young to know any better. Her love for love stories spans all genres, and while her current series is of the paranormal variety, she knows she’ll be exploring other worlds further down the line.

She lives in Arizona with her husband, who graciously shares space with all the imaginary men in her head. When not writing, she can generally be found reading more than is healthy, walking her monster-dog, or cuddling her demon-cat. She loves anything and everything gothic, strange, lovely, or cozy.

Connect with Grae

Website: www.graebryan.com

Newsletter signup: graebryan.com/contact

Facebook reader group: Grae Bryan's Reader Den

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LOOKING 4 FUREVER

KIKI CLARK

CHAPTER ONE

Bestie: Just ask him ouuuuuuuut

Wrinkling his nose, Rance surreptitiously checked out the him in question. Dean had been coming into Magic Beans—the coffee shop where he worked—for months. Three months, two weeks, and four days to be exact. Every single day Dean walked through the front door, brows furrowed, with an actual, honest-to-god newspaper under his arm. He’d order a single cup of coffee, always sits in the corner by the window, and drink half while he read.

And every day, Rance waited to be noticed by him.

Rance: Yeah, no. You said he’s a lynx.

Bestie: So????? Are you telling me you have a problem with feline shifters now? *expressionless face emoji*

He snorted. Gosh, I loved her.

Rance: No, my sweet lioness. Of course not.

Bestie: Then explain it to me like I’m stupid because you’ve been lusting after that man for months and it’s starting to get sad.

Rance: a) that’s mean. b) starting to? c) because if he was interested at all, he’d have already said something. You cats are always sniffing up in other people’s business—you can’t tell me he doesn’t know I’m attracted to him.

The door opened and he tucked his phone away, greeting the new customer with his best “please leave a tip, I’m a poor grad student” smile. After getting her taken care of, he glanced at Dean and held back a sigh. Most of him was hidden behind the pages of his paper, but he didn’t need to see him to know what he looked like. He’d been trying not to stare ever since the gorgeous older man had walked in on a random, boring Wednesday all those months ago.

Wavy, dark brown hair that reached just past his broad shoulders on the rare day he didn’t have it pulled up in a messy bun. A thick, well-kept beard, wide nose, and blue eyes so dark it was a little startling the first time he turned them on you.

Rance had also learned during his tiny window for small talk each day that he was new to the area, came from a large family, and taught English and Creative Writing classes at the community college in the next town over.

Le sigh.

He was so perfect.

It was heartbreaking that he didn’t see Rance the same way. He wondered—not for the first time—if it was because he was human. Was it his fault he hadn’t won the genetic lottery? Certainly not!

But it definitely seemed like it mattered to Dean, unfortunately.

Maybe perfect Dean wasn’t so perfect?

He scrunched up his face as he straightened the pastry display. That didn’t seem likely.

Maybe he already had a mate and it just hadn’t come up in their brief conversations? Oh wait, no. He was almost positive Dean had mentioned a couple of months ago that one of his brothers had recently visited and given him a hard time about being almost forty and unmated. It had left Rance floating the whole rest of his shift.

Maybe Dean didn’t like something about him? He supposed it could be the age difference, though there wasn’t much he could do about only being twenty-three. Or maybe he was looking for a mate that was more settled? But Rance was sure he’d mentioned more than once that he was only working at Magic Beans until he finished his Master’s in Counseling. How could Dean not like that he wanted to help people for a living?!

Of course… maybe it was something Rance couldn’t change. Something intrinsically him, like his scent.

Could Dean not like the way he smelled?

His heart lurched. He couldn’t exactly change that, even if he’d wanted to. Which he didn’t! He wasn’t the kind of guy who changed himself for a man. No, sirree.

He pulled out his phone, intent on asking his bestie if his scent was off-putting, and saw she’d sent him a deluge while he’d been busy.

Bestie: Excuse you, we don’t take scent as consent, sir.

Bestie: If you like him, you need to tell him. Don’t treat him differently just because he’s a shifter.

Rance frowned. He wasn’t doing that… was he? He just didn’t want to make Dean uncomfortable or make him feel like he couldn’t come in to get his tiny coffee fix because Rance pushed the issue.

Bestie: If you WON’T ask him out, then you should do something to get over him. Mooning is not a good look for you, babe.

Bestie: Oh, join H2H! They have a special right now for V-Day. Cupid is hooking people up with their best matches.

Rance: Wait… like Cupid-Cupid? Winged dude with the arrows?

Bestie: *eyeroll emoji* He doesn’t use actual arrows.

Intrigued, Rance downloaded the app onto his phone and checked out the special. Sure enough, the Heart2Heart people said they were working with the cheeky cherub to help people find their magical match for Valentine’s Day.

He sighed and glanced up, catching movement out of the corner of his eye. Dean was folding up his paper and pushing to his feet, permanent furrow between his brows. He carried his half-full cup over to the dirty dishes station, shot Rance a small smile, and then headed out, the tinkling bells over the door announcing his departure.

He’d been so sure the first time he saw Dean that the scowly man was his. Sure, he wasn’t a parahuman with enhanced senses so technically he couldn’t detect a mate like a shifter could—but his gut had swooped to his knees and his heart had raced as his palms sweated so badly he’d nearly dropped Dean’s coffee that first day.

For weeks, he’d lingered near Dean’s table or made extra small talk when he ordered, expecting something any moment. A grumbly dinner date proposition. An awkward request for his number.

Heck, he’d have been happy with Dean leaning over the counter and scenting him right there in front of the whole town.

He shivered. So dang happy.

But… nothing ever happened.

Dean kept coming in, and sometimes he’d smile at Rance or ask how he was doing, but more often than not, he barely spoke and just headed over to his regular table.

It was getting painful for Rance to see him every day. Maybe he should join H2H and see if Cupid could find him a better match?

His stomach soured at the idea, but what did his stomach know? It still got all fluttery for Dean after all these months, even though he’d given zero indication he was interested in Rance at all.

Mind made up, he started to sign up on the app, but someone walked in before he could finish. And then a few people came in behind him. And then they had a small mid-morning rush and he forgot about it, too busy to do more than fill orders and smile.

The rest of his shift was pretty much the same way, as soon as he’d think about pulling his phone out the door would open again. It was early afternoon before he clocked out, grabbing his computer bag from the back and saying bye to everyone. He had about an hour before he had a phone call scheduled with his advisor to go over his final semester and make sure he was feeling good about finding an internship.

And he was, for the most part. He was definitely ready to be done with classes and papers and theoretical conversations.

He felt his phone start to vibrate in his pocket as he walked down the sidewalk, heading toward the parking lot where he left his car at the end of the street. He smiled a greeting at Mrs. O’Malley as he pulled his cell out, answering without looking because he knew who it was. He really did love living in a small town, and the fact that his best friend had his schedule memorized.

“Hello dear,” he answered, grinning at her snort in response.

“Hey, did you do it?”

“Sign up for H2H?”

“Duh,” Ericka said impatiently. “It’s only a week until Valentine’s Day and you need someone to give you some dick on the official sex holiday. That doesn’t leave Cupid much time to work his magic.”

He cracked up even as his body heated at the idea of getting some dick. Gosh, it had been… a minute since he’d been touched by anyone but himself. Long before he set eyes on Dean and then he’d been unable to really look at anyone else since.

“I started to…”

“What?” she asked when he didn’t finish.

“I don’t know. It feels…” Like cheating. Which was ridiculous. Dean barely even looked at him—he definitely didn’t have a claim on Rance in any way, shape, or form. He fidgeted with the leather bracelet on his wrist, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder.

“Aw, babe. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. Don’t let me pressure you into doing something you aren’t comfortable with.”

“It’s not that—well, it is, but it isn’t. I need to move on from him. Nothing’s going to happen, and I need to just accept that and find someone else. Maybe it’ll just be a fun rebound or maybe it’ll be more, but like you said, I can’t keep pining.” He took a deep breath and let it out, forcing himself to let go of his bracelet.

He slowed outside the diner on the corner and wondered absently if he had time to grab something to go and still be home before his advisor called.

Eh, better not risk it.

“Are you sure?” she asked, voice still soft and gentle like she was worried he’d break into sobs on the sidewalk.

Which… he only did that one time when he was drunk and it had been in the privacy of his own home, thank you.

“Yes… mostly. No,” he said firmly. “I am sure. After my call with my advisor, I’m going to finish signing up and fill out the questionnaire.”

“Yes!” Her loud cheering made him feel even more confident in his decision. “I was poking around on the app earlier and they have two options for the Cupid special, did you see that?”

“Um, no?”

“Yeah, you can either choose the blind date option and Cupid will find you a match and set up a date and then send you all the info so all you have to do is show up.”

“Um. Pass.” No offense to Cupid, but who would trust some random guy—magical being or not—to set them up and plan everything? That sounded super stressful. “What’s the other option?”

“You get matched with someone and use the in-app messaging system to chat. That way you can wait until you’re ready to make plans to meet up.”

That was definitely more his speed. “Okay, yeah. That way I can hopefully figure out if he’s a serial killer first.”

“Your perfect match won’t be a serial killer!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Ransom Crawford, you’re ridiculous!”

He snickered. “Hey, even serial killers have soulmates probably. We don’t know.”

He could hear her rolling her eyes. “Dear goddess, give me patience.”

“And don’t give me a serial killer mate,” he added, just in case the goddess was really listening.

“Anyway,” she said loudly, “let me know as soon as you get matched up with someone, okay?”

Strolling up to his rusty Station Wagon, he grinned. “Of course. You’ll be the person I send all the info that I scrape from our conversations so you can turn it over to the cops if I go missing.”

“Rance!”

“Yes?” He opened the back door and chucked his computer bag onto the seat, then slid in behind the wheel and started the engine.

“You’ll really give this a chance, right?” she said, sounding way more serious than he’d been expecting and taking the wind out of his teasing sails.

“I will. I’m ready for more, you know that. Waiting around for Dean Hill will only lead to more heartache.”

CHAPTER TWO

Dean slipped into his truck and thought about what he’d just overheard. Was he proud of the fact he’d eavesdropped on Rance’s phone call with his friend? No, but desperate times and all that.

He’d meant to ask the sweet little barista out on a date months ago. He’d been working up his courage, practicing what he’d say, and going back every morning despite the fact he could barely stand the taste of coffee.

And then his fucking brother got in his head.

Usually, Dean loved when one of his siblings visited him. Since their parents had passed, they’d done their best to keep involved in each other’s lives. But when he’d told Jeff about maybe finding his mate, his brother had been excited for him and then looked downright horrified when Dean mentioned he was human.

And younger.

And Dean was maybe stalking him a little bit.

He’d tried to explain it was just because his lynx wanted to make sure their mate was safe while he got his shit together enough to declare his intentions.

That seemed to worry Jeff even more.

“Humans aren’t like us, Dean. This guy might be freaked out by your attention instead of like it.”

He tried to tell himself that wouldn’t happen, that he and Ransom were obviously fated for one another, the pull unmistakable and inevitable.

But… what if Rance didn’t feel it?

So he’d been reduced to following Rance to his car to make sure he was okay most days and lingering in the coffee shop until he absolutely had to leave to make it to his English 100 class. He knew Rance had been talking to his best friend, the blonde lioness who came into Magic Beans sometimes and gave him an unimpressed side eye.

Sighing, he pulled out his phone and searched for the dating app Rance had mentioned, curling his nose at the idea of having to use technology to woo his mate. Unfortunately, his socially awkward ass had fucked up winning his mate over in person, so he’d do whatever was necessary to make sure Rance didn’t end up moving on from him.

There would be no moving on for either of them. He just needed to make that clear to his little human.

* * *

His phone went off and he nearly pulled a muscle lunging to grab it where he’d left it on the kitchen counter. He completely ignored the food cooking on his stove as he checked the notification.

New match.

That was quick.

Opening the app, he navigated to the profile he’d been paired with, but there weren’t any pictures visible—they were all grayed out with a little lock icon in the corner. Clicking on it, he got a message saying he and HughSoundsLikeYou wouldn’t see each other’s pictures until they agreed to meet.

What a strange app.

If he couldn’t see Rance’s adorable red curls, bright green eyes, and delicious freckles covering his nose and cheeks, how could he be sure that was who he’d been matched with?

Grumbling to himself, Dean stared at the profile’s information. He didn’t understand the username and the rest of the things the person had selected weren’t telling him one way or the other. Twenty-three, human, male, looking to meet someone, open to parahumans, no kids but wants them.

Dean’s lynx stirred. He’d always thought he’d have a large family after growing up in one, but now that he was pushing forty, he’d begun to worry he was running out of time. Did his mate want as many as he did?

Whoa, slow down. He wasn’t even sure if this was his mate or not. The little biographical section was only a few sentences and sounded promising but… It could be possible he was seeing things that weren’t there too.

A friend of mine convinced me to join for the V-Day promo, and I’m excited to see who Cupid matches me with! Honestly, I’m open to finding my HEA but no pressure. *winking face emoji* *see-no-evil monkey emoji* Okay, that was probably a little TMI before we’ve even chatted but I don’t want to waste either of our time, ya know? The most important things I’m looking for are a great sense of humor and loyalty.

His humor could be an acquired taste but loyal he could do. No one was more loyal than a bonded shifter. Rance would never doubt his devotion a single day after they were mated.

Dean took a deep breath and opened the chat feature.

Looking4Furever: Someone I know convinced me to join for the promo too. And I’m looking for something serious as well.

He stared at the screen for a few minutes, willing three dots to pop up to show him HughSoundsLikeYou was typing but nothing happened.

The smell of something burning finally got him to drop it, and he managed to mostly save his steak, though it was more well done than he liked. He was cleaning up, trying not to feel disappointed or triple guess his opening line, when a strange sound had him cocking his head.

“What the hell…”

His heart sped up—the app! Scrambling, he started to grab his phone and then made a face at his wet hands. He growled and just wiped them on his jeans, too impatient to take three steps to grab the towel hanging on his stove.

Goddess, he was sad and desperate.

He didn’t care though.

HughSoundsLikeYou: Hi

His gut twisted, and he nearly smacked himself in the face.

Looking4Furever: Oh, sorry.

Looking4Furever: Hi.

HughSoundsLikeYou: lol I appreciate the upfront honesty

Dean swallowed, stumbling blindly out to his living room and sinking onto his couch, unable to tear his eyes away from his phone and nearly tripping over an end table.

Looking4Furever: I liked that you were honest in your profile too.

HughSoundsLikeYou: I *love* that your bio is a pun hahaha

Face heating, his lynx purred at the idea of Rance loving something about him, even if Dean had chosen a silly cat and grammar pun instead of putting actual details about himself in his bio. The fact that his mate liked his sense of humor seemed like a good sign…

Maybe his mate.

He frowned. How could he find out? Maybe this was just some random guy named Hugh?

HughSoundsLikeYou: Sorry it took me so long to respond. I had something to do for one of my classes and just got home a little bit ago.

Looking4Furever: It’s late. I’m glad you got home safely.

HughSoundsLikeYou: lol it’s only 8:30

Looking4Furever: Yes, but it’s been dark for over an hour.

HughSoundsLikeYou: Ugh, that’s true.

Looking4Furever: What are you going to school for?

He held his breath. He knew that Rance was working on his master’s so he could become a therapist, but would this guy tell him something so personal so quickly?

HughSoundsLikeYou: Counseling. I want to help people. *smiling face emoji*

Dean settled against the back of his couch, letting out a slow breath. This had to be Rance. What were the chances Cupid would match him with another guy studying the same thing?

Seemed pretty miniscule.

Looking4Furever: That’s impressive. Graduate school is no joke.

HughSoundsLikeYou: Did you go to grad school?

Looking4Furever: I did. I always tell people I don’t recommend it unless they enjoy crying, massive debt, or are a masochist.

HughSoundsLikeYou: hahaha *loudly crying face emoji* omgosh that’s so accurate. Maybe I am a masochist because a part of me really likes the challenge

HughSoundsLikeYou: though I always thought I was more of a praise kink kind of a guy, not pain and torture

HughSoundsLikeYou: oh shoot. I didn’t mean to say that.

Dean stared at his phone, swallowing thickly. His lynx was stirring—along with his cock—and he wasn’t sure if he should acknowledge Rance’s comment or let it slide.

Apparently, he took too long to decide because another message came through before he could decide.

HughSoundsLikeYou: did I freak you out??

Looking4Furever: Not at all.

Looking4Furever: I was trying to figure out a non-creepy way to respond.

The three dots appeared and then disappeared. And then appeared again.

Then disappeared.

Dean growled and sat forward. Should he have said something else? As awkward as he could be in person at least he would be able to see Rance’s face and read his scent.

Finally, a new message popped up.

HughSoundsLikeYou: …how did you want to respond?

Running his teeth over his bottom lip, Dean considered changing the subject or giving a non-answer. But his mate wanted to know what he’d thought when he’d let slip he enjoyed being praised…

Looking4Furever: I wanted to tell you that was good to know. I’d hate not to tell you how perfect you were and give you a spanking instead.

HughSoundsLikeYou: gracious

Looking4Furever: Creepy?

HughSoundsLikeYou: the opposite

Looking4Furever: Also good to know. *winking face emoji*

Looking4Furever: Tell me more about what you’re looking for in a mate.

* * *

Looking4Furever: I feel like I should know what your username is referring to…

HughSoundsLikeYou: *rolling on the floor laughing face emoji* it’s from a movie. have you ever seen Knives Out?

Looking4Furever: Can’t say that I have.

HughSoundsLikeYou: it’s so good! we’ll have to watch it together

Looking4Furever: I look forward to it. *blue heart emoji*

* * *

HughSoundsLikeYou: the best thing happened at work today—this woman came in and ordered a drink, but she gave me the order wrong, I guess? idk but I made what she said and then she yelled at me that it was wrong and demanded I remake her a new one. I was going to do it—it’s not a big deal and I don’t really like getting yelled at, ya know? but this regular stands up and walks over and says in this super calm and serious voice “ma’am, he made what you asked for. if you want something else, you can ask nicely and pay for another drink, but if you don’t stop being rude to him, you’ll have to leave”

HughSoundsLikeYou: she was so shocked she just gaped at him and then turned and stormed out

HughSoundsLikeYou: so epic

HughSoundsLikeYou: I hope your day is going well *red heart emoji*

Looking4Furever: Better now. *blue heart emoji* I’m glad someone stood up for you.

HughSoundsLikeYou: it was kind of weird—this guy barely says two words to me but he looked ready to throw down if necessary

HughSoundsLikeYou: he’s actually kind of why I joined H2H

Looking4Furever: Oh yeah?

HughSoundsLikeYou: yeah. nothing ever happened, but I had a crush on him

Looking4Furever: I’m sure he’d kick himself if he knew that.

* * *

HughSoundsLikeYou: does our age difference bother you?

Looking4Furever: It’s late. Are you worrying about this instead of sleeping?

HughSoundsLikeYou: …maybe?

HughSoundsLikeYou: but does it?

Looking4Furever: No, of course not. Does it bother you? Fifteen years could be tricky to explain to people.

HughSoundsLikeYou: like family?

Looking4Furever: Yes, like family. Or even friends. Are you worried people would judge us?

HughSoundsLikeYou: no. I don’t really talk to my family and any friends who got judgmental about our age gap could take a hike.

Looking4Furever: Then why are you worrying about this at almost one in the morning, sweetheart?

HughSoundsLikeYou: you’re like all settled in your life and I’m just starting. what if that’s annoying for you?

Looking4Furever: Helping you navigate the next stage of your life would be a privilege. You could never be an annoyance.

HughSoundsLikeYou: that sounds really nice, but you can’t know that for sure

Looking4Furever: I know. Go to sleep, sweetheart. You’ll feel better after some sleep. *blue heart emoji*

* * *

Looking4Furever: Good morning. Are you still worrying that we won’t be perfect together?

HughSoundsLikeYou: lol good morning. no, I do feel better. I’m sorry for bothering you

Looking4Furever: You didn’t and you never could. But I did have a dream about you last night.

HughSoundsLikeYou: really?

Looking4Furever: Really. I can’t wait to meet but are you sure you’re ready? I don’t care about the V-Day promotional. I just want you to feel comfortable.

HughSoundsLikeYou: YOU make me comfortable. I need to find out if this feeling in my belly is all in my head or if it’s still going to be there when we’re finally in the same room together

Looking4Furever: What feeling in your belly, sweetheart?

HughSoundsLikeYou: there it is again! *see-no-evil monkey emoji* a swoop… with heat

HughSoundsLikeYou: so much heat

Looking4Furever: You’re so damn sweet. I can’t wait to kiss your smiling lips and taste your happiness.

HughSoundsLikeYou: *melting face emoji*

HughSoundsLikeYou: …but that’s not all you want to do, right?

Looking4Furever: Not by a longshot. I plan on scenting every inch of your body before making you delirious with pleasure.

HughSoundsLikeYou: oh gosh. it was a bad idea to start this conversation ten minutes before my class. how am I supposed to concentrate with an erection????

Looking4Furever: Sounds unpleasant. I’m going to stroke my cock to get rid of mine. *winking face emoji*

HughSoundsLikeYou: you’re so evil

Looking4Furever: See you tomorrow, sweetheart. *face blowing a kiss emoji*

HughSoundsLikeYou: if I don’t die from blue balls… *face blowing a kiss emoji*

CHAPTER THREE

“Wait, you’re actually going to this guy’s house? What happened to ‘he might be a serial killer’?” Ericka screeched, sounding more avian than feline.

Rance rolled his eyes. “You told me that was ridiculous.”

“But—”

“And you have his address. If I don’t text you by eleven, assume the worst and send the calvary.”

“If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming to get you myself,” she growled.

He grinned and turned down the driveway his GPS told him to. “You are the calvary, yes.”

“Oh.”

Looking4Furever’s house was outside of town, but not completely isolated. Rance could see several other homes from the driveway. Plus, he really did feel comfortable with his mystery man. He couldn’t explain it, but something about him and his messages soothed all the little anxious bits in Rance’s brain.

Maybe he was being silly, and he’d end up on Unsolved Mysteries, but his gut said otherwise.

And he’d put good money on his bestie if she had to come save his ass. She was one tough cookie.

“I’m here,” he said softly, gazing up at the cozy-looking Craftsman-style house. There was honest-to-goodness smoke rising from the chimney, making his chest ache in the best way. February in Michigan was no joke, even if they didn’t have a ton of snow at the moment, and he couldn’t wait to get inside. Maybe curl up on the couch in front of the fire with his… mate. “Oh gosh. Tell me this is a good idea, quick.”

“Close your eyes,” she said quickly, voice firm.

He obeyed without thought, slamming his lids shut and squeezing the steering wheel of his car as he just idled next to a large truck parked outside the detached garage.

“Think about how you felt when you heard the notification go off for the app, knowing it was him without having to even look. You remember?”

He bit his lip and squirmed in his seat. “I remember.”

“Hold onto that.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, opening his eyes and seeing movement in a window facing him but the person wasn’t clear. “I’m going to go knock.”

“Okay. Don’t forget to text me even if you get some good dick, babe. I will break down his damn door if I think you’re in trouble, and if you’re not, that’ll just make me being in your guys’ wedding super awkward.”

“Oh my gosh. Goodbye.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Before he could turn his car off, his phone went off and he got that same warm, comforting feeling he had the last few days every time the H2H app alerted him to a message.

Looking4Furever: Don’t be nervous.

He glanced at the house and saw the outline of the man still standing there, watching him.

HughSoundsLikeYou: what if whatever this is… it’s not as good in person? what if you’re disappointed in me? what if you don’t like my scent?!

Looking4Furever: Come inside, Ransom.

He sucked in a breath. How…

Feeling like he was floating, he turned off his car and stepped out, crunching across the driveway to the front porch. Before he reached the top, the door was opening.

He almost tripped and fell on his face.

“Dean?”

Rance’s mind was spinning, and he couldn’t nail down anything he was feeling. It felt like he was floating outside his body and watching as Dean stepped outside, the warm light behind him making him sort of glow.

“Don’t be mad, sweetheart.”

He swallowed and shook his head. Gosh, he needed to get his thoughts in order so he could say something semi-coherent. “What… Did you know it was me all along or did you, like, recognize my car?”

Dean’s tongue wet his bottom lip, and Rance’s gut clenched. “I knew. Well, I was pretty sure after you told me what you were studying, and then I knew for sure when you told me about the rude woman⁠—”

“Oh my gosh.” His face was on fire. “I told you about you helping me! I’m such an idiot.”

He turned, nearly slipping on the stairs, but didn’t get more than a single step before Dean was at the bottom, face creased in worry.

“You’re not an idiot. You are… Goddess, Rance, you are the most perfect man in existence, and I’ve been trying to find some way to say that to you for months.”

Rance’s breath caught in his throat. “You have?”

“Yes.” Dean climbed onto the step below him, putting them at face level. “Sweetheart… I’m sorry I tricked you. I just…”

“What?”

“I’m so bad in person,” he whispered, looking away. “Take me out of the classroom and I tend to say all the wrong things, if I say anything at all. It takes me so long to warm up to people and feel comfortable around them.” He met Rance’s eyes once more, pain shimmering in his dark blue depths. “And then my brother freaked me out, convincing me that because you were human you wouldn’t understand what it meant for a shifter to be interested in you, and that you couldn’t possibly feel the same. And that you wouldn’t like that I was… you know.”

Rance raised his brows. This was the most Dean had ever said to him. Well… he supposed that wasn’t actually true. The two of them had been sharing so much about themselves the last week. Random facts and deep-seated dreams. He just hadn’t known he was sharing all those things with Dean Hill, the stoic lynx he’d been lusting after for months.

“You were what?” he asked, not sure what he was implying.

“Stalking you a little,” Dean mumbled, dropping his head. His gorgeous wavy hair fell forward, hiding his face. “I don’t even like coffee.”

“We sell other things” was all he could think to say as he stared at those dark brown waves, fingers tingling.

“I was going to get something different the second day, but you recognized me and asked if I wanted the same thing.” He shrugged and peered up at him through his curtain of hair, looking far too adorable for a grown man.

Shaking his head, he finally let himself reach forward and tuck the strands behind his ears. “Coming into my work every day isn’t stalking.”

Dean cleared his throat and glanced away.

“What?”

“I might have also followed you to your car some days,” he said delicately, then rushed to add, “but just to be sure you were safe.”

“You…” Rance stared at him, unsure he should feel good about hearing a shifter was following him around without him knowing. And maybe if it was literally any other person, he would have been creeped out. But it was Dean.

“I’m sorry if that makes you uncom—mph!”

Rance didn’t remember launching himself at Dean, but he was suddenly in the man’s arms, lips pressed against Dean’s moving ones.

It was so awkward.

And also the best thing ever.

Growling, Dean quickly got with the program, kissing him back hungrily and grabbing the back of Rance’s legs to hoist him into the air. They were moving, but Rance couldn’t be bothered to open his eyes, trusting Dean to keep him safe as he wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and opened his mouth for his probing tongue.

The loud groan that exploded out of Dean had the front of Rance’s pants tightening.

He wanted to hear that sound on repeat for eternity.

Something slammed and he jerked his head up, glancing around worriedly. “What was that?”

Dean licked up the side of his neck. “Kicked the door shut.”

“Oh.” He twisted his fingers into Dean’s soft hair and held on, arching his head back and shivering when he gave a soft bite. “Are you… Will you bite me?”

The sound Dean made was something between a moan and a hiss, his mouth vibrating against the vulnerable skin of Rance’s throat. “Fuck. You want that?”

“I…” He swallowed, trying to think clearing when every cell in his body was screaming yes, yes, yes! “Maybe?”

Dean gave him one more lick then raised his head, meeting his gaze with glowing eyes. “Maybe isn’t yes. There’s no rush though.”

“I thought cats liked to do it though,” he whispered, tightening his thighs when Dean started moving through the house again. He vaguely took in comfortable looking furniture, heat from a fire, and food that smelled amazing, but he couldn’t take his focus off the lynx carrying him with purpose past all those things.

“We do and I will, but only when we’re ready.” He paused just inside a room near the back of the house, and before he turned on a light, Rance knew it was his bedroom. His scent of lush forests and cinnamon were strong enough even his human nose could pick it up. “I won’t change my mind, Rance. You’re it for me. I know that’s intense, and you might not understand, but that’s okay. Whatever you can give me, I’ll take.”

Rance’s heart lurched. This dang man.

Cupping his strong jaw, he made sure Dean was paying attention and said, “I’ve been waiting almost four months for you to notice me. I’m not changing my mind either.”

“I noticed you,” Dean said, voice little more than a growl. “I noticed you the second I opened the door that first day. Your scent wove around me and never let go. Just as soon as you give the go ahead, I’m going to do my best to fuse our fucking souls together.”

His mouth was dry, and he was pretty sure his dick had never been harder before in his life.

“Yes, please.”

A split second later he was falling back onto a huge bed, Dean’s larger body on top of him and pressing him into the soft mattress. “You’re so beautiful,” Dean mumbled, kissing his mouth and then across his cheekbones. “I love these damn freckles.”

Every compliment filled Rance’s body with more heat and yearning. He needed more. He needed naked skin and more kisses and lube. They needed lube.

Before he could say that out loud though, Dean had sealed his mouth onto Rance’s again, swiping his tongue inside and purring. His chest honest-to-goodness vibrated against Rance’s and ratcheted up his desire even farther somehow.

He tugged mindlessly at the bottom of Dean’s shirt until he finally got the hint and sat back, ripping the offending garment off and tossing it onto the floor. Rance ran his hands down through his thick chest hair to his soft stomach and groaned.

“I love your body,” he whispered, repeating the stroke from Dean’s shoulders to hips. “You’re so… powerful.”

A hint of red stained his cheeks, but Dean just kept stripping, unbuckling his belt and then lowering the zipper on his jeans. He stepped back off the bed to shove them and his underwear down all in one go, toeing off his socks and shoes and kicking everything away.

Rance stared at his hard cock. He was only probably about six inches long, but he was thick. Spreading his legs involuntarily, Rance licked his lips and clenched his hole. He needed that in him immediately.

Like, why wasn’t he already naked, dang it?

He sat up and pulled at his shirt, but it was hard to concentrate, all of his focus on the leaking tip of Dean’s dick. He couldn’t help but wonder if he tasted as good as he smelled…

He was on his hands and knees crawling to the end of the bed a second later. “Can I taste you, please?”

“Goddess, you’re so polite. Of course you can, sweetheart.” Dean threaded his hand into Rance’s hair, guiding him forward.

Sticking his tongue out, he swiped it across the tip as soon as he was close enough, humming loudly at the salty taste. He needed more though. He opened his mouth and leaned as far off the bed as he could, taking the first few inches in, and just that much made his jaw ache at being stretched open so wide.

“That’s so good,” Dean murmured, cupping his jaw with his free hand. “You’re making me feel so damn good.”

Rance whimpered, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, but he pushed himself closer, taking even more.

Dean thumbed at the moisture and groaned, guiding him back off. “I’m too worked up for more this time.” He leaned down and licked at Rance’s bottom lip. “But someday soon, I’m going to wreck this perfect, pretty mouth. Okay?”

Rance could only nod, his heart speeding up at the idea.

Dean’s eyes flicked to his chest, and he grinned. “You really like that idea, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Guilty,” he said, a little hoarse despite barely getting to enjoy Dean’s cock.

“My sweet little mate is a little naughty too, hm?”

He sank his teeth into his bottom lip, scooting back on the bed and relaxing back on the pillows. “Maybe a little.”

Dean laughed, following him up the bed. He made quick work peeling away Rance’s clothes, kissing random bits of skin as he exposed them and fingers cascading over even more. It didn’t take long and Rance was quivering in place, dying for something more.

He tipped his head back, whimpering pitifully, but it turned to a long moan when wet fingers rubbed at his entrance. Pulling his legs back, he nodded hurriedly. “Thank goodness. Yes, more, please.”

Dean chuckled, running his free hand up the back of Rance’s thigh and producing goose bumps. “So needy.”

“So horny—oh gosh, yessss.”

Rance squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of Dean slowly thrusting a finger in and out of him. He concentrated on relaxing, knowing he’d need all the prep he could get to take Dean’s girth.

Luckily, Dean seemed to be done with his teasing, quickly moving to two and then three fingers. Rance watched him through slitted eyes, falling in love just a little bit more with the careful way Dean got him ready, checking in every once in a while to make sure he was still doing okay.

And then he was leaning over Rance, wide head pressed against his hole and fangs peeking out from behind his panting lips.

He was gorgeous.

The burn as he pressed inside was intense, but so was the way Dean stared into his eyes the whole time.

It seemed to take a lifetime, but Dean was finally all the way in. Both of their chests were heaving, and Rance’s fingers were trembling where he was still holding his thighs up.

“Okay?” Dean asked quietly, eyes moving all over Rance’s face.

“So okay,” he whispered back, releasing his hold and easing his legs around Dean’s waist.

Dean was a lot more gentle than he had been as he’d fingered him, barely pulling out and easing back in slowly, but Rance appreciated it, groaning with every small movement. He felt stretched to the absolute max, but he loved it too.

The overwhelming feeling of fullness and taking nearly enough to send him over before he even wrapped his fingers around himself.

Nearly.

“Harder,” he gasped, tightening his legs and arching off the bed. “I won’t break.”

Grunting, Dean drove forward, snapping his hips right at the end and making Rance yell. “Too much?”

“No, it’s perfect. Again, please.”

Everything turned to sweat-slicked skin and gasping breaths, deep moans and pleas for more. Before Rance knew it, he was sucking in a breath, his whole body tightening and then exploding. His come covered his hand as he stroked himself through it, barely coherent as pleasure ping-ponged all through him.

He groaned, a little sensitive, as Dean gave a few more quick thrusts, face buried in his neck. He was snarling, sounding more animalistic than he had all evening, but instead of scaring Rance, it had his nerve-endings sparking again, trying to convince him he could go again.

Dean stilled, buried as deeply as possible inside him, body trembling with tension, and then he sighed and fell to the bed next to Rance. Turning, he nuzzled into Dean’s chest, wrapping and arm and leg around him.

“That was nice,” he said breathlessly.

Snorting, Dean leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “It was.”

“Sorry we missed dinner.” He traced a finger around one of Dean’s nipples, smiling as it puckered at the gentle touch. “It smelled really good.”

“It’ll reheat,” Dean said, sounding half asleep.

A nap sounded like a fantastic idea, especially because the shifter he was pressed against was radiating wonderful heat. Sighing, he let his eyes fall closed and promised himself he’d text Ericka as soon as he woke up to tell her he wouldn’t need rescuing.

CHAPTER FOUR

Curling up in his lynx form in a patch of sunlight to take a nap was one of the simplest and best joys in his life.

Unfortunately, kids tended to hamper quiet moments like that.

He growled as his son pulled at one of his tufted ears, but the chubby toddler just grinned at him, sinking his sticky fingers into the busy ruff on Dean’s neck.

Narrowing his eyes, he licked at a dark spot on Hugh’s cheek. Grape jelly. He should have known. He was going to need a bath later.

“Dean?” a nasally voice called from the other room. “Have you seen my allergy pills?”

His mate appeared in the doorway to the living room a moment later, their daughter on his hip and eyes red-rimmed. He narrowed those pretty eyes on Dean in his shifted form.

Then sneezed.

“Bwess you,” Louise said cheerfully, reaching up to pat Rance’s cheek.

“Thank you, sweetie.” He gave Dean one more look and then headed toward the kitchen. “We now know why Daddy’s allergies are suddenly acting up, don’t we?”

Dean pounced gently on Hugh, making the boy giggle, and then let him chase him around the living room for a while, hoping to tire him out before his nap time.

Finding out Rance’s allergy to house cats extended to Dean’s shifted form had caused Rance to pout for a week straight until Dean had shown up at his apartment with a basket full of allergy meds and a promise to never shift in the house again.

And he hadn’t.

But he couldn’t resist his sweet kids asking for “Kitty Daddy.”

Oh well.

He’d make it up to Rance later once Hugh and Louise were in bed for the night.

If it took a lifetime to make his sweet mate happy, he’d just have to spend the rest of his life doing everything in his power to make it happen.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

KIKI CLARK

A small-town Michigan girl, Kiki has enjoyed reading since she first picked up a YA fantasy as a child. After that, she devoured everything she could get her hands on and dreamed of one day writing her own books that touched people's hearts.

In 2020, she proudly joined the ranks of authors releasing character-driven, emotionally satisfying books showcasing that everyone deserves to find love.

Connect with Kiki

Website: www.kikiclark.com

Newsletter signup: kikiclark.com/newsletter

Facebook reader group: Kiki Clark’s Korner

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LOCKED IN LOVE

LARK TAYLOR

CHAPTER ONE

ASH

“I still can’t believe you persuaded me to sign up for this.”

“I can’t believe you’re running late,” my best friend’s amused voice rang in my Bluetooth headphones as I rushed down Portswood Road. “Actually, scratch that. Yes, I can. The day you’re early to anything is the day I announce I’m attracted to men.”

“Bite me.”

Cassie’s laugh was as colourful as her personality. “Darling, I literally just reminded you that men don’t do it for me. Even if they did, I wouldn’t be letting your disgusting fangs near me anytime soon.”

“They are not disgusting,” I insisted, skirting around a group of humans. It was early evening, and thanks to the copious bars that lined the street, there were swarms of students from the local university clogging up the pavement. “I brush them twice a day and floss. Given I can’t even get cavities, I think that should earn me a medal.”

I could almost hear Cassie’s shudder through the phone. “Listen, we’ve been over this. You can’t drink blood and not be disgusting. It’s plain nasty.”

As a witch, Cassie liked to tease me about the whole drinking blood thing. “It’s delicious.”

“It’s unnatural.”

“Blood is literally the most natural substance on earth and keeps me alive, but okay.”

I rolled my eyes, glaring at a human who didn’t move out of my path. For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t the tallest, but surely I wasn’t invisible?

Wait, actually, I was. I’d put a compulsion net on me so I could rush through the crowds at inhuman speeds. 

Whoops. 

Darting around him, relief mixed with anxiety as the escape room appeared in the distance. “Anyway, stop trying to distract me. I’m nearly there now, and I still need to yell at you for making me do this.”

“Listen Ash, I love you, but this has gone on long enough now.” I groaned internally at the no-nonsense tone Cassie was unleashing. “You need to get over Gareth.”

“I am over him,” I protested. 

“Okay, then you need to move on. You broke up with him for a reason. You need someone who actually listens to you and cares about what you think. That’s why you’re doing this.”

This was a blind date set up by none other than Cupid themself. They’d paired up with a huge matchmaking organisation, H2H, with the aim of helping you find your perfect match in time for Valentine’s Day.

While God had decided to gift both angels and demons with fated mates, the rest of us supernaturals weren’t so lucky. We had to rely on our own instincts and choose someone just like the humans did.

But with us, there was no divorce, or even until death do us part. No, if we chose to mate with someone, then we were stuck together for the rest of eternity.

I thought I’d got it right with my ex, but fuck me, what a prick he turned out to be. My only saving grace was that I’d broken it off before we’d taken that final step and mated.

The ad for this event had talked the big talk, promising to set us up with the magical match that’s just right for you.

Somehow I doubted even the great Cupid would be able to sort out my clusterfuck of a dating life. Right now I’d settle for someone who listened to me. They could look like a literal troll, but if they paid attention to the words coming out of my mouth, I’d mate them in a heartbeat. 

You might be thinking I’m not asking for much, but don’t underestimate how much I like to talk, especially when I’m nervous. Or excited. Or bored.

It’s like they forgot to install the off switch in my brain, letting me know when the words should stop.

So yeah. I got it. I was hard work.

But I wanted to find that person who didn’t think I was difficult. Who was actually interested in what I had to say.

Wasn’t sure they existed, but perhaps Cupid would have a better chance of finding them than I had.

A tall figure was pacing outside the shop. Every few seconds, he’d check his phone before resuming his impatient movements.

Oh dear. I’d probably fucked it up before I’d even arrived.

“Cass, gotta go. I’ll call you later.” I yanked the headphones from my ears, stowing them in my pocket.

My date’s head snapped around, clearly having heard me. I ran the last few metres, skidding to a stop in front of him. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

What was Cupid doing?

I’d been expecting someone more along the lines of my ex, Gareth. A few inches taller than me, built but not overly muscled. Stubble all over his face because he couldn’t be bothered to shave. I was also expecting maybe another vampire. Someone who matched me in terms of power.

This man was none of those things. 

He towered over me, topping out at at least six foot three. His form was lean but rugged. Sharp cheekbones free of even a single hair sat atop the most beautiful mouth I’d ever seen in my life. His plump scarlet lips were just begging me to kiss them. Maybe suck on them a little.

And don’t even get me started on the long lines of his pale neck. My eyes lingered on one of his carotid arteries, my fangs descending against my will.

He was also no vampire. No, he was a fucking water mage, and a powerful one at that. I could smell it on him.

Why was that such a turn-on?

Cupid hadn’t given us any information about the other, just a notification of a time and place to meet. Now I kind of wish I’d had a heads up so I could stop the torrent of words that was about to erupt.

Scratch that. Even a picture wouldn’t have done him justice. There was no stopping this now.

“Hi! I’m Ash. God, I’m so sorry I’m late. I put on my green shirt, but then I managed to get toothpaste down it. Then I changed into this one, but my trousers didn’t match so I had to change those too. At least my shoes go with everything. My friend Cassie got them for me for Christmas. She’s such an angel. Well, technically, she’s a witch, but you know what I mean. Do you celebrate Christmas?”

My date’s face didn’t move except for his eyes. They swept down me slowly, taking in the way I was bouncing on my toes, my hands swinging at my sides. Then they slowly came back up to rest on my face.

I waited another beat, but he remained silent. “You are Lochlan, right?”

His chin dipped the tiniest inch. “Aye.”

A Scottish accent. Kill me now. There was no way I was going to hold it together in front of this perfect specimen.

Lochlan stepped to the side, opening the door and silently gesturing for me to step through. 

My heart sank at his lack of responses. Trust me to fuck it up before the date had even started.

You’d think that would be enough to stop me talking. Instead, my brain decided to fill the quiet. “I couldn’t believe my luck when the notification came through to meet here instead of a bar. Bars are so impersonal, ya know? Besides, I love doing escape rooms. Especially if the puzzles are more complicated than the usual lock and key ones. My favourite types are ones where you move an object, and a secret door opens. It’s like I’m living in a spy novel. I’d make a great spy! I can be really sneaky when I need to be. Like a mouse.”

Lochlan didn’t respond, just continued studying me in the same inscrutable manner as before.

Fortunately any awkwardness was broken by the games master who’d apparently overheard my word vomit. “Ah! I see you’re not new to escape rooms.”

I inwardly slapped myself on the cheeks. Pull it together, Ash. I turned my attention to the games master who was smiling widely, the light catching on her nose stud. “Oh, I love your hair.”

“Thanks,” she beamed at me, fluffing her hands through the pale pink streaks. “It’s not as pink as yours though. How do you get it that colour?”

“I have a really talented hairdresser.”

Actually I had a witch called Cassie who, amongst other things, had a knack for creating otherworldly hair dyes. It even sparkled.

Our host turned to my silent date. “Have you done an escape room before?”

To my surprise, Lochlan returned her smile, speaking warmly. It was like he was a whole different person. “No, I haven’t actually. I wasn’t sure if this was gonna be my cup of tea, but I’ll give anything a go once.”

Yep. That was definitely a beautiful Scottish burr he had going on. I surreptitiously rearranged myself so he didn’t see the effect his voice was having on me.

I had to stop fucking this up, if for no other reason than I wanted to have this man whisper things in my ear all night.

I needed it.

“Well, I’m glad I’ll be your first time,” I said flirtatiously, letting my fingers drift down his arm. “I promise to be gentle.”

Lochlan jumped, his face paling as he stepped out of my reach. He cringed as his gaze met mine.

I felt my smile turn brittle. Fine, Lochlan. Message received. I gestured to the door the games master was holding open. “After you.”

There was no point fighting this. Sure the attraction was there on my end, but clearly it was missing the mark for my date. He probably didn’t like how much I talked. Or my hair. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Oh well. I’d get through the next hour, and we could go our separate ways and chalk this up in the ‘we gave it a go’ column.

I needed to give up on the idea of finding someone who’d accept me as I was. Because what I was, was clearly too much for anyone to want to put up with long term.

Even with Cupid’s help, I couldn’t stop myself from fucking up.

CHAPTER TWO

LOCHLAN

I didn’t think I’d been so nervous for a date before in my life.

A matchmaking service wasn’t something I’d usually entertain. But even I couldn’t pass up the offer of having the literal Cupid help me out. God knows I wasn’t having any luck on my own.

And it wasn’t through lack of trying. Over the decades, I’d gone on countless dates. Occasionally, they’d even developed into relationships.

But none of them had lasted long. I’d yet to find my perfect match – the one who would keep me on my toes.

The one who was so fascinating that I’d follow him anywhere.

So, yes. I’d been nervous before the date had even begun.

Then Ash appeared, and those nerves solidified into sheer terror.

He was the most exquisite creature I’d ever laid my eyes upon. From his bright pink spiky hair to his sparkling blue eyes, to the way he couldn’t seem to hold still.

He was utter perfection in a five-foot-eight package. 

That was before I’d even heard him speak. Then he opened his mouth, and I was lost.

All I could do was stare at him as he rattled through words so fast I don’t think anyone else could’ve followed. He didn’t lose me though. I hung on to them with an intensity rivalling a devout follower listening to their apostle.

Ash was so far out of my league that it wasn’t even funny. Flirty, effervescent, gorgeous…he was everything I was looking for.

I’d wanted to introduce myself to him. To fall over myself getting to know him. To charm him. 

What came out instead?

Aye. 

Fucking aye. Christ, he was going to think I had no manners at all.

It only got worse as we went into the building. I managed to muster up my usual self for the host, but the instant I felt Ash touch me, my power of speech was ripped away again. Heat unlike anything I’d felt before licked over my skin where he touched me, making me jump away in surprise.

A brief scowl flashed across his face before he replaced it with a brittle smile. “After you,” he said, gesturing to where the host stood waiting.

Fuck. Horror washed over me as I examined my behaviour from his perspective. Not only had I barely spoken to him, but I’d not even given him a proper smile.

Stupid fucking nerves.

I rectified this immediately, forcing my lips to tip up at the edges, but it was too late. Ash was looking at the floor, the tips of his ears slightly pink.

Brilliant, Lochlan. Winning at life again.

The room we were shown into was space-themed, but that’s all I really noticed. I didn’t listen to the games master’s spiel, too busy studying Ash surreptitiously from the corner of my eye. 

Even while listening, he was still moving. His fingers were twitching off each other as he rocked up on his toes. From the way his eyes were darting around the room, I could tell he was desperate to get started.

He noticed me staring, and a slight flush came over his face. Clearing his throat, he sank down onto flat feet and shoved his hands deep in his pockets.

I scowled. What was that about? 

His eyes flitted back, no doubt spotting my expression, and his blush deepened. 

I cursed myself internally. For cripes sake, Lochlan. He probably thought you were scowling at him.

The games master left us alone, and Ash was moving like he’d been unleashed. “Okay, so we need to break into the control room, find the coordinates for Earth and re-programme the computer. Why do you think they always give you such far-fetched scenarios? Like, they just walked us along a corridor. There’s no theming to make us believe we’re in space until you enter the room.”

He wasn’t wrong there. Given that was the only part I understood, I just nodded in response. 

Ash was already buzzing around the room, hands at work arranging objects and searching in various drawers. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He exuded energy in a way I’d never seen before. And I wasn’t just talking about his supernatural energy, which was considerable. There was just something about him, a storm trapped in a bottle.

I realised that if I wanted this date to improve at all, I should probably stop just staring at him like an idiot. 

Moving around the room, I started pulling at random objects on the shelves lining the space. I’d made it about halfway around when Ash’s voice behind me made me jump. “What are you doing?”

“Pulling the objects to see if it opens a secret door.” Ash stared at me like I’d lost my marbles, and I felt my cheeks heat. “Shit, isn’t that what you said earlier? Am I doing this wrong?”

“You were listening to that?”

I raised a brow at him, not liking how shocked the mere idea of me listening seemed to make him. Suddenly, my personality roared back to life, wanting nothing more than to reassure this gorgeous uncertain man. “Of course. You migth’a robbed away my ability to speak, but there’s nothing wrong with my ears.”

Ash’s jaw fell open, his wickedly sharp incisors flashing. I shivered, my cock stiffening as I imagined feeling them on my skin. Can’t say I’d ever intentionally sought out a vampire’s bite before…but there was something about the thought of Ash’s teeth being the ones to do the biting that was mighty appealing. 

We couldn’t do that here though. Not with cameras watching us. Using the tip of my finger, I pressed lightly on the bottom of his chin until his mouth closed. “Now, d’ya think I should keep grabbing objects, or is there something else that’d be more handy?”

Ash swallowed twice before finding his voice. “Umm, I think we need to work on finding the code for that chest. Once we’ve got that open, we’ll know where to go from there.” 

I searched the room with Ash, looking for clues. I had to admit I was more invested in working out the puzzle that was Ash over any of these.

In between finding clues, I peppered Ash with questions. Where had he grown up? Was he close to his parents? Did he have any siblings? How old was he? 

“Five hundred and fifty-six.”

I groaned at that. “You’re practically a baby!”

That made him smirk. “Ooo, are you an ancient one? Like, quite literally?”

I dug my fingers into his ribs, making him squirm and give off the most delicious giggle. “No, not literally, you cheeky fucker. I’m nine hundred and thirty-two.”

“Huh,” Ash’s gaze swept over me appraisingly. “I got the vibe that you’re powerful, but I must’ve been underestimating it if you’ve lived this long.”

“This long without someone killing me off, you mean?” I asked drily. “I know I didn’t make the best impression on ye, but I can normally comport myself in polite society.”

The door to my left clicked open, Ash pumping a fist in the air. “What about in impolite society?”

I caught his wrist as he brushed past me, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “Guess you’ll find out later. If you want to, that is.”

Ash shivered. “Oh, I want to. There’s just one problem.”

I let go of his hand immediately, putting a few steps between us. “Oh?”

My date looked like he was trying not to laugh, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “We’re locked in a room, remember? So if we want to move onto the fun stuff, we better get moving.”

CHAPTER THREE

ASH

I wasn’t sure what I was more astonished about. The fact that Lochlan had apparently paid attention to my ramblings or that he wanted to take this further after this. 

That’s probably where his interest would end though. Aside from my ex, it wasn’t often a guy wanted to stay around once he’d got his dick sucked. Lochlan might find my chattering endearing now, but that wouldn’t last. It never did.

I wasn’t going to turn Lochlan down though. I wanted a relationship…but I was horny, and it’d been forever since I’d been laid. And even longer since I’d been satisfied during sex. 

My ex wasn’t what one would call generous with his time. He was more of the camp of ‘well I got off so that’s what counts.’

Yes, I’d stayed with him too long. Two years too long. Realistically, it was a drop in the ocean to an immortal. The fact that it felt like forever should tell you a lot. 

The thing was that, I’d been down this road before. A large part of me believed that being miserable with Gareth was better than being miserable alone. It was only when it moved from miserable to unbearable that I knew it was time to cut my losses. 

Being single had never suited me,yet finding the elusive one also seemed impossible. Probably because I managed to scare off anyone halfway decent the instant I opened my mouth.

After our bumpy start, I thought Lochlan would fall into that category.

I snuck a sideways glance at him, not daring to believe he was interested. From the smirk he sent my way when he caught me looking, he was definitely interested. Physically, at least.

The tension simmered between us as we raced through the final puzzles. Lochlan’s questions were replaced with a heat-filled silence. Even my urge to chatter had fled, not wanting to break this loaded moment between us.

Some of the elements in the room had Lochlan needing to lean over me or slip close by. His spicy cologne filled my nostrils each time he did, the sensation of his body brushing against mine making me want to whine with need. 

When was the last time anyone had affected me this badly? 

I was going to go with never.

I wasn’t even sure why. Had Cupid actually managed to work a miracle? Or was it just that it’d been so long since I’d been laid that I was getting desperate?

Lochlan reached up to grab something off a shelf, his shirt lifting to reveal the dimples at the base of his spine. I bit the inside of my cheek to hold in my moan.

Yeah, you know what? I didn’t care about why I wanted to tackle him to the floor and ride him.

I just cared about making it happen.

When the final puzzle was completed, I was certain I was going to become a victim of spontaneous combustion. Could vampires die from that? It didn’t seem likely, but even so, the idea of having to reincarnate with your body in that many pieces didn’t sound fun.

We stepped out onto the street which was still thrumming with students. I didn’t pay them any attention, already pulling my phone out to order us an Uber back to my place. I wanted to get Lochlan there before I said something to fuck this up. 

A notification was on my screen, making me fumble the phone. It wasn’t unexpected, but it was wholly unwelcome.

Baby I want to see you. Why are you ignoring me?

There wasn’t any point in reminding him that we’d broken up. Engaging him in any way would lead to a barrage of texts that I just didn’t want to deal with right now. 

A steady hand touched my forearm. “Ash, everything okay?”

“Yep,” I swiped the notification away, pushing Gareth to the back of my mind, the only bit of brain space I’d allow him. “Just getting a car to my place.”

“Oh,” Lochlan’s hand fell away, a small wrinkle appearing between his brows before he smoothed it away. “Of course. I hope I can see you again?”

A merry laugh slipped from my lips before I could stop it. “No, I meant I was getting a car so we could both go back to mine. I’m not missing out on finding what you’re like in impolite society.”

Lochlan smirked, his hand going to my waist to pull me close. “Hmm, well as much as I’m looking forward to that, I’m not quite done with ye in public yet.”

My brows shot up. “You’re not?”

“No, bràmair, I’m not. I want to get to know more about you.”

“Oh.” For the first time, I was stunned speechless. Did he not feel the same attraction as I did?

Like he could read my mind, Lochlan tutted. He pulled me closer, pressing his body to mine. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m very keen to show you how improper I can be. But not until you understand that’s not all I want from you.”

His leg brushed my semi, the fleeting touch making me groan. “You really want more from me?”

“I think so. But why don’t we go to dinner so we can find out for certain?”

* * *

Lochlan insisted we go to my favourite restaurant, Mango. The Thai tapas restaurant was only a few streets away meaning we could walk.

True to his word, Lochlan peppered me with more questions as we strolled down the busy pavement. I tried to focus on answering them without babbling, but it was so difficult.

Difficult because he was holding my hand. Just reached down and taken it, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Which…it kinda was. It felt like it anyway. My palm sat tightly against his, our fingers effortlessly slotting together. I couldn’t help but stare down at it.

“Ash?”

I blushed, ripping my attention from our joined hands. “Sorry, got distracted.”

That small wrinkle appeared again. “Am I making ye uncomfortable?”

“No,” I exclaimed, tightening my grip so he didn’t pull away. “Not at all, I’m just…not used to it. That’s all.”

“No one’s walked down the street holding your hand before?”

I kept my gaze fixed forwards. “Nope. None of my exes were really into PDA of any type. To be honest, I think they were embarrassed to be seen with me. Not that I can blame them. My hair is generally a wacky colour and my outfits tend to be whatever I grabbed first out of the dryer. And it’s not like I’m exactly quiet.”

My babbling faded away into silence, and I realised that Lochlan hadn’t interrupted me. No, he was watching me intently, like he’d taken in every word.

“I’m not sure where to start,” he said finally. My heart sank. Great, this is when he decided this wasn’t for him. “Your exes are all twats. Anyone who doesn’t want to listen when you talk needs to take a long walk off a short cliff.”

A laugh burst out from me. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”

“It’s true though. They should’ve been proud to be at your side, not ashamed. As for ye hair and clothes…” His hot gaze raked over me. “You’re a catch, Ash. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

He’d done it again. I was speechless. 

This had to be some kind of a record. Who was this man? Why had fate left it so long before letting him into my life?

Oh dear god, was this really happening right now?

“Come on,” his voice was soft like he recognised I was resting on some unknown precipice, unsure of where the fall would take me. “Let’s get to know each other better over tapas.”

CHAPTER FOUR

LOCHLAN

It took Ash a little while to warm up as though he didn’t quite believe me when I told him I enjoyed listening to him. But by the time we left the restaurant and ducked into the waiting Uber, he was fully relaxed and rattling through stories.

“And now Cassie won’t even get on a plane with me. Like it was my fault the cat escaped.”

My lips twitched at the way Ash punctuated his tales with dramatic gestures. I think I could listen to him for the rest of my life and never get bored.

“Do you live around here?”

I inclined my head. “Aye. Highfield Avenue. You?”

“Huh. I’m on Oakmount.”

Two streets away from me. “Curious how we’ve never met before.”

“I haven’t lived there long.” For the first time, Ash wasn’t looking at me as he spoke, his gaze on the streets whipping by. “Only a few months.”

“Where’d you live before?”

“Ocean Village.”

His clipped answer told me this was a sore subject for him. “Well, how convenient that ye live close now. I can walk home later.”

We pulled up alongside the curb and Ash shot me a wink. “That’s assuming I let you leave.”

The sight of his taut rear,as he got out of the car had me momentarily frozen as the nerves from earlier reappeared. 

“You getting out, mate? I’ve got another fare waiting.”

I shook myself, throwing an apology to the driver before chasing Ash up the path. He was smiling, but the way he was fluttering his hands gave him away. “Sorry, that was too much, wasn’t it.”

Seeing his anxiety had my own nerves settling and my confidence returning. Ash was what was most important here. He’d clearly not been appreciated in the past.

I was sure as shit going to appreciate him now.

With a low growl, I crowded close until his back hit the door. My arms boxed him in, my body towering over his. “No, bràmair. Nothing ye can say to me will ever be too much. In fact, it’s probably best you lay down some boundaries now. Because once I get you on the other side of this door, I’m not going to want to stop.”

Ash stared up at me in disbelief. Then I felt a sharp pinch on my side.

“Ow,” I said with a jump. It hadn’t actually hurt, but it had startled me. “What was that for?”

“Sorry,” Ash squeaked. “Just checking you’re real and that this isn’t a dream.”

I leaned closer, letting my nose brush against his. “Shouldn’t you have been pinching yourself?”

“No, I know I’m real. You’re the one who’s appeared like you’ve been created from my fantasies. I call bullshit.”

I chuckled, our mouths tantalisingly close. “I’m taking that as a good sign. Maybe Cupid really does know what he’s doing.”

“Here’s hoping.” 

Ash’s lips ghosted against mine and it took every ounce of my self-control not to claim them. I’d meant it though, we needed to establish things straight up.

Because somehow I knew that once I’d got a taste of Ash, I wasn’t going to want to stop.

“Boundaries?” I reminded him, keeping a centimetre between our lips.

“Don’t know her,” he said breathily, craning up to try and close the gap.

I smirked, pulling back slightly. “You must have some limits.”

Ash dropped flat on his feet with a huff. “Fine. No bodily fluids aside from cum and blood. If you’re into it.”

My cock throbbed in response. I had to swallow twice before I could get my voice out. “I think I’m into that.”

He smirked, flashing his fangs at me for a second. “No pressure if you realise you’re not. But those are my limits.”

That’s what he said, but the smirk faded away like something was occurring to him. His fidgeting started again, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled with himself.

I waited, giving Ash the time he needed to articulate himself.

“No degradation,” he whispered finally, a faint blush on his cheeks. “I don’t want that.”

My rarely stoked temper began to burn. Not at what he’d said, but the implication behind it. Clearly Ash had some history he wasn’t sharing with me. 

Which was fine. The first date probably wasn’t the best time to air all our dirty laundry. We had plenty of time.

Right now I wanted to make sure Ash knew I wasn’t like the men he’d been with before.

“That all works for me,” I told him. “What about positions? I’m vers so good with whatever.”

My words had the last of the tension clearing from his face. “Wait, you’d let me top you?”

I frowned down at him. “If ye wanted to. Why is that a surprise?”

Ash’s blush deepened. “Well, I’m this size and you’re…”

His voice trailed off, making me raise an eyebrow at him. “Are ye saying that because of our size difference, I wouldn’t be into you doing the fucking?”

“None of my exes were.”

“Well, as previously established, your exes are twats. I’ve got no problem bending over for ye. Now or later.”

“Maybe later? I’m in the mood to have you inside me tonight.” He said, shyly. “If you want there to be a later?”

This man. If I wasn’t supernatural, his cuteness might just kill me. “Oh bràmair, I definitely want there to be a later.”

He tilted his head. “What does that mean? Bràmair?”

I forced myself not to smile at his butchered pronunciation. “I’ll tell you later…so long as ye want there to be one?”

He answered by grabbing my collar with both hands.

With one solid tug, our lips finally met.

And my whole world tilted on its axis.

Ash tasted like marshmallows and peppermint. My tongue swept through his mouth greedily, needing more. More.

I didn’t think I’d ever get enough.

Somehow Ash managed to get the door open and we went stumbling through. Our lips were locked together as we tore at each other’s clothes. Ripping sounds filled the air, both of us out of control as we bumped into various items of furniture.

“Ignore that,” Ash said after my elbow sent a lamp crashing to the floor. “I can buy more.”

“I’ll buy you another,” I said between kisses. “All the lamps.” 

Ash broke away with a curse. “Stupid fucking socks.”

He was hopping on one foot, clearly having tried to pull it off while still kissing me and failing. 

Biting back a laugh, I crouched down to help him. I eased off one after the other, tossing them aside. 

Then I raised my head to realise I was eye level with Ash’s cock.

It bobbed in front of my face, hard and throbbing. About six inches long, it curved at the top slightly, jutting towards his stomach.

Fuck, I bet that would feel great against my prostate.

My power of speech had fucked off into the abyss once more. Like before, Ash misinterpreted my silence. “I know I’m not massive or anything. Well, I’m average sized, I suppose. According to a recent study, most men have penises that range from five point one to five point five. On that scale I guess maybe I’m underselling myself.”

Once more, Ash’s nerves sent my own running. Grabbing his shaft, I stroked along him slowly. “I get the impression you undersell yourself a lot.”

Ash’s chest was rising and falling rapidly at my movements. “Force of habit.”

“Humph,” I reached up to cup his balls, already pulled tight to his body. “I reckon I’ll be breaking that habit.”

He groaned under my touch, his hands coming up to rest on my shoulders. “Lochlan…”

“Yeah, we definitely need to work on it,” I continued, keeping my voice even like I wasn’t kneeling at his feet and edging him towards release. “Because your view of yourself doesn’t match at all with mine.”

He was panting now, the sound loud in the small hallway. 

“You’re sweet. Kind. Funny.” I punctuated each adjective with another stroke of his cock. “Interesting. Fascinating. Gorgeous.”

Ash’s eyes were fluttering, like he was trying and failing to keep them open.

“And this cock?” I thumbed the pre-cum surrounding the head. “This apparently average cock? I was actually picturing how it’d feel inside me. Maybe I’ll test it out right now.”

That was all the warning I gave him before enveloping him with my mouth.

CHAPTER FIVE

ASH

Had I been expecting our date to end like this? With Lochlan on his knees, sucking on the head of my cock like it was his favourite lollipop?

No. I hadn’t.

But I couldn’t lie. From the second I’d heard his voice, I’d hoped.

I was still blushing at my fumble. Looking for the negative was just where my brain went these days. 

The ease at which Lochlan put my fears to rest was astounding.

No longer was I content with the idea that this would be a one-night-only thing. Lochlan hadn’t given me any signs that he was running, so I was going to hold onto him for as long as I could.

My hands went into his soft dark hair. It wasn’t overly long, but long enough to give me something to grab onto.

So I did just that.

Lochlan groaned around my length, his hand going to my rear. His long fingers started to dance along my crease. I shivered in response. Already I could feel my release building. 

I wasn’t ready. I needed more.

Lochlan took me deeper, making my eyes roll back in my head. “Lochlan, I can’t hold on.”

His response was to slide his finger between my cheeks and gently press on my hole. Not entering, just putting enough pressure to have me cursing.

“Lochlan, fuck. Oh fuck. Don’t stop. Do. Not. Stop.” I was rocking up and down on my tiptoes, my body not knowing if it wanted to flee or press down on the intrusion. 

He didn’t stop. No, he just lifted up on his knees to accommodate my movements. The rocking had me fucking more earnestly into his mouth, the head of my cock striking the back of his throat. He accepted me readily, swallowing around me.

“I’m going to come,” I gasped, knowing there was no way to stop this train now. 

Lochlan didn’t stop. Didn’t give me space to pull off.

Just looked up at me, his amber eyes burning.

It was a lit match. A spark I couldn’t escape.

I detonated.

Lochlan held me through my orgasm, swallowing down everything I gave him. 

Dragging down lungsful of oxygen, I tried to calm my racing heart. What was happening? I never usually reacted like this.

Mind you, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had an orgasm like this one. If ever.

Lochlan was still on his knees, dropping little kisses over my groin and abs. “Christ, Ash. No-one should be allowed to taste this good.”

“Bet you taste better.”

He got to his feet, pulling me close and dropping a sweet kiss on my lips. “Wanna get the chance to find out?”

Saliva filled my mouth. “Please tell me you’re not talking about your cum.”

“I’m not talking about my cum.”

Despite my orgasm, I felt myself growing stiff again. Lochlan chuckled, rolling his hips against mine. “Thank fuck for supernatural refractory periods.”

“I don’t remember the last time I bit someone during sex,” I whispered.

“Can’t say I’ve ever experienced it. But the thought of you sinking these beauties into my neck as I sink into you…” He pressed the pad of his thumb to one of my fangs. “Yeah. That’s mighty damned appealing.”

I’m not sure which of us moved first, but the next thing I knew, my legs were wrapped around Lochlan’s waist, my lips devouring his. 

He carried me up the stairs, moving far faster than a human could. 

“Second door from the right,” I said against his lips, my hands back in his hair. “Hurry.”

I didn’t know why there was such a sense of urgency. All my senses were heightened, my body and soul just screaming for me to feel Lochlan inside me.

If we were fated mates, this feral need for him might make more sense. But vampires and mages didn’t have fated mates.

This was just us. Like we’d hit the chemistry jackpot and were burning bright.

I just hoped we didn’t flame out just as fast.

We didn’t speak. Too lost in each other to stop. 

The lube came out from under my pillow, shoved into Lochlan’s hand before I captured his face with both my hands again. I couldn’t get enough of this man. His taste was addictive.

And I hadn’t even bitten him yet.

A distant warning bell began to ring in the back of my mind. Warning me to calm down. To take things slow. Reminding me that time was a barrier that didn’t exist for us.

I shoved it away. Right into a cage in the back of my mind and throwing away the key. 

Future me might be pissed, but current me was fully on board. 

Lochlan’s fingers were inside me now, working me open while I writhed beneath him. A litany of babble filled the air, little more than random sounds and noises. Each time Lochlan brushed over my prostate, I lost another piece of my cohesion.

“That’s it bràmair,” he praised. “Open up for me. You’re doing so well.”

His praise had my toes curling. “Please. Ready. Please.”

He rose up on his knees, lifting my knees to my chest with gentle hands. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

I stared up at him in awe. When was the last time someone took this much care with me? Had they ever?

I memorised every line of this face as he lined himself up. Even if this didn’t go anywhere, I wanted to remember this moment—something to get me through future lonely nights.

He sank in the first inch, and his gaze flew up to meet mine. His smile softened, his eyes running over my face.

Like he was doing the same. Like he too didn’t want to forget this.

“You feel so good, Ash.” There was a note of awe in his voice that I didn’t feel like I deserved. 

“Kiss me,” I demanded.

Lochlan indulged me, falling down onto his forearms and fixing his lips against mine. 

I lost all sense of time and space as Lochlan filled me over and over again. At some point he grabbed a pillow, shoving it under my hips. The next time he plunged in, his cock brushed right over my prostate, making my eyes roll back in my head. 

When he wasn’t kissing me, praise dripped from Lochlan’s lips like poisoned honey. 

Poisoned because I knew he was ruining me. No one was going to compare to him. To this.

That didn’t stop me from lapping up every word like it might be the thing to save me rather than end me. 

My hands explored his back. His chest. His arms.

Everywhere except his neck. I didn’t trust myself to touch him there.

Not until he told me to.

I was so ready to taste him. My fangs were fully elongated now. The familiar taste of venom was missing. I didn’t want to hurt Lochlan.

I just wanted to taste him.

“You feel too good,” Lochlan panted, his forehead leaning on mine. “I can’t last.”

“I’m close too.” I hadn’t even touched myself, the friction of Lochlan’s torso and the way he was milking my prostate enough to get me there. “So close.”

He craned his head to the side, his neck stretched deliciously just inches away. “Bite me.”

Saliva filled my mouth, but I checked in. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he was rocking into me faster now, the sound of our skin slapping obscene in the room. “I need it. Bite me, Ash.”

It was like something in me snapped. My head lifted while my hand tugged his neck closer. I licked up his throat, savouring the flavour of him.

I did it twice more, revelling in the litany of curses spilling from Lochlan’s body.

Then, when I couldn’t take it any longer, I sank my fangs into him.

Lochlan roared as my fangs pierced his skin. His hips slammed forward as his release tore through him.

Unless venom is involved, being bitten by a vampire is very pleasurable. So I’m told, anyway. As a vampire myself, I hadn’t ever been on the receiving end.

Judging by the way Lochlan’s eyes were rolling back in his head, I was missing out.

Not that my side of it was anything to sniff at. The second his blood touched my tongue, my orgasm hit me. My vision went fuzzy out as the honey-rich taste of him filled me.

I’d never experienced anything like it.

Lochlan twitched against me as I continued to suck. His eyelids were fluttering, his dick throbbing inside me.

It was almost painful to let him go, but I knew I needed to. Even a supe had their limits to how much blood they could lose at once.

Retracting my fangs, I lapped my tongue over the puncture wounds. Lochlan would heal on his own, but my saliva sped the process along.

I leaned back to check. My heart pinched slightly at the unmarred skin, no evidence of me being there at all.

“All fixed,” I said, kissing the place once more before flopping back on the pillow. 

“Wish it wasn’t,” Lochlan whispered, a hand coming up to rub at his neck hazily. “I kind of like the idea of wearing your marks.”

My stomach fluttered. “Me too.”

When we were cleaned up, Lochlan hovered beside the bed, his lip between his teeth. “Do you want me to go?”

“Do you want to go?”

He shook his head slowly. “No, bràmair. I don’t.”

I shoved the duvet back, nodding at the space next to me. “Better get in then. I warn you though, I like to fidget.”

He got in with a chuckle, pulling me into his arms and kissing my head. “I think I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”

I drifted off with my face buried in his neck and a smile on my face.

CHAPTER SIX

LOCHLAN

I woke up the next morning with Ash’s face snuggled against my neck, his adorable little snores filling the room.

The next morning, I woke up the same way.

And the next.

And many more after that.

A human wouldn’t understand the speed at which we were moving, but both Ash and I had lived long enough to know what we wanted.

Right now, that thing was spending as much time together as possible. It was hard enough having to part for our day jobs. Like a lot of supes, neither of us really needed to work. Money was something that simply accumulated when you lived endless lifetimes. I had enough in my bank to cover all my expenses for the next few decades. 

If I didn’t work though, boredom would set in rapidly. Hence my position at the University. I lectured in Modern History. Students signed up for my classes in droves, citing my ‘fresh perspective’ as the reason.

Easy to have a fresh perspective when you’ve been alive for the events in question.

Meanwhile, Ash had a job as a nurse at the blood donation centre. Yes. He, a vampire, drew blood for a living.

“If you’re gonna have someone taking your blood, wouldn’t you rather it be someone who can precisely locate your veins on the first attempt? Someone who can compel you if you’re anxious or in pain so you don’t feel it?”

Honestly, his logic was flawless. Plus, he had a ready supply of blood on hand when he needed to feed.

Not that he needed that at the moment…not with how many times I asked him to bite me.

Begged, if I’m being honest. I couldn’t help it. 

Everything about my feelings towards Ash were extreme. He was quickly becoming an addiction I didn’t think I’d ever want to break.

Well, that’s what I thought until this morning. We’d been seeing each other for almost a month now, and Ash made a decision that threatened all of that.

Instead of having toast, he opted for cereal.

It wasn’t the change that bothered me. Nor was it the choice of cereal. Cornflakes were a British breakfast staple.

No, it was the fact he poured the milk into the bowl first.

My jaw was agape as I watched Ash in horror. He hadn’t stopped talking, rattling off about his co-worker and utterly unaware that he was shattering my image of him, he continued filling his bowl.

“She wouldn’t stop crying. I told her Julie, it’s just a job. You can’t be a bitch just because you feel threatened. I mean, I get it. She’s twenty years younger than you and far more competent but -”

“What are you doing?”

Ash looked up in surprise. I hadn’t meant to interrupt it, but I couldn’t take it any longer. “What?”

I pointed at the milk that he’d just stopped pouring. “There. That.”

“Umm…making cereal?”

“By putting the milk in first?”

Ash’s smirk spread slowly across his lips. “It’s actually very logical if you think about it. If I did the cereal first, I might add too much milk. It’s much easier to control the pour of the cornflakes than it is of the milk.”

I clapped my hands to my face in mock horror. “Just when I thought you were perfect! So sad that I have to end it now.”

Ash clutched at his chest dramatically. “Who knew cereal would be this divisive?”

“Wait,” I exclaimed, fighting to contain my laughter. “Maybe we can save this. What about tea? Do you add the milk first?”

“Are you mad?” Ash brandished his spoon at me. “I have standards, Sir!”

The sight of him in his tattered green dressing gown, waving his cutlery like a sword, had me breaking.

Laughter bubbled out of me as I tugged Ash in for a hug. Tears streamed down my face as I roared with mirth, Ash giggling against my chest. 

That was the thing I was learning about being around Ash. He was fun. And even better?

He made me fun. 

He was bringing out a side of me I hadn’t even realised existed before. I liked it.

I liked the person I was around Ash.

Ash’s phone buzzed on the table, I gave him a peck before releasing him to get my own breakfast. I headed for the fruit bowl. Definitely safer there. 

Grabbing an orange, I turned to find Ash staring down at his phone.

His smile was gone, his face more ashen than usual. He was frowning down at his phone, his muscles tense like he was about to strike.

Or flee.

“Ash?” I squeezed his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

He flinched away from my touch, putting his phone screen to sleep. His lips were thin, his face harder than I’d ever seen it. “Nothing. I’m going to get dressed.”

My stomach twisted as I watched Ash stalk away from me. What the fuck had just happened?

Clearly, Ash had seen something on his phone that’d upset him. The question was, what?

And, more importantly, why was he hiding it from me?

* * *

I didn’t push Ash on what was on his phone, and he didn’t volunteer any information.

When he’d returned downstairs, he’d been his usual chipper self, carrying on the conversation about his co-worker like nothing had happened.

I couldn’t get rid of the knotting sensation in my stomach. 

Over the next couple of weeks, the same thing happened three more times. We’d be having fun, and spending time together.

Then Ash’s phone would vibrate and everything about his demeanour would change. Sure, he’d try and hide it from me. But whatever was in those messages would cause him to withdraw into himself. His smile was tighter. His voice quieter.

Whatever it was, it was making him dim his light.

I fucking hated it.

I was trying to wait until the right moment to bring it up. The problem was that he was so cagey over it, he obviously didn’t want me to know about it.

That…that hurt. I wanted to be a safe space for him.

Tonight, my worries had been replaced by a different type of stress – meeting Ash’s best friend.

To say I’d been nervous about meeting her would be an understatement. Cassie was Ash’s person. The one he chatted to every day without fail—the one who’d persuaded him to sign up for this whole matchmaking scheme in the first place.

I wanted her to like me. No, I needed her to. 

The longer I spent with Ash, the more certain I was that I wanted a more permanent role in his life. If his best friend didn’t like me, it’d make things…difficult.

Fortunately, I’d had nothing to worry about. She joined us in the restaurant in a swarth of perfume and floaty scarves. 

Cassie was basically the female version of Ash, with oodles more sarcasm.

I liked her immediately. 

I mean, yes, when Ash popped to the bathroom, she did threaten to curse my manhood if I ever upset him. But that was par for the course when dealing with supes. Threats given on behalf of those we cared for were practically our love language. Plus, it was just the one threat, so I was counting it as a win.

The evening was a complete success. I was riding the high as we walked back to Ash’s place when his phone vibrated. 

My good mood evaporated almost immediately as I watched Ash read the text with a small frown.

To my surprise, he chuckled and handed his phone to me. 

Several texts from Cassie filled the screen, praising everything from my politeness to my panty-melting burr.

“Think it’s safe to say she approves,” Ash said, peering over my shoulder and smirking as message after message from her continued coming through. “Although I’d say your arse is more peach-shaped than apple.”

Christ. I could feel the tips of my ears burning. “I hadn’t really thought about my arse too much, if I’m being honest.”

Ash palmed it and hummed. “You should. It’s a damned fine example.”

He continued feeling me up as I chuckled. “She’s still messaging. Damn, she’s got a filthy mind. I can’t decide if I’m impressed or…”

My voice trailed away as a new notification filled the screen. I didn’t need to click on it. The preview told me enough.

“Or what?” Ash asked, nuzzling my neck, oblivious to the fact I was frozen in place. “Lochlan?”

Tiny puzzle pieces were clicking into place, painting a picture that had my temper rising.

Turning slowly, I cupped Ash’s chin in my hand and lifted his head. His eyes widened as he took in the fury I wasn’t even trying to hide. “What’s wrong?”

“Ash, I think you need to tell me about Gareth.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

ASH

I froze, sure I couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

“Gareth,” Lochlan repeated from between gritted teeth. His eyes were wild, glittering in the moonlight. “The person who’s been sending you threatening messages.”

My own temper rose up to meet his. “Did you go through my messages?”

Lochlan dropped my chin, looking stung. “Of course not. One came through while I was reading the ones from Cassie. I’d never invade your privacy like that.”

Lochlan isn’t Gareth.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t normally push you on this,” he gestured helplessly at my phone, “but I can’t ignore this. I can’t, Ash. He’s threatening to hurt you.”

I let out a huff, shifting on my feet. “Can we discuss this back at my place? I’m freezing and this is a story better told over a cup of tea.”

“Fine,” Lochlan sighed, cupping the back of my neck and pulling me in. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I think about you being hurt, and I go a bit crazy.”

“It’s okay,” I closed my eyes and let his touch ground me. I wasn’t mad. Actually, I found his whole caveman protective schtick endearing. “It’s time I told you anyway. I would’ve before but it’s… well, it’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?”

I pulled away from him, taking his hand in mine. “Come on. I’ll tell you the whole story when we get home.”

* * *

Sat at my kitchen table, my fingers drumming on the sides of my mug full of steaming tea, I began to talk.

It all came pouring out. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I told him about how Gareth and I met. The red flags I’d ignored at the start of our relationship. The way I’d changed myself to try and fit in with the image he’d built of me in his mind.

Lochlan stayed quiet until that moment. “Wait, how did you change yourself?”

I shrugged, spinning my now empty mug in my hands. “Got Cassie to take my hair back to my natural colour. Wore the clothes he’d bought for me. Stopped painting my nails. Tried not to talk so much.”

Lochlan let out a long breath, reaching across the table to take my hands in his. “Ash, I’m so fucking sorry. You are perfect, exactly as you are. The fact that piece of shite made you feel lesser about yourself speaks volumes about his character, not yours.”

“Thank you,” I squeezed his hands. “After I broke things off with him, I vowed never to change myself again. If I couldn’t find someone to accept me for who I am, then I wasn’t going to go there.”

Lochlan kissed the back of my hand. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Ash. You’re perfect. Just as you are.”

I flushed red, ducking my chin down to hide my grin. “Thanks.”

There was a brief pause before Lochlan spoke again. “Okay, so I get what happened. Why is he messaging you threats now?”

“He’s not actually threatening me. He’s just throwing his toys out of the pram because he’s not getting his own way.”

Lochlan’s lips thinned into a grim line. “That’s not how I read it.”

I fished my phone out of my pocket and opened up Gareth’s most recent missive.

If you keep ignoring me, I’m going to make you pay. You’re mine, Ash. You can prance around with that mage all you like, but we both know it won’t be long before he realises you’re too much for him.

Okay, so it was a little threatening, but Lochlan didn’t know Gareth like I did. “He’s all talk. And even if he did try something, I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

That was another thing that had always irked Gareth. We were both vampires, but I was descended from a far more powerful line. Not that I ever flaunted it. In fact, when I realised how much it bothered Gareth, I’d tried to hide it. To minimise my power and strength.

That had been pretty much impossible though. Supes could smell the power on other supes. It was like an evolutionary warning system that quickly told you who the biggest predator in the room was.

In most rooms, it was me. 

I didn’t care about stuff like that. I never had. I just wanted to live my life and have fun. Not get caught up in dick-measuring contests with other immortals.

Gareth had cared. Maybe that was why he’d felt the need to cut me down so much. It gave him the power over me that he desperately craved.

I’d been a moron to stay with him for so long. These past few weeks with Lochlan had reinforced that.

“If you’re not worried about it, why were you tensing up whenever he sent you a message? Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“I was embarrassed,” I ducked my head down. “The more time I spent with you, the more I realised how stupid I’d been to put up with Gareth’s bullshit. I was so weak. I let him manipulate me into someone I wasn’t. I was…I was ashamed.”

“Ash.” When I didn’t look up, Lochlan’s hand tilted my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. The pity I’d been expecting wasn’t there. Just a hint of sorrow and a boatload of fury. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed about. He is the one who should be ashamed, not you. I’d never judge you for anything. Especially in a situation like this.”

“I know. But the last few weeks with you they’ve been,” I blew out a breath, trying to think how to put my feelings into words. “Awesome. Happy. And just so fucking easy. I didn’t want to burst our bubble.”

“I get that,” Lochlan said softly. “I’ve loved these past few weeks too. But we can’t know if we’ve got something real if we don’t let the bad stuff in too. I want to be with you, Ash. For the good and the bad.”

 My mouth dried out. “You do?”

He smirked at me. “Thought the fact I haven’t left your side for almost a month now might’ve tipped ye off.”

“I do too. Want that, I mean. You. The good. The bad. Everything you said.” Christ. Saying words was easy. Sentences though, were apparently out of my reach when Lochlan was offering me more than I’d dared hope for.

Giving up on trying to articulate, I leaned over the table to kiss him. Before our lips met, Lochlan covered my mouth with his hand. “Hang on, bràmair. We haven’t finished talking about your ex yet.”

I sat back in my seat with a pout. “What about him? He’ll stop eventually. That’s why I’ve not been engaging him. He’ll give up soon, it’s in his nature.”

“Ash, I think it’s more serious than you realise. He’s stalking you. We can’t just ignore that.”

I frowned “What? No he’s not.”

“Yes, he is,” Lochlan tapped my phone. “Read the message again.”

I did as he asked, the blood draining from my face as I spotted it.

You can prance around with that mage all you like…

“Motherfucker,” I cursed. “How fucking dare he.”

Jumping to my feet, I paced the kitchen tugging at my hair. “I thought he’d stoop low, but I hadn’t thought he’d do this. What am I going to do?”

“Easy, bràmair,” Lochlan stood and grabbed me in his arms, rubbing his hands over my back. “You’re not alone in this. I know you said he’s no match for you, but I won’t let that happen. He’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

“But I don’t want that happening either,” I said, ice dripping down my spine at the mere thought. “What if he gets too close to you? If he bites you, I’ll lose you.”

When I bit Lochlan, my venom was kept safely at bay.

Gareth wouldn’t do that. He’d end Lochlan without a second thought.

Lochlan stroked my back soothingly. “Bràmair, he wouldn’t be able to get within six feet of me. I’d end him before he got close enough.”

I peered up at him curiously. “Okay, not to question you because I know you’re powerful…but what makes you so confident?”

“You haven’t spent much time around water mages, have you?”

“Well, I’ve spent a lot of time with one particular water mage, but otherwise…no. Can’t say I have.”

Lochlan chuckled. “Okay, so you get that I can control liquid, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That includes blood.”

I tilted my head to the side. “I’m not following. How does that help?”

Lochlan stepped back with a bemused smile. “It’s much easier if I show you. Do you mind?”

“Will it hurt?”

“No,” Lochlan shook his head emphatically. “I’d never hurt you. It’ll just feel weird.”

I was intrigued. “Go for it.”

Lochlan didn’t move.

And suddenly, I couldn’t move.

My entire body was frozen still like Lochlan was somehow controlling…

My blood. 

He was holding my blood in place, rendering me completely powerless.

It lasted for less than two seconds before the sensation passed. My body sagged forwards, straight into Lochlan’s waiting arms.

“Shit, are you okay? It feels weird, I know, but now you know you don’t have to worry -”

I shut him up with a kiss, jumping up and wrapping my legs around him. Lochlan caught me with ease.

“I’m not worried,” I said between kisses. “I’m turned on. You’ve been holding out on me.”

Lochlan groaned as I thrust against him. “Ash, we need a plan.”

“Sex first, plan later.”

“Fine, but I want you to bite me. You’re not the only one who finds power a turn-on.”

I let my fangs graze against his neck, my tongue teasing at the skin. “Anything you want, Lochlan.”

Seriously, anything. I was realising I’d do whatever he’d ask. Maybe that was because I knew he’d never ask me to do the one thing I’d refuse to do for a man again.

Change.

CHAPTER EIGHT

LOCHLAN

The plan turned out to be trickier than expected.

Not coming up with one but agreeing on one.

My idea had been to pay Gareth a little visit. I wasn’t a violent person, far from it. Yes, my powers were considerable, but to me it was just another skill like being able to cook or dance. It wasn’t something I liked to utilise unless needed.

For Ash, though, I’d do it without question. All I needed was five minutes alone with his fucker of an ex, and I could guarantee he wouldn’t bother Ash again.

However, Ash wasn’t a fan of this plan. I was beginning to see that he wasn’t keen on confrontation, which was probably why he’d stayed with Gareth for so long in the first place.

Ash’s idea was to change his phone number and not do anything unless Gareth forced our hand.

Needless to say, I was one hundred percent against this plan. Unlike Ash, I didn’t think Gareth was going to go away of his own accord, especially after Ash had let me read through the rest of the messages.

It was almost chilling to see how Gareth was unwinding as time went on. The more Ash ignored him, the more threatening he became.

So no. I wasn’t about to sit and wait to see what happened next. Not when Ash was potentially in danger.

Equally, I wouldn’t go against Ash’s wishes…which put us at an inconvenient impasse.

After a lot of discussion, we met in the middle.

Ash sent Gareth a message telling him in no uncertain terms that he was involved with someone else and not to contact him again. That was fine, but to make matters clear, I followed it up with my own message.

This is Lochlan, the ‘someone else’ he’s involved with. If you threaten Ash again or continue to stalk him, I’ll be paying you a personal visit. From what Ash’s told me, you don’t like being the least powerful supe in the room. Trust me when I tell you that I have no problem showing you just how insignificant your powers are compared to mine.

Okay, so it was a bit arrogant, but I meant it.

If Gareth continued to fuck around, he was going to find out.

Ash had rolled his eyes but let me hit send anyway. “Maybe he’ll back off now.”

“Maybe.” Yeah, there was no way. Everything Ash had told me about Gareth suggested he wasn’t going to fuck off without a fight.

It was just a matter of when it’d happen.

I knew Ash was capable of handling himself if Gareth did make the moronic mistake of getting physical, but I was still worried. What if he caught him off guard? 

To try and ease my fears, I added several layers of wards around Ash’s house and work. He already had some, of course, but Gareth wouldn’t be familiar with my signature. Hopefully it’d be enough to slow him down until I got there.

With Ash’s permission, I also reached out to Cassie to see if she could help. Turned out she was more than happy to provide some assistance. Apparently she’d been waiting for the go-ahead from Ash to throw some curses at the fucker.

It’d take her a week or so to come up with something that we could use to force him to stay away. In the meantime, I just had to hope he wouldn’t show his face. And that if he did, we’d be able to handle it.

I wasn’t letting him hurt Ash. He might not have ever raised a hand to him, but the emotional trauma he’d put him through had left deep scars.

I wouldn’t let him add anymore. Not while I was still breathing.

It was a couple of days later and I was humming as I approached Ash’s door. 

He’d broached the subject of us exchanging keys yesterday. I’d been so touched by the gesture, so moved by the fact that Ash was as into this as I was, that I’d been robbed of the ability to speak. Again.

Instead, I’d gone to my knees and used my mouth to show him my feelings in other ways.

This was the first time I was using it, and I couldn’t deny the satisfied thrill that zipped through me as I opened the door. 

But that sensation went away as an eerie silence met me.

Dropping my bag, I walked deeper into the house. “Ash?”

Nothing. My power zipped from me, searching him out.

Upstairs.

Something had to be wrong. In the time I’d known Ash, I’d never known him to be quiet or still.

He’s probably asleep, I reassured myself as I took the stairs two at a time. 

But what if he isn’t…what if Gareth crossed your wards without you realising and…

I skidded to a halt in front of Ash’s open bedroom door. Relief slammed into me so hard that my knees went weak.

Ash was in bed but not asleep. No, he was reclined against his pillows, a pair of headphones over his ears, and a kindle in his hands.

So he was the man who never stopped…unless he was reading.

Fuck, just when I thought I couldn’t fall for him anymore, he turned around and made it happen anyway.

Sneaking up beside him, I snagged the headphones off his ears and kissed his head. “Hey.”

“Fuck me!” Ash jumped a foot in the air before glaring at me. “You scared me.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing noise cancelling earphones with everything that’s going on…”

Ash didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on my lower half and mouth agape.

Puzzled, I glanced down to see what had captured his attention. It’d been surprisingly warm this morning so I’d gone for my kilt instead of trousers.

When you got to my age, you didn’t really care so much about fashion. I liked wearing kilts just not during winter. I may be Scottish, but even I had my limits.

I gave Ash an amused smile. “You okay there?”

He swallowed a couple of times before he managed to squeak his words out. “You’re wearing a kilt.”

“Aye,” I replied in bemusement. “So I am.”

He fingered the material, the kindle now forgotten on the bed. “And are you um…”

I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back my laughter. “Am I naked under here?”

His head bobbed so fast I worried it might fall off. Stepping closer to him, I leaned down and whispered huskily in his ear. “Why don’t ye find out?”

Ash’s hands slid up the back of my thighs. When he hit my bare cheeks, he gave a guttural groan. “Fuck, Lochlan. You can’t do this to me. How am I supposed to cope knowing you’re walking around like this? I just want to bend you over and fuck you while you’re wearing it.”

My cock was now tenting the material by Ash’s face. “I’m on board for just that.”

Ash’s hands froze. “Really? You mean it?”

I hadn’t bottomed for Ash yet. Whenever we’d been fooling around, he’d insisted on me fucking him. I’d thought maybe he’d changed his mind, but perhaps this was a case of miscommunication. “Really. I’m dying to feel ye inside me. But only if you want to.”

“Fuck yes,” he scrambled to get up but, in his haste, managed to get tangled in the duvet.

I caught him with a chuckle before he could face plant on the floor. “Easy, tiger.”

“It’s your fault,” he said, his cheeks a similar shade to his hair. “You can’t tell me I can fuck you while you’re wearing a kilt and expect me to not get excited.”

“I’m not,” I reassured him, my hands going under his shirt to tweak his nipples. “I like ye excited.”

“This bodes well for me as I’m going to be very excited when I get inside you,” his finger was stroking over my hole. “Meaning I’m going to last like thirty seconds.”

“That’s okay. Trust me, bràmair, we’ll be repeating this. A lot.”

My chest tightened at the way Ash’s face lit up at that. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“It’s not just about trust,” I told him, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I want this. I want you.”

I descended on his mouth, my tongue hungrily seeking out his. Both his hands were up my kilt now, one on my cock. The other between my cheeks. 

“On the bed,” he said after a few minutes of this. “I want you on your knees. Face down, arse up.”

“A classic,” I quipped, positioning myself as requested. A breeze hit my backside as Ash pushed my kilt up. My cock began to drip on the bedspread as I shivered. Fuck, there was something so hot about being fully dressed yet open to Ash.

He nudged my thighs further apart, using his hands to spread my cheeks. I was expecting to feel the coldness of the lube working me open.

Instead, it was the heat of Ash’s tongue swiping over me.

“Fucking hell, Ash,” I groaned. “Yes. Give me more.”

Ash obliged, his tongue working me over until the muscle had softened enough to let him in. 

I had no idea what sounds were coming out of my mouth as he started to fuck his tongue in and out of me. I imagine it was some combination of cursing mixed with praise for the wonder that was Ash’s tongue.

Fuck, if this was how good his tongue felt, his cock was going to destroy me.

Just when I couldn’t take it any longer, Ash grabbed the lube. He finished stretching me with his fingers, seeking out my prostate until I was incoherent once again.

“You fibbed to me,” I panted over my shoulder as he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the head of his cock. “You made me think you hadn’t done this much.”

Ash gave me a small smile, his own chest heaving as he pushed inside me. “I said I didn’t top often. Not that I wasn’t good at it.”

He continued to slide deeper and my toes curled. I’d been right. That curve to his shaft was in the perfect place to hit my prostate.

“You okay?” He breathed when he was fully seated.

Words were impossible when he was making me feel this way. Instead, I answered him by easing forward and slamming back.

Ash got the hint. Rucking the material of my kilt in his hands, he used it to hold me back against him as he fucked me relentlessly.

My cock was bouncing against my abdomen, leaving strings of pre-cum behind. Part of me wanted to reach down and stroke myself over the edge, but I couldn’t move. 

I couldn’t do anything except lay with my face in the pillow, letting Ash ruin me. 

“Bite?” Ash panted.

God yes. I nodded furiously, twisting my head to the side to give him access to my neck.

His fangs pierced my skin and the now familiar pleasure rolled over me. Then, to my surprise, my orgasm hit. For the first time ever, I came hands free, vision whiting out with the intensity.

Ash followed me, moaning against my neck as his tongue laved over his bite.

Once my pulse had slowed, I finally found my voice.

“Wow.”

“You’re telling me,” Ash said breathlessly. “I think you need to wear kilts more often.”

I smiled against the pillow. I’d wear them every damned day for Ash if he wanted me to.

Anything to keep feeling like this.

CHAPTER NINE

ASH

The next morning, I was making us breakfast while Lochlan took a shower. Capital FM was belting out of the Bluetooth speaker, mingling in the air with the mouth-watering smell of bacon.

Taking it off the hob, I shimmied over to the table and sang along loudly and out of tune.

Fuck. I was so happy.

After plating up the bacon, Lochlan still hadn’t appeared. Unable to sit and wait for him, I decided to take the rubbish out to the bin.

Whistling the song from the radio, I hot-footed it over the path to the dustbin and offloaded the bin bag. There. Another job done.

I went to turn around, but a dagger appeared against my throat.

“Hello, Ash.” 

Alarm zipped through me. My fangs extended, venom filling my mouth. “Let me go, Gareth.”

His hot breath filled my ear, making me cringe. “Nope. Don’t think I will. I’ve been waiting for you to step over the wards for days now. You and I are going to take a little drive. It’s time we put this nonsense behind us once and for all.”

I went to shove the dagger away but stopped at Gareth’s tsking noise.

“Wouldn’t do that, now. Not with a cursed dagger.”

I froze. There wasn’t much that could kill me. There weren’t even that many cursed daggers that could. 

That didn’t mean that none could. Did I want to roll the dice?

Nope. Not really.

“Now, let’s get going before your boyfriend appears. Don’t worry, he’s probably going to be glad to get rid of you. I mean, really, pink hair? And what’s with the music you’re listening to? Honestly, I’m doing him a favour.”

He was dragging me backwards, away from the house and the safety of the wards. With the dagger against my throat, I was powerless to stop him. Fuck. I should’ve taken Lochlan’s suggestions more seriously. 

Lochlan.

Tears filled my eyes as I stared at the house. Would he realise what had happened? Would he come after me?

Even if he didn’t, I wasn’t going down without a fight. Gareth would have to take the dagger away from my neck at some point. 

That’s when I’d strike. This time there’d be no hiding my power or my strength.

I’d never hit my limit before. Never gone beyond the boundary where I’d lose control.

But Gareth had dragged me through it as he dragged me away from Lochlan.

“Here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to get in the car and-”

He broke off mid-sentence. The dagger at my throat suddenly clanged to the floor.

My head snapped up to see Lochlan striding from the house completely naked except a small towel tucked around his waist. Water dripped from him like he’d jumped from the shower and charged straight out here.

“Actually, we’ll be the ones telling you what’s going to happen next.” Lochlan reached us, fury clouding him like a storm. “You’re going to get in your car and leave. And if you ever come within a mile of Ash again, I’ll drain your blood without a second thought.”

With Lochlan at my side, I turned to face my ex. He was frozen in place, just like Lochlan had done with me that day in the kitchen. From the pain in his eyes, he was having a very different experience to the one I’d had.

Gareth obviously hadn’t been doing well since our break-up. His hair hung in greasy strands around his face. His clothes were dirty and torn, like he’d been sleeping in them for several days. 

Strangely I felt almost sorry for him. Almost. I mean, he had just tried to kidnap me. 

“You need to leave and stay away from me,” I said, holding his eyes and speaking firmer to him than I had ever dared to before. “I don’t want you, Gareth. Deep down, I don’t think you want me either.”

I nodded at Lochlan to release him, ready to have this over with. I wanted to go inside and snuggle up with Lochlan, far away from horrid exes and cursed daggers.

Gareth gave a shuddering gasp as Lochlan removed his hold. He fell forward, his hands catching on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Giving him one final withering look, we turned our backs on him forever.

Or so I thought.

We hadn’t taken more than a step when Lochlan went crashing forward. Gareth had thrown himself at his unguarded back. He was snarling, his eyes wild as venom dripped from his fangs.

His fangs that were less than a centimetre from the creamy skin of Lochlan’s neck.

I didn’t stop to think.

Grabbing Gareth around the throat, I ripped him off Lochlan. The force I used sent him flying through the air. There was a loud crunch of metal as he slammed into his car, the frame rocking from the impact.

I didn’t give him a chance to respond. Didn’t wait for Lochlan to hold him in place.

No. He’d tried to end Lochlan.

His death was mine to take.

Launching myself at him, I pinned him in place with my arm across his chest.

He tried to shove me away, his mouth falling open in shock when I didn’t budge.

My fangs were out. I was ready.

Gareth’s eyes fell on them and he began to babble. “Ash, you don’t want to do this. You love me, remember? You’re just overreacting.”

“You’re right,” I told him. “Sometimes it is annoying listening to someone else babble.”

I didn’t say anything more before plunging my venom-coated fangs into his throat.

I felt no remorse as Gareth’s form fell still. No regret as I stripped his immortality from him.

He’d risked it all the second he’d gone after Lochlan.

Now he couldn’t threaten either of us ever again.

When it was over, I turned around and walked straight into Lochlan’s embrace. We could deal with the body later. Murder and body disposal was a necessary part of supe life. Without laws to govern us, this was often the outcome of situations like this.

It wasn’t the first time I’d killed, and I doubted it would be the last. 

Even so, I was ready to get back inside and forget this had ever happened. It was only as Lochlan held me that I realised how close we’d come to losing this. What we had was new, but it was precious. Necessary.

Worth fighting for.

I peered up at him. The mage who’d listened to me. The one I thought I’d never find. “Hey, Lochlan?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

My words transformed his face. Gone was the fury. The stress. The worry.

It was just Lochlan, beaming at me.

“I love you too, bràmair.”

Leaning against his chest, I let the sound of his heartbeat settle me. “You know, you never did tell me what that means.”

“Bràmair? It has several meanings. Sweetheart. Partner. Boyfriend.”

I snorted. “Hang on, have you been calling me your boyfriend since our first date?”

Lochlan gave me a sheepish grin. “What can I say, when you know, you know. And with you? I knew within thirty seconds.”

“Fibs. You didn’t know what to think when you first saw me.”

“You’re right. I didn’t. You stripped away my ability to speak, think, or even dream. You stood before me, and it was like nothing else existed.”

Tears filled my eyes. “I really love you.”

He kissed the end of my nose. “I really love you too. Even if you do put your milk in your cereal first.”

My laughter was swallowed up by his lips. I was so damned grateful Cassie had pushed me to take the leap. 

Cupid hadn’t just found my perfect match in Lochlan.

He’d found my everything. 

And now, I was never going to let him go.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

LARK TAYLOR

Lark lives with her family in southern England. When she’s not reading or writing, she can be found hiding from adult life in escape rooms, travel and the MCU.

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LOVE ME LOVE MY DOGS

MACY BLAKE

CHAPTER ONE

“Just wear it, George. It looks nice.”

George mimicked Wanda’s voice as he tugged at the neck of the new collared shirt his office manager had shoved into his hands after his morning workout. She hadn’t even given him a chance to ask about it.

George griped to his companion in the truck. “The T-shirts were just fine. Plus, it’s February. Why’d Wanda have to order these short-sleeved collared monstrosities?”

Not that George ever got cold. It was one of the perks of being a wolf shifter. Needless to say, his companion didn’t reply other than to let out a really loud snore.

Gaston, George’s French bulldog, was the love of his life. They went everywhere together, including the weekly farmers market where George sold his homemade dog food and treats. The business supported his life’s work, Duko’s Den, the animal sanctuary he ran with his fellow wolf shifter and friend, Wanda.

“You could at least have a little sympathy for me, Gassy.”

Gaston opened one eye at the sound of his nickname, then closed it again with a huff. Yeah, George was acting like a big, whiny baby. He wasn’t a fan of change, and ever since the incident⁠—

“Ridiculous rock stars with their rabid fans.”

Gaston snorted.

“Yeah, I know. But we were doing fine. We didn’t need to ride the coattails of some hunky pop star with his legions of adoring fans.”

George pulled in a breath and focused on slowly exhaling. Apparently, the technique was supposed to calm him down.

It didn’t.

He’d turn on the radio, but it never failed that when he did, one of his songs would be playing.

George really didn’t like change.

But at the end of the day, he was grateful.

Mostly.

As he pulled into the parking lot of the farmers market, George couldn’t help but smile. Breathing techniques had nothing on the familiar sights, sounds, and smells. He loved this place. No matter what else changed, he’d always show up for the customers who’d been supporting his pack from the beginning.

The sanctuary didn’t need the money from his sales at the market these days. For a while, the income they’d made from his homemade food and treats had been all that kept them afloat. When things got dire, George had taken on a bunch of side hustles. It hadn’t been easy, but with a lot of hard work and sleepless nights, they’d done it.

George sighed and tugged at the too-tight sleeve band that didn’t make it over his bicep. He planned on having words with Wanda about this later. The shirts were undoubtedly part of some nefarious plot to lure more lurking fans into his booth at the market.

It was just George’s luck that some mega rock star who sent trillions of teenagers into hissy fits happened to share George’s name. His exact name.

What were the odds?

No, seriously.

The odds had to be slim to none.

Right?

Yeah, not so much.

Other George Duko was a megahunky—Wanda’s words, not his—singer who sold out stadiums worldwide. Ever since the release of other George’s first hit album, Duko’s Den had been fielding calls from overwrought fans who thought they’d been clever enough to track down a connection to their idol.

Nope, it was just an animal sanctuary with seventy-five animals to support and an extremely cranky wolf shifter in charge who preferred to be left alone.

George wanted to be grateful because those obsessed fans made sure rich and famous George learned about Duko’s Den. The guy even posted about it on his social media, and the damn post had gone viral—which was why George referred to it as the incident.

Donations had poured in—enough to fund the sanctuary for at least the next decade. They’d also paid for some much-needed improvements to George’s nearly two-hundred-acre property. George had been able to rescue fifteen more dogs and purchase some medical equipment that had never even made it to his wish list to keep on site.

The problem wasn’t the donations. It was the gazillion phone calls that came with them, plus the now overwhelming need for social media management. Luckily, Wanda volunteered to handle that aspect of the incident, even if she always seemed to post shirtless George pictures to the Instabook or whatever it was called.

Then there were the teeny-boppers who followed George everywhere because they were convinced George and other George were secretly related. He’d had to install security cameras to keep them off his land.

George huffed.

Glamorous rock stars with their pretty faces and fancy clothes. No thanks. He’d stick with his threadbare jeans and the Wanda-approved too-tight shirt that happened to be the same sky blue as his eyes—another Wanda idea he’d had no involvement in. Hell, they’d needed branding for the Den ever since the incident required them to develop a marketing plan.

How was this his life?

All he wanted to do was save dogs. In his experience, they were a lot better than anything that walked on two legs.

“Gassy, I’m gonna need you to distract any teenage interlopers today, okay? Engage the snuffle-snorts if they try to talk to me.”

Gaston snorfled. He clearly agreed with George’s plan. His fur baby was more than accustomed to George’s complaining about his rock star name-twin. Then again, Gaston slept through almost everything, which was why he was George’s perfect companion.

In fact, only a few words would get Gaston to move his sleepy butt. Even though George had already parked the truck in the farmers market parking lot, Gaston remained fast asleep on the passenger seat. Oh no, not even stopping the truck or unhooking Gaston’s safety harness was enough to rouse his sleepy pup.

“Kendra!” George said.

A split-second later, he had fifty pounds of French bulldog on his lap. When Gassy realized he’d been tricked, he huffed and plopped down on George’s lap before letting out an annoyed grunt. The side-eye left no doubt as to Gaston’s opinion of George’s trickery.

“I see how it is. You love Ms. Kendra more than me.” Gaston tilted his head and gave George a look only a besotted bulldog owner could love. “I know, buddy. She spoils you rotten. Let’s go get the booth set up.”

After loading all his supplies onto a hand cart, George and Gaston made their way to their assigned booth.

“Gaston!”

Every single week, the sound of Kendra’s voice sent Gaston into a fit of butt wiggles that nearly shook his chonky rear end off his body. She reached into the pocket of her white apron and pulled out the special treat she’d brought for Gaston every week since their first visit to the market.

Gaston plopped down onto his butt, using his manners like a good boy. Kendra cooed over him before giving him the bone-shaped cookie. George probably should be jealous of Gaston’s eager reaction, considering he made treats himself, but he wasn’t.

Even though Gaston was incredibly friendly and the perfect booth mascot, he didn’t go crazy over too many people. George loved seeing Gaston’s and Kendra’s adoration for each other. And there he went smiling again. He wished the farmers market happened more often. Maybe he wouldn’t be so cranky all the time.

While Kendra gave Gassy all the pets he could manage, George put his tablecloths over the stalls in his booth and began setting up his displays. The one thing other George couldn’t take away from him was his loyal customers who came from miles around each week to pick up fresh treats and food for their pets.

Gaston wandered into the booth a few minutes later and plopped down onto the fluffy bed that George always put under one of the tables. Within seconds, the soothing sound of snores poured around him.

Wanda arrived half an hour later with the rest of the food containers and the tablet George always managed to forget. Technology, branding, and marketing plans were the bane of his existence. Well, except for the overzealous fans, obviously.

“You look like a rabid dog,” Wanda grumbled. “Pretend like you’re happy to be here.”

George scowled. “I am happy to be here.”

“So act like it.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” George said. “Why are you being…weird? Also, why are you still here?”

“I thought you might need some backup today.”

“Backup?” George never needed backup once they got everything set up and Wanda ensured the tablet worked.

“Yeah, you know. Someone to…uh, staff the booth. In case, uh, you get busy.”

George backed up a step.

Then another.

“Oh no.”

“What?”

“Wanda.”

“What?”

“You didn’t.”

She grinned. “I might have.”

Goddess save him.

“I specifically told you I didn’t want to⁠—”

“Technically, you said you had no interest in filling out some form on some stupid app.” George didn’t appreciate her imitation of his voice or what she said next. “So I did it for you. That’s what besties do.”

George tried not to hyperventilate. “I’m fine, Wanda. I have you and Gaston and the pack.”

Wanda crossed her arms over her chest. “But Cupid.”

“Do you honestly believe that the Cupid will take the time to make matches from some app? It’s false advertising. You’ve probably set me up with some serial killer or something. Oh my goddess, you know most serial killers start with pets, right? My babies!”

Wanda snorted. “Nice try with the fake dramatics. I liked the high-pitched voice there at the end, too. It was a nice touch. Now shush and do some push-ups so your arms are nice and bulgy.”

George glanced down at the too-small shirt, then back up. “You evil, wicked wolf.”

Wanda grinned and adjusted the sleeve so it sat just above his bicep. “Oh look, it’s time to open. You have a couple of hours before your date arrives. I expect both you and Gaston to be on your best behavior.”

George groaned but didn’t have a chance to complain because Silvia appeared with her little Chihuahua, Arlo. They were two of his favorite customers.

“Arlo!”

Gaston darted from his bed as Silvia handed the little yipper-snapper to George. He immediately settled against George’s chest before yapping at everyone and everything.

“You’re so ferocious,” George said with a laugh.

“He charged a German Shepherd yesterday,” Silvia said. “The poor dog looked so confused. Fortunately, Arlo only made it about three feet before hitting the end of his leash.”

“That’s your boy.”

Silvia grinned and moved to the bags with food for small dogs. She picked up enough for the week and tried to hand cash to George.

“You keep the cash. I’ll keep Arlo. Fair trade.”

“Yeah, right. You’d send him back so fast. Gaston is the only dog he likes.”

Considering everyone liked Gaston, it wasn’t a surprise.

After handing Arlo back to her, George added a small bag of sardine treats he’d made for the little guy.

“You’re such a sucker,” Wanda said as they walked away.

“Love me, love my dogs,” George replied.

“Here’s hoping,” Wanda rumbled under her breath before walking away.

CHAPTER TWO

“A farmers market is such a weird place for a date,” Braxton said.

They adjusted their blue and purple multi-patterned blazer and brushed non-existent lint from the front of their artfully ripped jeans.

“Not that weird. Lots of people. Things to see and talk about. Make a loop, and then you can part ways if it doesn’t work out,” Asher said.

Asher, Braxton’s oh-so-practical and overprotective cousin, had decided to drive Braxton to the date. He had opinions about Braxton going on a blind date set up through an app. Sometimes, Asher seemed to forget they were both dragons more than capable of taking care of themselves.

Besides, Braxton had joined the Heart2Heart app on a whim after seeing the ad for the Valentine’s Day event. Cupid in charge of the matchmaking? Hell yes.

To say Braxton’s luck in love had been abysmal to date would be the understatement of the century. But with the world’s number one matchmaker helping them out? Hope fluttered in Braxton’s chest, earning them a side-eye from Asher.

“You okay?”

Braxton nodded. “Nervous and excited. I hope he likes me.”

“Well, he’s an idiot if he doesn’t.”

Braxton smiled. “You have to say that. You’re my cousin.”

Asher snorted. “You know better. I like maybe five people, and you’re one of them.”

“Speaking of people you like, how are those mates of yours?”

Braxton twisted in their seat so they could watch Asher talk. Usually a man of few words, Asher could talk for days about his mates. Braxton couldn’t help but smile.

Maybe Cupid would help them find a mate of their own.

Maybe. Braxton shivered. Goddess, they would love to be as happy as Asher.

George, Braxton’s date, had chosen the blind date option through the app, which meant Braxton had little to no information about him—just name, age, pronouns, and species of shifter.

Plus a really great shirtless picture.

Braxton found themself drawn to the big and brawny type, even though most of them wanted nothing to do with Braxton. Being nonbinary wasn’t exactly the easiest place to land when it came to sexuality, but Cupid would have taken that into account when making their match, right?

Their heart fluttered again.

“You, uh, smell…good,” Asher said. “Wait.”

Braxton snickered. “Mikey told you to compliment me, huh?”

“Well, yeah, but you do smell good. Is that new fragrance or something?”

“Just some oils for my skin. I should send you some. Don’t want you getting scaly,” Braxton teased.

“Hardy har har. You might think you’re kinda punny when your nose is kinda runny⁠—”

“But I’m snot.” Braxton cracked up laughing.

Asher’d been teasing them with the same joke ever since they were kids and ended up with the dragon flu at the same time. Their Aunt Dalinda had quarantined the two of them to ensure it didn’t spread to any other children in the clan.

They’d spent two glorious weeks being spoiled rotten by their aunt and uncles.

“Good. You’re smiling now. I don’t like it when you….” Asher hesitated and let out a low growl. “Quillon says I have to stop telling people they can’t feel what they’re feeling.”

Braxton leaned over and dropped their head on Asher’s shoulder. “You want me to be happy, Ash. I don’t mind.”

Asher squirmed uncomfortably. His rough, tough cousin was a big ole softie at heart. “Speaking of ash, if this wolf tries anything funny, he’ll be nothing but a steaming pile of smoldering ruin. Pun intended.”

Braxton smiled and smacked a kiss onto Asher’s cheek. “Come on, cousin. Escort me to the entrance, then go find your spot to hide and spy like we both know you’re going to, even though I distinctly heard you promise your mates you would wait in the car.”

Asher coughed. “Yeah, but I didn’t say where I would park the car, did I?”

Braxton laughed again and opened the car door. After putting on their hat, they once again checked for stray lint. “How do I look?”

“Well, beyond the fact that you’re showing a lot of thigh….” Asher couldn’t hide his teasing grin, even though he tried.

“My legs are my best feature,” Braxton said. “I like to wrap them⁠—”

“Whoa, there now!”

Braxton snickered. “You started it.”

Asher huffed and took a step back. “You look great. And I’ll be…in the car. If you need me, which I’m sure you won’t.”

“Uh-huh.”

Asher grinned and went back to the car. Seconds later, the engine started. No doubt, Asher would find a place where he could both see and hear what was going on inside the market.

With a deep breath, Braxton walked under the wide wooden awning where the booths bustled with customers. Braxton marveled at the fantastic scents they could already pick out: freshly baked bread, peppermint oil, incense, and…wolf.

A woman wearing a sky-blue shirt hurried toward Braxton with a broad smile and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Braxton!”

Braxton smiled politely. “Hello.”

“Hi, I’m Wanda—George’s friend. I’ll take you to him. And wow, you’re even cuter than your picture.”

“George showed you my picture?”

Wanda’s nose wrinkled up a little. “So, um, George might not have known I signed him up for Heart2Heart until an hour or so ago? But—before you panic—believe me when I tell you he wants to find a mate. He’s just a little stubborn.”

“He…doesn’t know anything about me?”

“Nope! But Cupid made the match, right?”

Braxton stopped and chewed their lip. “I’m not sure the magic will work if George didn’t fill out the form. And, you know, I thought he knew….”

“Knew? Oh, about the event? He did. He was just being cranky and didn’t want to deal with the app. He pretends to hate technology. It’s a whole thing. What he really hates is being tied to electronics. He’d rather be dealing with the animals, you know?”

Braxton swallowed hard. “That’s…not what I meant.”

Wanda frowned. “Okay, I’m confused. But I promise you, George is a great guy. He just needed a little push.”

“I thought he knew about me,” Braxton explained. “I⁠—”

“Ohhhh,” Wanda said. She reached for Braxton’s hand and squeezed it. “Let me introduce you. You’ll see.”

Braxton couldn’t seem to resist the look in her eyes. They let her lead them toward a booth decorated in the same blues as her shirt.

And then, there he was. The man from the photo…George. His biceps were bigger in person. Braxton gulped.

“George, come meet Braxton. They got here a bit early. I’ll take over the booth.”

George turned, and his sky-blue eyes locked onto Braxton’s. He froze, his eyes widening. Wanda went behind the table and gave George a less-than-gentle shove. He stumbled forward but finally managed to walk around the table.

“You’re too pretty.”

Braxton blinked. “What?”

“Way too pretty.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

Braxton scowled. “Well, you’re too…muscly.”

George frowned. “No, I’m not.”

“Are too. You’re about to break that poor shirt. What did it ever do to you?”

“Nothing. What?” George glanced down and saw Braxton’s bare skin through the rips in their jeans. He swallowed hard. “So damned pretty.”

Braxton couldn’t decide if George was offended by their appearance or attracted. From the scents rolling off the entirely too handsome wolf, it was the latter.

Then, a giant white furball bounded toward them and sat at Braxton’s feet.

“Oh, aren’t you gorgeous,” Braxton said.

Braxton ignored George momentarily and bent down to greet the giant French bulldog. The moment they did, they had a lap full of dog. Braxton fell to the ground with a laugh. The dog didn’t waste a second climbing onto Braxton’s lap.

“Gaston!” George knelt and tried to pull the dog away, but Braxton swatted George’s hands away and accepted the exuberant sniffing Gaston provided with a laugh.

Braxton looked up, meeting George’s eyes again. Their breath caught as Gaston finished his sniffing and settled on Braxton’s lap.

“He doesn’t normally…” George glanced down at the dog and then back up at Braxton. “…like people.”

“So he takes after his owner?”

George’s eyes widened, and then he snorted. “Maybe so.”

Braxton gave Gaston a few more pets before holding out a hand to George. “Hi, I’m Braxton.”

“George,” George said. “And the giant lump on your lap is Gaston.”

“It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Gassy, go get on your bed.”

George gave the dog a little nudge, and he huffed before shuffling back into the booth. George stood and held out his hand before helping Braxton stand up.

It brought them really close together.

“So pretty,” George grumbled.

George breathed in, and Braxton shivered.

Maybe Cupid knew what they were doing after all.

CHAPTER THREE

George blew out a breath. He’d clearly lost his mind. Instead of dealing with annoying teenagers, George found himself tongue-tied over the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life.

How could this gorgeous…dragon? George was pretty sure he had the scent right, but his entire brain fogged over each time Braxton smiled.

“Dragon,” George said. He’d meant to ask a complete question.

“Wolf,” Braxton said, his smirk matching his tone.

The sass should have been annoying, but it was adorable. George found himself wanting to smile. Again. He’d definitely lost his mind. No doubt about it. This was probably all some freaky dream he’d tell Wanda about when he woke up. Well, he wouldn’t tell Wanda because then she’d take it as a hint that he wanted her to sign him up for the stupid Valentine’s app thingy, and then he’d have to go on a date for real.

George didn’t date. He especially didn’t date pretty people like Braxton.

Pretty people didn’t fit into George’s world. Hell, he spent at least an hour a day cleaning up poop. And don’t even get him started on the hours cleaning up dog hair, mud, and other things better left unsaid.

Braxton’s perfect outfit and fantastic legs would be covered in mud and muck and an assortment of dog hair that might as well be glitter for as easy as it was to remove. No matter how many of those lint roller things George went through, he couldn’t seem to get it all off himself, no matter the occasion.

Surely Braxton, with their beautiful jacket and stylish hat and sparkling eyes wouldn’t, um…where was he?

George swallowed hard.

Oh right, Braxton wouldn’t like the mess involved in George’s life.

But Braxton hadn’t even flinched at Gaston’s brute force earlier, and Braxton’s laugh when Gaston knocked them onto their rear had been…nice.

“If you say I’m too pretty again, I will stomp on your toes. Just so you know.”

George shook his head. He managed to smile and hoped he didn’t look too creepy. Wanda said he needed to work on his awkward facial expressions. For once, George agreed with her. “I suppose you’re just pretty enough.”

Braxton frowned and thumped George in the chest. “And you’re just muscly enough, I suppose.”

“Are you two going to stand there staring at each other all day?” Wanda snapped. “Goddess, go be awkward somewhere else already.”

George scowled at her. “Payback is hell. Remember that.”

“Oh, I don’t think the payback will be hell for this. I’m thinking a real vacation. Two whole weeks of me on the beach with a fruity cocktail. You’re welcome.”

George scowled and turned back to Braxton. “So, um⁠—”

“Why don’t you show me around? Considering you didn’t have time to plan a way to impress me, I’ll cut you a break this time.”

“Pretty and sassy too.” George shook his head even though he couldn’t stop grinning.

“You have no idea. Now, take me to that amazing bread smell.”

“And bossy. Got it.”

Braxton laughed, and George’s heart skipped a damn beat. He wanted to reach out and take Braxton’s hand to regain that connection. What the hell was wrong with him?

He resisted the urge—barely—and led the way toward Kendra’s booth. As usual, the line stretched around the corner, but it tended to move pretty fast.

“How do you even know what to pick?” Braxton asked. “Everything smells like heaven.”

George breathed in the familiar scents, this time with the spicy sweet smell of Braxton in the mix, and smiled. “You can do what I do. I let Kendra pick for me. She’s not let me down yet.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Braxton said, smiling at George. “So since you—well, Wanda, I guess—chose the blind date option, why don’t we get to know each other a little?”

“Twenty questions?” George teased. He got the pretty smile he’d hoped for, and his heart skipped another beat.

“Deal. I’ll go first. What’s your issue with pretty? Cause wow, are you vehemently opposed.”

George winced and looked down. “It’s a, uh, recent trauma. Sort of.”

“That’s not an answer.”

No. No, it wasn’t.

“Did you happen to notice the name on the signs at my booth?”

“Yes, and if I hadn’t, it says it on your shirt.”

Braxton had that smirk on their face again. George wanted to see if he could taste the sass on Braxton’s lips. He settled for putting his hand on Braxton’s back as the line moved forward.

“Anything seem…familiar?”

“About Duko’s Den?” Braxton frowned and shook their head. “No. Wait. Duko. George Duko?”

“I’m the not famous one.”

Braxton laughed. “Clearly. And rock star George is very pretty, I’ll give you that.”

“Everything changed a year or so ago when he hit it big. His fans hunted me down, thinking we were related. It was a whole thing.”

“And you were traumatized.”

“Braxton, we had to create a marketing plan.” The laugh George got was worth the embarrassment over his confession. “My turn. What would I have learned about you on the app if my best friend had been so kind as to show your profile to me?”

Braxton’s scent changed, and George stilled. He’d thought the question was pretty tame.

“Well, you’d have learned that I’m nonbinary and prefer they/them pronouns.” Braxton looked everywhere but at George as they made the statement.

“Right. Wanda introduced you as they, so I figured. Is that, uh, all?”

“All?” Braxton asked, turning to look up at George, their eyes wide.

“Yeah? I mean, I know you’re a dragon, which is no big deal. I don’t know much about nonbinary people, but I’m sure you’ll tell me what I need to know or point me in the right direction to find out more. I guess I’m just not sure why you smell…scared.”

Before Braxton could answer, the line moved forward enough to put them within sight of Kendra. She beamed and hurried over to George, then shot a speculative glance toward Braxton.

George headed her off at the pass before she started her own game of twenty questions. “Kendra, this is my new friend Braxton. They’ve never been here before, so I thought we’d both get the Kendra recommendations.”

“Oh, I’ve got some good stuff today.” She hurried for one of the brown bags she used to put bread in and filled it up.

George handed over his card, and she swiped it gleefully. She’d probably given him way more carbs than he needed in a week so she could bribe answers out of him about Braxton. It was a pretty good plan. It might even work, depending on how the rest of the day went.

Braxton got their own smaller bag. When they tried to pay, Kendra waved them away. “First one’s on me. Trust me, you’ll be back.”

As they left the booth, Braxton peeked inside their bag. “What…how….”

“Don’t question it,” George said.

“But…no one makes peaches and cream muffins.”

“They’re your favorite, though, and Kendra just happened to have them today. Yep. It’s a thing. Like I said, we don’t ask questions.”

Braxton glanced back toward the booth. “She’s a kitchen witch.”

George smiled and leaned closer. “Her coven runs the market.”

“Oh, that explains so much,” Braxton said. They pinched a piece of muffin from the top and popped it into their mouth.

George’s mouth watered, and it had nothing to do with the baked goods. He licked his lips as Braxton licked theirs. Then Braxton hummed with happiness, and George…well, he forgot the rest of the world existed.

At least until a solid thud against his leg shook him out of his stupor. He blinked and looked down to find Gaston pressed against him, gazing up at him with an adoring look.

“Is there something I can do for you, my liege?” George asked.

Braxton laughed as Gaston’s rear end began to wriggle.

“Fine, you can come on our walk. Nosy butt.”

George looked up from his adorable dog to see Braxton’s smile was wider than ever. He took a risk and held out his hand. “Let me show you around.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Braxton took George’s hand and sighed at the warm, calloused grip. Gaston waddled ahead of them but never got more than a couple feet away. From the reactions of the staff at the rest of the booths, Gaston was the true star of the day. Everyone paused what they were doing when he reached their area to give him scritches and even a few kisses.

It was honestly the sweetest thing Braxton had ever seen.

Unless Braxton counted the way George kept looking at them. No one had ever looked at Braxton with a combination of fear, longing, hope, and, well, lust. George’s thumb brushed over Braxton’s hand in a gentle stroke. Braxton didn’t think George was even aware of the sweet touch.

A bubble of want made its way from Braxton’s belly to their brain. Caution was their middle name, but for some reason, throwing it to the wind seemed like the best decision they could make. Pulling George behind a booth lacked all logic and reason, but Braxton did it anyway.

Their breath came in quick gasps. George shuddered and put his hand on Braxton’s waist. And then George slowly lowered his head, searching Braxton’s gaze the entire time. Braxton closed the final distance between them, and the moment their lips touched, everything clicked into place.

George held Braxton close even as he moved his lips away. “I…you’re….”

“Yeah,” Braxton said. “I’m yours.”

“You’re still entirely too pretty.”

Braxton grinned and searched George’s gaze. “At least I don’t have all those bulgy muscles.”

George laughed, but he froze before he could pull Braxton against him again. “Dragon,” George growled.

It took Braxton a second to realize George wasn’t referring to them. Nope. There happened to be another dragon close by. A very nosy dragon. “Asher, go away! I’m having a moment here.”

His cousin appeared from behind a stack of bins. “I couldn’t see you.”

“Asher, this is George. He’s my mate.”

Asher scowled and whipped out his phone. After texting furiously for a long, awkward minute, he glanced at them again. “Congratulations. I’m very happy for you.”

Braxton cackled. “Tell Mikey I said thank you.”

Asher huffed, then scowled again. “What is that…noise?”

George shoved Braxton behind him. It was such a wolf thing to do that Braxton almost didn’t mind. Almost. Of the two of them, Braxton would be the one to protect their mate. It came with the whole dragon territory. George would have to learn to live with⁠—

“Are they chanting Duko?” Asher asked.

Gaston scrambled over to them, obviously concerned by the commotion. George bent and scooped him up. “I should⁠—”

“Go,” Asher yelled. “There are two busloads of them!”

“Of what?” Braxton asked. “What’s happening?”

Asher looked more terrified than Braxton had ever seen him. “Teenage girls,” Asher gasped.

“Wanda!”

“George,” Braxton said, “they’re here for you. We’ve got to get you out of here. Asher, go glare at them and keep them away from George’s packmate.”

“Glare?”

“Yes, Asher. Pretend like you’re Aunt Dalinda that time you broke her favorite vase.”

“You want me to terrify them?” Asher said. “Why not just let me shift? It’ll be less traumatic.”

Asher possibly had a point, but still….

“Asher, go help Wanda!”

With a grumble, Asher stomped back under the awning.

“We have to get to the truck,” George said.

“George!” A lady with long, curly dark hair appeared, startling the crap out of Braxton.

They spun around and pushed George behind them. Their eyes shifted, and the dragon inside surged forward.

“Braxton, no! She’s a friend.”

Braxton breathed in, and her scent immediately soothed him. With a blink, their vision returned to normal. She was one of the coven members, and she was strong.

With a smile, she moved closer, her skirt tinkling with bells as it swirled around her ankles. “Hello, Braxton. I’m Merry, and I can see that my offer for George to make his escape in my car is unnecessary.”

“What?” George said. “No, it is nec⁠—”

“He’s new,” Braxton said, patting George’s arm. “He’ll get used to it after a while.”

“No doubt. Go on. Our wards will protect you until you’re high enough to shield yourself.”

“What? Shield…Merry, what are you….”

“Congratulations on finding your mate, George. I had a feeling your time had come. I prepared a little something for you to celebrate.”

Merry held out a gift bag to George.

“George, I’m going to shift. You’ll need to get on my back and hold on to Gaston, okay?”

“Shift?” George barked. “No way. No one is seeing⁠—”

Braxton shifted, then turned their golden eyes to their mate. Sweet, precious George didn’t want anyone seeing Braxton without their clothes on. But Braxton didn’t have to strip to shift like George did. Their scales rippled, transforming from blue and purple to yellow and pink.

George stood there blinking even as the chants of Duko grew louder.

“George, stop staring at the pretty dragon and go already!”

Merry’s yell finally got through to George. He managed to get on Braxton’s back without dropping Gaston. Merry handed the lovely gift bag to him, then patted Braxton’s neck. “Go east on Highway 56. He should be thinking clearly enough by then to give you directions.”

Braxton nodded. With a giant push of their wings, Braxton hovered several feet off the ground. Once George stopped squawking and tightened his hold, Braxton flew.

After a few panicked seconds, George relaxed. Crisp, cool air surrounded them. George laughed and adjusted his position. “No sudden movements. Gaston is trying to crawl under my shirt.”

The poor pup.

Braxton sucked in a deep breath and blew out a rush of flames. George’s bellowed “yee-haw” was followed by a smack to Braxton’s flank. George was so lucky he had that sweet bulldog in his arms, or he’d learn what happened when a dragon acted like a bucking bronco.

And then Braxton pictured George wearing nothing but chaps, and well….

“Hang a right,” George yelled. “Look for the field with big white privacy fences ahead.”

Braxton made the turn and slowly brought them down in the empty field. George slid off Braxton’s back before kneeling and untangling Gaston from his shirt. Before Braxton could shift, Gaston wiggled out of George’s grip and lifted his leg.

“Gassy!” George’s horrified shout accompanied a warm, wet stream hitting Braxton’s leg.

Braxton looked down and found a very proud Frenchie marching his way toward the big house at the other end of the field.

After giving their leg a shake, Braxton returned to their human form. George hadn’t bothered to stand up. “I can’t believe he did that,” George grumbled.

“I’m trying to decide if he’s mad at me or if he just marked his territory.”

“Both,” George groaned.

“Then I suppose I have to stay.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Stay.

George flopped back onto the grass and covered his face with his arms. “Is it possible to strangle oneself? Asking for a friend.”

Braxton laughed. “Well, you are too muscly. I believe we’ve established that already.”

“I can’t believe my dog peed on you. Thirty seconds in, and you’re pissed on. Why? Why?” George groaned and attempted to smother himself with his biceps. Sure, he was being overly dramatic, but he’d never had a mate before. He’d imagined it, though. A million times. It never seemed like it would become a reality.

Fairy tales were meant for other guys, not for loner wolves who had a mission that had nothing to do with shifterkind. He peeked through the crease in his arm to catch another look at Braxton.

“Are you done?” Braxton asked. “I’m really curious what Merry put in the gift bag, which you don’t seem to care about at all. If you don’t like presents, I’m going to have to request an exchange.”

George grunted. “You can’t exchange me. I’m your mate.”

“I mean, technically, you haven’t claimed me yet. Or I haven’t claimed you. Hmm. That’s a discussion we’ll need to have. Dragons are very…possessive.”

“So are wolves.” George moved his arms and sat up. “Also, I claim you. Done.”

Braxton reached out, and George grabbed their hand. After getting pulled to his feet, George stood and stared awkwardly at his mate. He had a million questions and no idea where to start.

“Pack,” George blurted.

Why couldn’t he seem to form complete sentences around Braxton?

“Yes, George,” Braxton said, patting George’s arm. “Wolves have packs. Good boy.”

George used his oversized muscles to his advantage. He grabbed Braxton by the waist and tossed them over his shoulder. Then he took the opportunity to smack Braxton’s cute butt before he started avoiding the poop landmines that led to the house.

“George!” Braxton yelped. “What are you doing? Put me down.”

“Can’t. Your boots are fancy. You’ve already been peed on. There’s no way I’m letting you step in poop. Wanda will never let me live it down.”

“You’re ridiculous. And very muscly.”

“I know. I work out a lot. It’s sort of my stress reliever. Plus, I’m always wrangling dogs, so it helps to be in good shape. Um, you aren’t afraid of dogs, are you?”

Braxton squirmed in George’s arms and somehow ended up with their legs around George’s waist. They stared into George’s eyes, those beautiful golden dragon eyes searing George’s soul. Oh, he’d been claimed all right. Braxton’s dragon had totally called dibs.

And George didn’t mind one bit.

“I wouldn’t be your mate if I didn’t like dogs, George.”

“Fair, but what if Cupid wasn’t really Cupid, and even though we’re all…sparking or whatever⁠—”

Braxton covered George’s mouth with their hand. “I thought I worried a lot. And even if Cupid isn’t really Cupid, that doesn’t change our feelings. Mates are mates, no matter how they find each other.”

George stopped walking and leaned forward. He stole a quick kiss from Braxton, which earned him a beaming smile. “So once we get through the gate, the krakens will be released. I need to put you down because I’m going to get swarmed.”

“Okay.”

Braxton twisted around and grabbed the gift bag out of his hand. “I’ll just keep this safe for us then.”

George laughed. “You’re dying to know what’s in that bag, aren’t you?”

“You aren’t?”

“No.” George stood in front of the gate. He didn’t want to put Braxton down.

“You’ve got to put me down, George,” Braxton said with a laugh. “And no, I can’t read your mind, but I can read your face. You get a little scowl when you don’t want to do something. It’s really cute.”

“I’m not cute,” George protested as he slowly loosened his arms and let Braxton slide down his body. “And it’s not fair that you’ve figured out the face thing already. It took Wanda forever.”

“Doubt it,” Braxton said.

They leaned together, neither one wanting to break contact. George wasn’t a mind reader either. The grip Braxton had on George’s shirt was a pretty obvious clue.

“We should probably go inside,” George whispered.

“Probably.”

“Gaston is going to get impatient.”

Braxton’s lips brushed against George’s. “How did he get through the fence?”

“Doggy door,” George replied. “His collar has a thing that opens it for him.”

“Fancy,” Braxton gasped. “George, I’m not going to make it inside at this rate, and I think I should meet your pack first. Right?”

“Sure,” George said. “You taste so good.”

Braxton groaned. “Yeah, so do you. And you smell amazing.”

“I smell like dogs. You smell like…good things. Outside and trees and that weird tea.”

“Bergamot,” Braxton said. “It’s used to make Earl Gray.”

George trailed his lips along Braxton’s jaw. “I don’t drink tea.”

“You should,” Braxton said, moving their head so George had better access to their neck. “It’s really good for you.”

“Tastes like dirty leaves.”

“Does not.”

“Does too. But you taste perfect.”

“George,” Braxton gasped. “We’ve gotta⁠—”

Braxton pushed against George’s chest and forced a little distance between them. “Take me to meet your pack.”

George took a couple of deep breaths and tried to clear his head. “Yeah. We’ll do that. Oh shit,” George said. “My pack! Wanda’s going to kill me.”

Braxton tugged out their phone and called Asher, who answered on the first ring. “What?”

“What do you mean, what? Are you and Wanda okay? What happened?”

“Nothing. I glared. They all ran off. It wasn’t even a thing.”

“That’s not what happened!” Wanda yelled loud enough for the entire farmers market to hear her.

George opened the gate and guided Braxton through it. “So what did happen?”

Asher grumbled instead of answering. Braxton put the phone on speaker and held it up. “Asher?”

A few grunts and shuffles later, Wanda spoke into the phone. “Asher tried the glare, but he was no match for the fangirls. So I told them anyone who made a purchase or a donation would get tagged in our next social media post, and we’d make sure other George’s publicist saw it.”

“The screams were deafening,” Asher groaned. “My ears are still ringing.”

“Wait,” Braxton said. “You know George Duko’s publicist?”

“Other George Duko,” George clarified.

“Of course,” Wanda said. “Tallulah and I have been friends since the incident. She’s a big dog lover. She even carries her little Yorkie around in some bag worth a few grand that other George bought her.”

“Ridiculous,” George grumbled. “I’m taking Braxton to meet the pack.”

“You aren’t even going to ask?”

George groaned.

“I’m going to ask,” Braxton chimed in. “Wanda, exactly how much did you make off those fans?”

“Four grand,” Wanda said with a cackle. “Half of that was because I volun-told Asher to take some pictures for our Instagram. We did a reel and everything. They were stoked.”

“Stoked?” George said. “Also, four thousand dollars?”

“I can smell the salty air of my beach vacation now. Go introduce your mate to the pack, George. Goddess, you’re so rude. You should have introduced Braxton an hour ago!”

Before George could reply, the phone lit up, showing the call had ended. “We haven’t even been gone an hour.”

“I like her,” Braxton said. “And wow, your pack is loud.”

George hadn’t even realized they’d started barking. He grinned and looked at the windows. Each one held multiple furry faces, each staring at him. “Yeah, they’re excited I’m home. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

CHAPTER SIX

Braxton technically understood the term release the kraken. Seeing it happen, though? An entirely different experience. The moment George opened the door, what seemed to be an endless stream of dogs came pouring through the entry. They all barreled into George, who gave them all pets while calling each one by name.

The most incredible thing? George looked up, smiled, then went inside to let the rest of the dogs out. He kept the smaller ones in a different area so they didn’t get trampled by the big dogs in all the excitement.

Logical.

But also…how many dogs could one person manage?

Apparently, all of them.

George relaxed the moment the dogs surrounded him. After he greeted them all, they darted toward Braxton and began sniffing every spot they could reach. Cold noses brushed the bare skin showing through the tears in Braxton’s jeans. Another one booped them right in the rear end and took a nice big sniff. Others rubbed against Braxton’s legs.

Braxton couldn’t look away. They were all so beautiful and sweet. “Can I pet them?”

“If you want,” George said. “They’ll let you know if they don’t want to be touched. I’ll keep an eye on you and make sure you’re reading their body language.”

Braxton reached down and immediately got a cold nose to the palm. Then it was all systems go as the pack realized more scritches were now on the agenda. Braxton laughed as they fought their way to them, each desperate to be the next one to receive a pat on the head or a belly rub.

“You’re a natural,” George said.

Braxton looked up. George had somehow moved closer without Braxton realizing it. “Yeah.”

“Come on. Let’s get them outside to do their business, then I’ll show you around my place.”

Braxton nodded. Their dragon purred, happy to be so easily accepted by their mate’s pack.

“Your eyes did the thing,” George said as he held out his hand. “Like your scales before. I didn’t know dragons changed colors.”

Braxton wrapped their fingers together and followed George outside. The dogs darted to the gate, eager to run in the field. Braxton understood the extra tall fences now. George kept his pack safe. Which meant he’d keep Braxton safe too.

“Most of us don’t. I do, depending on how I’m feeling. Sometimes, I feel a little more like a guy and my eyes and scales change to yellows and pinks. If I’m feeling more feminine, blues and purples emerge. And sometimes, I’m all the colors because why choose?”

“Why indeed,” George said. “You’re still too pretty.”

Braxton smirked. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

George tripped over his own feet. “You have an evil streak. You really are my mate.”

Braxton laughed and tugged George’s hand. They followed the dogs through the field as they sniffed and explored. George explained his life’s work and with each passing moment, Braxton fell harder for their new mate.

Very few people in Braxton’s life had found their true passion. Braxton certainly hadn’t found theirs. After bouncing from job to job, nothing had sparked joy in their soul.

Until now.

“You didn’t shift and run away screaming,” George said. “Well, I suppose you’d have screamed then shifted? I don’t know. But you’re quiet, and I’m nervous.”

Braxton leaned in and rubbed their nose to George’s. “You’re amazing. I’m so lucky Cupid knew exactly what I needed.”

George swallowed hard. “Seventy-five dogs and lots of messy work.”

“So much love,” Braxton corrected. “I can’t wait to experience it all. The good, the bad, and the fangirls.”

They slowly walked back toward the house. The dogs had worn themselves out and trotted along beside them. When they got inside, the pack scattered. Some of them found a spot on one of the many fluffy beds that filled the room. Others stuck with George, waiting for more of his attention.

George went into the kitchen and pushed the gift bag over to Braxton. “Go on and open it.”

Braxton ripped the tissue paper out and found several wrapped packages tucked inside. The first contained a little sachet of tea. With a laugh, Braxton held it up. “I think this is for you.”

“Earl Gray,” George groaned.

Braxton took out a heavier bundle next. It held a candle wrapped in a black cloth. A dragon symbol had been etched into the lid. When Braxton opened it, the scent of home washed over them.

George leaned closer and inhaled. “It smells like you. Smoky and woodsy and sexy.”

“How did she know?” Braxton asked. “Never mind. I know better than to question a witch’s way.”

Merry had also provided the makings of a miniature charcuterie board, which reminded Braxton that their bread was still at the market. With a whimper, Braxton looked up at George. “My muffins.”

George laughed and pulled a wooden cutting board from beneath the counter. “Wanda will bring them. She’ll be back soon.”

In that case, Braxton’s hunger moved from the food George carefully placed on the board to another kind altogether. They moved in close to George’s back and wrapped their arms around George’s waist.

“How soon?” Braxton asked before nipping at George’s neck.

George turned and pulled Braxton against him. “Not that soon.”

Then he lifted Braxton onto the counter and pulled them close to the edge. Braxton’s thighs bracketed George’s hips. Braxton leaned in and licked George’s lower lip. Then they kissed George like a mate should be kissed.

George’s hands explored every inch of Braxton’s body. Meanwhile, Braxton disposed of the entirely too small blue shirt. George would wear it daily if Braxton had anything to say about it.

That’s what mates did, after all.

When George’s hand pressed between Braxton’s legs, it sent sparks flying through their entire body. With a shudder, release rocketed through Braxton. Tightening their thighs, Braxton pulled George closer and thrust against him until their orgasm ended.

George gasped for breath, one hand holding Braxton’s back and the other…down his pants. “Hey,” Braxton protested. “That’s mine.”

“Later,” George groaned. “But not too much later.”

Braxton grinned and scooted closer. “I’m going to need something else to wear. Something you don’t mind getting dirty.”

George groaned. Then the dogs began barking. “And I’ll be getting you something to wear right now. Wanda’s back from the market.”

Braxton hopped off the counter when George hurried from the room and took a minute to clean up their mess. After stripping out of the now wet and uncomfortable jeans, Braxton leaned against the counter and waited for George to return.

Movement caught their eye, and Braxton turned to see…something disappearing into the air. Was that…no, it couldn’t have been. Not wings and a bow and arrow. Their eyes were playing tricks on them.

George hurried back into the room and froze. “You’re….whoa.”

“Too pretty?” Braxton suggested.

George grinned and tossed a pair of gray sweatpants through the air. “You’re the exact amount of pretty for me.”

Braxton caught the sweats with one hand. “You’re still too muscly, but they’re growing on me. I guess Cupid knows what they’re doing after all.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

MACY BLAKE

Macy Blake believes in unicorns and fairies, in moonbeams and stardust, and that happily ever after comes in all colors of the rainbow. She loves to lose herself in paranormal romance, living vicariously through her favorite sexy fictional heroes.

These days you can often find her lost in her imagination, trying to capture the magic of her own worlds. When she’s not writing, she’s busy arguing with her feisty German Shepherd, Minerva, and attempting to train her adorable pound puppies, Pomona and Severus.

Connect with Macy

Website: www.macyblake.com

Newsletter: bit.ly/MacyBlakeNews

Facebook reader group: Macy Blake’s Moonlighters

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NOT SO CUPID

MIKA NIX

CHAPTER ONE

RUAIRI

I can’t believe I actually agreed to this nonsense. Staring at my phone, my eyes glued to the screen with the H2H app details, I’m filled with a mixture of annoyance and love for the brother who refuses to let me spend my life alone. The next text from the culprit himself buzzes through.

C: It’s all set. Just show up this time and try not to act like a brute.

R: Me? A brute? Just because I think love is for fools doesn’t mean I’m a brute.

C: Really, Roo? Maybe you forgot the last date ended with that sweet man in tears.

I chuckle at the memory.

R: Not my fault he couldn’t take a harmless joke.

C: Showing him your real face over the bathroom stall is not a harmless joke. Please don’t embarrass me this time. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.

R: Blah. Who is it this time? A Dom with a cuddle fetish? The thrice-divorced mother of three who thought it was amusing to step on ants? Or maybe the twink who was rude to the waiter and acted like royalty?

C: You’ll see.

He follows his comment with numerous emojis, including water droplets, peaches, and several eggplants.

C: All you have to do is show up at the address I’m sending you. You’ll love the venue.

R: I sense trickery afoot.

C: No tricks, Roo. On Mother Venus herself, I promise none. Is it so crazy to want my brother to find his one true mate?

He swore on our mother, which means he’s serious. Maybe I should play nice for once. It’s just…

R: But this one is mortal too? You know how I feel about humans.

C: Be open-minded. I used this new technology on the app I sent you. With only a few magical tweaks from yours truly, it’s foolproof.

Foolproof? Right. Just like the last three times he promised he had found my mate. I’m convinced it couldn’t possibly be a mortal, but what do I have to lose at this point? Maybe I’ll have fun, or enough chemistry for a wild night in the sack. Humans are good at that at least.

R: Fine. I’ll play along, but only because it’s your honorary holiday.

C: I love you too, Roo. See you on February 14.

Chuckling, I type out my goodbye, then lean back on the sofa to contemplate what my well-meaning but meddling brother has gotten me into. Being Cupid’s little brother comes with more than a few nuisances. A new notification comes through the app, providing an address and a dress code. All red, dress to impress. I can manage that.

My date’s name is Weston, but there are no other details about him. The whole concept of a blind date doesn’t bother me as much as it probably should, given my controlling tendencies, but I’m not attracted to people based on looks alone. They have to have something more substantial to them than outer appearance.

Mortals are so… flighty. And arrogant. Generally speaking, they have no understanding or respect for the world around them. They’re so blind they don’t even see the non-human creatures infiltrating and integrating into their societies with ease.

I chuckle, tossing my phone on the couch cushion. My dear brother thinks there’s one of them out there with a heart a fairy like me could love, but he’s Cupid for Zeus’s sake—it’s in his blood to believe in love, and it’s his job to find it. I just wish he’d let me be a cranky old soul by myself. I’m perfectly fine without the complications that come with human infatuation.

But what’s done is done. I signed up for the app and agreed to the date. Mostly to avoid Cupid telling our parents again. I can’t handle my mother’s sad face and my father’s disappointment. If you’ve ever seen the messenger god disappointed, well, I don’t want a repeat. That’s the only explanation I can come up with for why I subject myself to my brother’s yearly experiments on my dating life. My only rule is he can’t use one of his arrows to make either of us fall in love. It has to be real or not at all. Knowing there’s a better chance of Zeus becoming celibate than me falling in love, that’s exactly how I plan to stay single.

* * *

Two nights later, I walk into the ballroom dressed in a cherry-red tailored suit that goes nicely with my auburn hair. I glance around the room at the decorations, quickly noting the hearts ripped in two or with black spray-painted Xs on them before settling on the large banner that says “Love Sucks” on it.

I snort a laugh. Oh, my brother does know me well. At least I can be myself here and not pretend to be a hopeless romantic looking for love.

A woman with a clipboard hurries over to me, dressed in a skintight white dress that has “Love Sucks” painted graffiti style across her slim figure.

“Welcome. Can I get your name please?”

“Ruairi. R-U-A-I-R-I, pronounced ROO-Ree.”

She smiles, scrawling my name on a tag before handing it to me. “Irish?”

“Gaelic, yes.”

“Neat. Enjoy the evening.”

“Thank you.”

She hurries off to greet the next person while I slide my hands into my pockets and stroll through the crowd, glancing at names to look for Weston.

I make it to the refreshments area and pour myself a glass of punch. When I taste it, I nearly spit it out. Far too sweet, and I usually love sweets. A glimmer of ever-present mischief tickles the back of my neck. Before the night is over, I’ll find a way to liven things up.

Already bored, I twist around to search the room again, and then I see him. Standing near the entrance, dressed in a stylish, vampy red suit, with dirty-blond hair, big blue eyes, and pouty pink lips, he looks around nervously. I don’t know how I know it’s him. I just do.

I approach him, taking him in as I do. He must weigh a hundred and twenty soaking wet, which happens to be just my type. Physically anyway. He notices me, zeroing in on my name tag. His face lights up as his eyes flit to my face, and a beautiful smile spreads across his lips. Okay, he’s gorgeous, but he’s still human, so caution is wise.

“Hi,” he says, his voice soft and breathy. “I’m Weston.”

“Hello.” I take the hand he offers, holding it longer than necessary. “Ruairi.”

“Gorgeous name. My ancestors are Irish.” His pink tongue flicks across his glossy bottom lip. “This is interesting. A Love Sucks event?”

Chuckling, I glance at the banner over my shoulder. “Uh, yeah, the venue was a surprise to me too.”

“Fun,” Weston gushes. “Maybe we said something in our profiles that made them think we’d like this.”

“Maybe. Want to sit and talk a little?”

“Absolutely, Mr. Handsome. Lead the way.”

With my hand still in his, I lead him across the large room, navigating around people mingling, to some tables near the back. It’s obviously set up for conversation, given its location away from the DJ, the dim lighting, and the candles on the tables.

Weston sits daintily, tucking a nonexistent lock of hair behind his ear. Given the style of his hair, I doubt it moves at all, but the gesture is oddly beguiling. There’s a hint of makeup on his face—just enough to highlight his already pleasant features. Weston is beautiful, and I have a feeling he knows it.

“Soooo,” he says, resting his arm on the table and propping his chin in his hand. “Tell me everything about you. What made you sign up for an event like this?”

I study his face for a moment, almost disarmed by his attractiveness. “Uh, well, my brother suggested it. I haven’t dated for a while. You?”

“I’m ready. I just…” He gets a dopey smile on his pouty lips and stares off for a second. “I want someone to wake up next to every morning, you know? I want someone I can share all my deepest, truest feelings with. My grandparents were together for seventy years and they died in the same week, and that’s just… so romantic to me.” He sighs, and I frown.

“Death is romantic?”

A light-pink blush creeps over his cheeks. “Not death, no.” He shrugs. “I want to be in love, and I want it to last.”

Oh no. “Er, um, you must be uncomfortable with this party then?”

His smile brightens again. “Oh no, I can be happy anywhere. Life is what you make it. You get out what you put in. Being around a bunch of jaded people doesn’t faze me at all. Besides…” He leans closer. “If they really don’t believe in love, why are they here?”

“Good point.”

He beams, literally batting his eyelashes at me. “I can’t believe you haven’t been snatched up yet. You’re gorgeous.”

“So are you, but looks aren’t everything, are they?”

“Ooh, no, sadly. Especially when you have high standards. I bet you’re a man with discerning tastes.”

There’s that tongue again, gliding across that full bottom lip like Weston’s taunting me to climb across this table and taste his kiss. I just might if he keeps it up.

“You could say that. What are you looking for in a man?”

Weston’s eyes practically shimmer as he shakes his head. “You first.”

“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. “I don’t really buy into all of this.”

“All this? Love?”

“Yeah.”

Weston laughs softly. “Aww, what happened? Someone broke your heart and you can’t get over it?”

“No. It’s nothing like that.”

“Then tell me. What causes a man not to believe in love when it’s literally all around us?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe in it for others. It’s just never appealed to me. I like my life as it is.”

“Then why are you here? It has to be more than peer pressure.”

“It’s not. My brother is… persistent. He’ll leave me alone for another year if I at least try.”

“And why does your brother think you need to date?”

Explaining who my brother is wouldn’t exactly go over well. “He’s a romantic. He loves love, and he thinks everyone would be happier with it.”

“I agree. Is he here?”

“Probably somewhere,” I mutter.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, this brother of yours might be onto something. You and I matched almost perfectly on the app. It made me very intrigued to meet you.” He narrows his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “Now I’m even more interested. How did a jaded pessimist match 99 percent with a romantic optimist? I’m looking forward to finding out the answer. What about you, Ruairi?”

The beautiful man across from me definitely has my interest, but I keep my cool. “The night is young. Would you like a drink?”

“I certainly would.”

CHAPTER TWO

WESTON

Ruairi puts his hand on my lower back as we make our way through the growing crowd of partygoers. It’s a mildly possessive yet gentlemanly move if you ask me, and it definitely adds a few extra points to his tally. I’m a sucker for gingers with freckles, so he’s doing well in that department too. I’d love to say his pessimistic outlook about love is a drawback, but unfortunately, it makes him a lot more my type than I’d like.

What happened to the good old days when love was simple? My grandpa met my grandma two days before he shipped out to fight in World War II. She waited for him and wrote him letters the whole time he was gone. She said she just knew the moment they met that he was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. My heart aches just thinking about it.

Now it’s all dating apps and playing games. I can feel the sads starting to creep in, and I mentally bat them away. This is absolutely no time to get down about the state of modern dating. I scored this date with Ruairi through an app, so they can’t be all bad. And here we are, on the most romantic night of the whole year, ready to fall head over heels in love. Come on, Cupid, do me a solid just this once.

We reach the punch bowl, and I pick up one of the plastic cups.

“I should warn you, I took a sip of this before you got here, and it’s sweet enough to induce an instant diabetic coma if you’re not careful,” Ruairi says dryly as I ladle the bright-pink beverage into my cup.

I grin. “I love sweets.” I bring it to my mouth and take a sip. He’s right; it is sweet—a hint of passion fruit, a zing of lemon, and probably a whole bag of sugar dumped right into the mix. I hum happily, licking my lips.

His eyes follow the movement of my tongue for a moment, and he almost looks mesmerized. My stomach flutters, and my lips pull into another wide smile. At least he’s attracted to me. It’s a start.

“I bet your dentist loves you,” he teases dryly.

“He does, actually.” I nod and take another sip. “I know most people hate their dentist, but Doctor Greg is a really nice guy. He always remembers things about me and asks the next time I go in for a visit. Like, a few years ago, I was up for a promotion at work, and when I went for my six-month checkup, he asked if I got the job. Even when I get cavities, he never makes me feel bad about it.”

“You…” Ruairi blinks at me. “Like your dentist?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

“You’re a strange little creature, aren’t you?” He murmurs the words quietly, almost like he’s saying it more to himself than to me.

I chuckle and narrow my eyes curiously at him. “Strange little creature?” I echo. “You sound like an alien observing humanity.”

His mouth twitches into a reluctant smile. “I feel like it sometimes too.”

I take another sip of my drink and look around the room, taking in the broken hearts taped to the walls and the words “Love Sucks” plastered just about everywhere. My heart gives a little twinge for everyone here who’s been burned by love so many times that they’ve forgotten how to hope. I wish I had magic fairy dust I could sprinkle over each and every one of them to soften their souls again and open them up to the possibility that their one and only is still out there somewhere.

I notice a pair of guys standing a few yards away, seemingly oblivious to the party around them, with eyes only for each other. That little flower of hope inside me tilts towards them like they’re the sun. I look back at Ruairi and nod in their direction.

“What do you think their story is?” I ask.

He arches an eyebrow and follows my gaze. “Their story?”

“Yeah.” The taller of the two men brushes his hand against the other’s arm, casual and purposeful. Goosebumps rise all over my skin, and I lean in a little closer to Ruairi, not just because I want to make sure he can hear me over the music and the party, but because he’s hot and I want an excuse to touch him in a casual and purposeful way too if I get the chance. “It seems like they know each other a little. Like, maybe they went to high school together, but they were in different social groups, so they never talked but they always noticed each other. Neither of them were out at the time or confident enough to approach anyone even if they were, so they both just lay in their own beds at night, thinking of the other. After they graduated, they went away to different colleges where they got to know themselves, dated around, learned about the world, all that good collegiate stuff. But in the back of their minds, they both always wondered about that boy from high school they never had the guts to talk to. Then they showed up here tonight, and bam, they both just knew this was the chance they’d been waiting for all these years.”

The shorter man laughs at something and leans in towards the taller one. Next to me, Ruairi laughs quietly. The sound is deep and rich, drawing me in just a little closer until my shoulder bumps against his and I can smell the spiciness of his cologne.

“You remind me of my brother.”

“Ouch.” I grimace, then chuckle. “Should we call it now then?” I keep my tone light and teasing, but after the question leaves my tongue, I hold my breath for a few seconds, hoping he’ll say no. I don’t know what it is about him, but I think I might cry if the night ends here before I even have a chance to get to know him.

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing,” he answers, and I exhale quickly in relief.

“Okay, how about them?” I scan the party and land on a woman and a man dancing together near the stereo. She’s wearing red heels that put her a few inches taller than him, but if that bothers either of them, they’re not showing it. Their hands are all over each other, and they keep whispering things in each other’s ears while they dance.

“He’s going to take her home and fuck her, and then she’s going to spend the next two weeks waiting for him to call while he slinks home to his wife, who has no idea where he is tonight,” Ruairi says, sounding disgusted and a little bored, like he actually knows their story.

I scoff. “Wow, that’s cynical.”

His shoulders twitch. “It’s life.”

“But maybe it’s not,” I argue, taking another sip of my drink. “Maybe they’re both fresh out of rocky marriages, heartbroken, and sure they’ll never find love again. But tonight, they’re forming a connection that’s going to blossom into something beautiful.”

“You can spin anything, can’t you?” He sounds amused, his breath ghosting over my cheek as he talks. My lips tingle, and my insides heat and squirm, begging me to turn around and kiss him.

I turn my head to find him close enough that I could kiss him. All I would have to do is lean in another inch or two…

“It’s a skill,” I agree. “Try me.”

Ruairi smirks, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Alright, here it is… you just caught the love of your life in bed with someone else, and as you’re running out of your shared apartment to get away from the bastard, you get hit by a bus. You don’t die, but you’re in traction and are going to need that cheating asshole to feed you and care for you twenty-four hours a day for the next year.”

“Hmm.” I tap my chin and consider that ghoulish scenario. “Well, maybe there was a misunderstanding. Our relationship was off the rails, and while his cheating was very wrong, the next year of intense care will bring us closer than ever, and one day, when we look back at our lives together, we won’t even remember that one silly transgression.”

The humor slips off his face, and his emerald eyes turn a stormy color. Like, actual storm clouds fill his eyes like magic. Or maybe it’s just a trick of the light. I blink a few times to clear my vision, and his eyes look normal again.

“You deserve better than that. Fuck that guy, gaslighting you into thinking him fucking around was somehow partially your fault,” he growls.

My heart leaps, my cock swells, and a startled bark of laughter erupts from my throat.

“You know that wasn’t a real situation, right? You literally just made it up.”

He narrows his eyes and huffs. “Still,” he grumbles.

I don’t wait around to give my brain a chance to catch up with what’s happening. I erase those two inches between us and catch his lips in a kiss. They’re soft and warm, like coming inside after being out in a snowstorm. Electricity vibrates through me, and my heart races.

I break the kiss with a gasp after only a few seconds. My head is spinning like I’m drunk, and a giggle bubbles up from my belly. I look down at the glass in my hand. I’m pretty sure it’s not alcoholic, so maybe I’m just a little drunk on all the possibilities tonight. Maybe I’m getting a little drunk on this charmingly grumpy man who’s supposed to be my perfect match, if an app can really know such a thing.

Ruairi looks just as dazed as I am, his tongue darting out to lick his lips once, twice, three times.

“Thank you,” I say sweetly.

“For what?” A little furrow forms between his eyebrows, and I’m not sure what tempts me to act so familiar with him, but I reach out and smooth the crinkle with my thumb.

“Not wanting me to settle for that imaginary cheating bastard.”

RUAIRI

“Would you excuse me for a minute?”

Weston frowns momentarily at my abrupt attempt to get away. The half-second downturn of his lips is almost enough to keep me rooted to the spot just to avoid upsetting him, but that instinct alone sends me practically sprinting for the nearest bathroom.

My shoes click against the tile floor as I make a beeline for the sink, cranking on the cold water and cupping my hands under it. The kiss lasted all of five seconds and was perfectly chaste. It was the kind of kiss you wouldn’t hesitate to share in front of your grandmother—you know, assuming your grandmother isn’t an eternally young, sex-positive nymph who’s always inviting you to naked parties under the full moon.

Cringe.

My point is, that kiss was nothing. So why did it feel like grabbing a live wire with both hands? I splash water on my face, then drag my tongue over my lips again. I can still taste him. It’s diluted, but it’s there. Too sweet, too fucking addictive. I want to march back out there, grab that little ball of optimism and sunshine, and shove my tongue down his throat properly.

I shiver and reach blindly for a paper towel to dab my face dry. I straighten up and laugh when the face that stares back at me from the mirror isn’t my own. It’s too round, too cute, too cheerful.

“Spying on me, Cupes?” I wad up the paper towel and toss it towards the trash without looking, trusting a little bit of magic to get it into the bin.

My brother grins smugly, telling me everything I need to know about how long he’s been watching me on this date tonight.

“You like him.”

I huff out a laugh. My lips tingle in agreement with his assessment, but I jerk my head back and forth anyway.

“He’s more your type than mine.”

His smile gets even bigger. “Come on, Roo, just admit that you like him.”

“He’s…” I clear my throat, searching for the right word and trying to ignore the dizzying swarm of emotions swirling inside of me. “Different.”

“You like him.”

“Fuck off,” I mutter.

“Fine.” His smile falls into a more serious expression. “Just… give him a chance, okay?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I point out. “Now, give a guy some privacy, would you?”

I make a shooing motion, and his image ripples and then dissolves, leaving me staring at my own reflection. The door behind me swings open, and Weston steps in, looking around at the empty stalls and then at me.

“Were you talking to someone?” He cocks his head.

“My brother called.”

“Oh.” He flashes a grin. “I hope you thanked him for setting you up with such a fabulous date.” He bats his eyelashes playfully, and another laugh vibrates from my throat.

“Believe me, he’s got a big enough head as it is. He doesn’t need that kind of affirmation.”

Weston’s cheeks pinken, and his lips form a cute little O shape. “Does that mean you do think I’m fabulous?”

I snort. “It means I’m giving this a chance.”

CHAPTER THREE

WESTON

Okay, he wasn’t running away from me. That’s a good thing. There’s still hope that this gorgeous hunk of man could be mine.

The two of us return to the main event. Since I went to the bathroom, the lights have dimmed and the music is now something a lot sexier than the Frank Sinatra style it was. Ooh-kay, kicking up the heat.

Ruairi stops walking abruptly, tilting his head back and sniffing the air. As he does, his eyes narrow.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Do you need another drink?”

“Yes, please.” I follow him to the refreshment table, delighted when I see a tiered platter stacked high with yellow and white cakes. “Oh my gosh, are these lemon?” I snatch a mini cake off the platter. “Do you think they picked lemon for a reason? Like, is it an anti-Valentine thing? Is lemon the opposite of chocolate?” I muse and then laugh. “Oh, or maybe it’s the opposite of whatever Cupid’s favorite treat is. What do you think Cupid likes?”

I’m expecting another amusingly confused look from Ruairi, but instead he snorts.

“Gummy bears,” he answers, and I cock my head.

“You said that so authoritatively, like you actually know Cupid.” I pop the cake into my mouth, closing my eyes and moaning softly as the sweet, citrusy flavor melts on my tongue.

“Good?” Ruairi asks.

When I open my eyes, he has a smirk on his sexy face.

“So good. I’m such a sucker for lemon anything.” I snort a laugh. “Get it? Sucker? Lemon?”

He chuckles softly. “You’re an interesting one, Weston.”

“I’ve heard. Though most of the time the word they use isn’t interesting. It’s quirky, odd, weird.” I whisper the last word like it’s a slur, the same way all the assholes I went to school with always whispered it behind my back when they thought I wasn’t listening.

Ruairi frowns, so I put my hand on his chest.

“It’s okay, handsome. I’ve embraced it. I am who I am, and the right people will gravitate to me. I hope someday everyone who moves to their own beat can find that sense of peace.”

“Me too,” he says softly. I watch as he lifts a plate and fills it with all the different pastries on the table. “Let’s go sit.”

I follow behind him, totally checking out his ass. It’s literally perfect—full and supple-looking through his clothes. A cheeky thought tickles me. I wonder if this perfect specimen of male sexiness ever bottoms, because if he does, I’d climb that like it was Mount Everest.

“What’s that?” Ruairi asks, glancing over his shoulder. “Did you say something?”

“Nope. Just admiring the view.”

He snorts, stopping at an empty table and pulling out a chair for me. “Cheeky.”

“I can be, yes.” I sit, giggling when Ruairi sets the plate of dessert in front of me. He sits across from me, but the tables are small enough that our knees brush against each other.

I eat another dessert, glancing out at the room. The whole vibe has shifted since we went to the bathroom. People are dancing sensuously, bodies grinding to the sexy music. Others are in booths, their faces huddled close as they take turns touching cheeks or brushing locks of hair. It feels oddly intimate all of a sudden.

“Hey. Do you notice anything funny?”

“Funny?”

I nod, chewing another cake as I watch two men break into a sultry tango on the dance floor. “Like those two.” I point to the dancing men. “Or that couple,” I add, noticing the two women near the chocolate fountain totally making out. “It’s like there’s something in the air.”

Ruairi focuses on me. “You don’t feel anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just…” He glances around for a second. “You feel the same as you did before the bathroom break?”

“If you mean am I still enjoying this date and do I still want to climb across this table to see what lemon tastes like on your lips, then yes, I feel the same.”

A slow smile pulls at his lips. “Your honesty is refreshing.”

“Attractive?”

“Very.”

“Then why don’t we test the theory? Come over here, Ruairi. Get closer.”

He doesn’t hesitate, scooting his chair around the table so he’s right beside me. His eyes soften as he runs his thumb across my bottom lip before popping it into his mouth.

“Mmm, very sweet.”

“You are so sexy, Ruairi.”

“Roo. You can call me that.”

“Sweet too.” I lean in and flick my tongue across his lips. He opens his mouth, just catching the tip of my tongue with his. “I have a funny feeling about us, Roo. Maybe…” I brush my fingers across his cheek, smiling as his eyelids flutter. “I think we were meant to meet.”

His pretty green eyes seem to glimmer in the dim lights. “I think you’re right, Weston.”

“Wes.” If we’re at the ‘shortening our names’ stage, I definitely want to hear the familiarity of it on Roo’s lips.

Then he closes the distance, claiming my lips in a steamy kiss I can feel spreading through my whole body. My toes literally tingle as we explore each other’s mouths. It’s not like any kiss I’ve experienced before. Not to get too far ahead of myself here, but something about this man feels a whole lot like forever.

Roo slowly ends the kiss, dotting my nose and cheeks with soft pecks as he brushes our foreheads together. “Want to dance?”

“Yes.”

We wander out to the dance floor, pressing together despite the upbeat music. Others grind around us, but we just sway softly. Roo’s hands moving up and down my back conjure visions of true love in my eyes.

“Have you been in love before, Roo?”

“No, but to be fair I have a different view on love than most… people.”

“Yeah? Like what?” I card my fingers through the silky tresses teasing his neckline.

“What most people call love is nothing more than infatuation or lust.”

“Ah, so you’ve been in lust before?”

“Yes, but even that is rare. I see beyond someone’s superficial qualities.”

He twirls me around, and I giggle, thinking of my next question. I usually try to pace myself, but something about Roo is making that damn near impossible.

“What do you see in me, Roo? Because I’ll be honest. I see a lot in you.”

He seems to be studying me as his gaze roams across my face before settling on my eyes. The air around us cools as a breeze drifts by, which is all kinds of weird since we’re indoors, but okay. I’m obviously being swept off my feet by this man.

“Look up. What do you see?”

Tilting my head back, I smile at the twinkling dots of light covering the ceiling. “They look like stars.”

Roo twists me around so that my back is to his chest. He wraps his arms around me, holding me close and swaying us to the music as we both gaze at the lights above us.

“It’s like dancing under the night sky,” I whisper. “A lot of people forget to look up, you know? We all get so focused on the day-to-day we forget we’re surrounded by so much natural beauty. This big rock floating out in the middle of space is full of wonders.”

Roo twists me back around so quickly my breath catches. Before I can ask him what’s up, he presses our lips together again. This time the kiss is hungry, urgent, and as he pulls us impossibly closer, his thick erection presses against my thigh, sending shivers through me. Now that’s what I’m talking about.

My cock swells in response, and all the advice I gave myself before showing up tonight—pace yourself, don’t overshare, and definitely don’t go home with him—is officially out the window. Whatever Roo wants to do, I’m doing.

As the kiss ends, I cling to his shoulders, desperate to keep him close. He lifts his head, searching my eyes.

“Who are you?” he whispers. “What’s happening?”

I want to tell him that I think we’re falling in love, or at least I am, but I do have a tiny shred of self-preservation. I want to fall in love with him, and this time I know it’s not just my lovesick heart steering me towards the first available option.

Roo is different. Special. I feel it in my bones. He’s the one.

My chest feels too tight to keep all this elation inside, but I bite my tongue. Instead, I attack Roo’s mouth again, practically climbing him right on the dance floor. He returns my kiss with matching passion, walking us backward.

When I open my eyes, we’re back at our table. Roo drags his tongue across my bottom lip before moving back just enough to see my face. A slow smile spreads across his lips.

“You asked me what I saw in you,” Roo says.

“Yes.” For the love of Cupid, please tell me you feel what I do.

A pretty blush colors his cheeks as he brushes his fingers across my cheek. “Hope, Weston. I see hope.”

CHAPTER FOUR

RUAIRI

I swear, my brother just can’t help himself. As far as I can tell, he’s stuck to his promise not to use his arrow magic to besot Wes or myself, but I smelled his magic thick in the air as soon as we stepped out of the bathroom.

From the tangy, almost citrusy scent in the air, I would guess he opted to cast a little bit of truth dust over this party. Not that it necessarily makes people speak the truth so much as act it out. A few breaths of air tinged with this stuff and any human inhaling it can’t help but be the truest, most real version of themselves for a few hours. By the looks of things at this party, most of the guests’ truest selves are horny as fuck.

I look across the table at Weston, taking in the sweet blond curls framing his face and the pink blush painting both of his cheeks. His lips are still damp from my mouth, and the sight of them stirs a hot, deep, primal feeling in my gut. I want to drag him over the table and kiss him again. I want to sear my mark across his mouth so no unworthy heathen can ever come along and taste him again.

My cock aches in agreement, and I reach under the table to subtly adjust myself. Or maybe it’s not all that subtle, given the knowing arch of Wes’s eyebrow as he follows the movement.

“You really don’t feel anything off?” I know I already asked, but maybe it’s just taken a few extra minutes for Cupid’s magic to set in.

He shakes his head, then reaches over to dip his finger into the dollop of raspberry jam that tops one of the desserts left on my plate. He shoves the finger into his mouth, and my throat tightens. Gods, he’s tempting. The way his lips purse as they wrap around it, his cheeks hollowing, his eyes fixed on me with a mischievous glint has my cock jerking heavily between my legs.

“Why do you keep asking that?” he asks after slipping his finger free again.

I blink away the lust haze and clear my throat, considering how to answer the question.

“It just feels like there’s something in the air, doesn’t it? Maybe something that’s making people act…” I pause, trying to think of the right word as I glance around at the throngs of partygoers dancing and kissing and, to all appearances, falling in love with each other. For tonight, at least. “The way they wish they could all the time,” I finally finish.

Weston mirrors my action, looking around with a moony kind of smile on his face.

“You know, you’re right. It does feel like there’s something in the air here tonight. Maybe it’s a little bit of Cupid’s magic.”

I choke on a startled laugh. If only Weston knew how right he is. Maybe I should tell him. He might get a kick out of it. The idea floats through my mind so casually that it throws me for a loop. If I were standing, I might have tilted sideways; the feeling is so intense. I’ve never wanted to tell a human the truth about my nature before, and I’ve certainly never had the urge to out myself as Cupid’s brother.

I tilt my head and study him again. Maybe it’s his openness that’s lowering my guard. If my brother’s magic isn’t affecting him, it must be because he’s already his truest self.

My heart jolts just as eagerly as my dick did a moment ago. It’s been such a neglected organ I’m surprised there isn’t a rusty creak or a cloud of dust to accompany the sudden beat.

“Where did you grow up?” he asks conversationally, completely unaware of the fact that he’s awakening things inside me that are thrilling and terrifying all at once.

“In Ireland,” I answer. “In the countryside nestled between the Cooley peninsula and the mountains. My brothers and I were naked little hooligans, running all over, wreaking havoc left and right.” I smile fondly at the memory.

“Aw, you must have been such a cute bare-butt little kid,” he coos.

“Who said I was a little kid at the time?” I tease, quirking an eyebrow.

Weston throws his head back and laughs loudly. The sound reverberates through me and tempts me to kiss him again so I can taste it on his lips. And since there’s nothing stopping me, that’s exactly what I do. I lean over the table and catch his lips in a kiss mid-laugh, swallowing the sound and feeling the essence of his joy tingle on my tongue and slither through my veins like a shot of the strongest whiskey.

He shivers, and another wave of emotion crashes through me, dripping off his lips like warm, sticky syrup, sweet and drugging as he pours it into me without realizing he’s doing it. It’s lust, hot and needy, but it’s also so much more than that. It’s longing and hope. It’s honest, pure, and unselfish in a way that vibrates inside my bones and nearly makes me weep. Zeus, what is happening to me?

I wrench my mouth away from his and drag in a deep breath to steady myself.

“Are you okay?” His eyebrows pull together with concern, and the same open sweetness I tasted on his tongue is written all over his face.

I jerk my head in a shaky nod and suck in another breath. “Would you mind if we went outside to get some air?”

“Of course not,” he says without hesitation.

Without even thinking, I reach for his hand as soon as I stand up, threading my fingers between his and marveling at the way our palms fit neatly against each other. If I didn’t know better, I might start to suspect that my brother did use some kind of magic on me, but I can always feel it when he does. There’s a certain aftertaste magic always leaves in my mouth, and right now, all I can taste is Weston.

He shoots me sideways glances and little smiles as we make our way through the crowd towards the doors, like he can’t believe he’s managed to enthrall me the way he has. That makes two of us.

Tension I didn’t realize I was holding releases as soon as we step outside. There’s always something mildly unnerving about being indoors. I’ve wondered if humans feel it too—the stark disconnect with nature they’ve created with all the steel and concrete they encase themselves in to keep the wilderness out. Do they sit in their high-rises and dream about the dirt between their toes and the sound of birds, or are they so removed from it that they don’t even know they should crave it?

Weston draws in a deep breath beside me, tilting his head back to look up at the real stars overhead. My eyesight sharpens in the darkness, and I marvel at the way the moonlight bathes his fair skin, almost making him glow beneath it. He would look stunning lying bare in the grass under a full moon, freshly fucked and reeking of sex.

“Great idea to come outside. I was starting to feel a little claustrophobic in there,” he says, opening his eyes again and leading me down the path into the gardens that surround the estate.

The plants are all enjoying their quiet winter slumber for now, the crisp bite of the air a reminder that winter still has a few months to go, even if it has been unseasonably warm lately. There are benches lining the stone path, and it doesn’t take much to imagine what it looks like here in the spring and summer, lined with green bushes and colorful, blooming flowers in all directions.

“This must be stunning in the spring,” Weston says, echoing my thoughts. “Can’t you imagine sitting on one of these benches for hours, just soaking up the sunshine and the smell of flowers all afternoon?”

“Yes, I can,” I murmur, squeezing his hand.

“Don’t laugh, but I’ve had this dream since I was little that one day I would get a rustic cabin in the woods somewhere and fill the yard with wildflowers. And in the spring, I’d lie out there, surrounded by flowers, with little bumblebees landing on my nose from time to time and birds chirping from the trees around me.” He sighs, and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest.

“Is that really what you dream of? Not an overpriced apartment in the middle of the city?”

“Hell no.” He shudders. “What about you?”

“Oh, definitely the cabin,” I agree easily.

Weston beams, then nudges me towards the nearest bench. I start to lower myself, but he stops me.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasps, tugging me back in a hurry.

“What?” I whip my head around to see what has him so worried and spot a small spider right where I was about to plop my ass.

Wes lets go of my hand and bends down. “Hey, little guy. Do you mind if we steal your spot? You’d probably prefer something a little more comfortable than this hard, cold bench anyway,” he coos, placing a finger in front of the spider, then using another to gently coax it to climb on. “Go catch some mosquitos to chomp on.”

How many times have I watched a human carelessly squash a bug without a second thought? It boils my blood every time. I had started to think there was a fundamental flaw in their species that kept them from understanding that other life holds as much value as their own, but maybe I was wrong.

He jogs over to the bare bushes and lets the spider climb onto a twiggy branch, then returns to the bench like rescuing spiders and thawing out my cynical, closed-off heart is no big deal at all.

“I told you.” My brother’s voice echoes in my ears, as clear as if he were standing right beside me.

“Fine, you were right. Weston is special.” I send the thought back, doing my best to temper the feelings attached to it. Awe, hope, and maybe a little bit of humility. The sense of Cupid’s laughter that vibrates back lets me know that I didn’t hide any of those things from him as well as I wanted to.

“He’s more than special, Roo.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you already know.” I can just about taste the smugness in him.

Do I know what he means? My heart trips over a few fast beats as Wes tilts his head, studying me curiously.

“Would it be silly for me to suggest we dance together in the moonlight?” he asks, sounding the slightest bit shy for the first time.

“No, it’s not silly,” I assure him, noticing the roughness in my own voice as I hold my arms open to beckon him forward.

He steps close, then melts against me. My heart goes wild, and all the hairs on my body stand up at once. And my hair isn’t the only thing standing at attention. Weston smirks and grinds the hard shape of his erection against mine. I wrap an arm around his waist and hold his hand with the other. Weston lets out a melodic peal of laughter as I start to guide him in a waltz. He trips over my feet a few times before he stops trying to fight it and just follows my lead.

“Oh, shoot, we’re missing something,” I murmur, pulling my hand out of his for a split second to snap my fingers.

The air around us swells with the perfect string quartet waltz. Weston’s eyes go wide.

“How did you do that?”

I smirk and pull him even closer, dipping my head to bring my lips to his ear and whisper, “Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay.” He grins back at me. “That means there’s going to be a later, so I’m good with that.”

I gaze into his eyes, and my heart swells the same way the music did. Could Weston be my fated mate? Is that what Cupid meant?

That thought should send me screaming in the other direction, but instead it has me pulling him closer yet again.

“There will most definitely be a later.”

CHAPTER FIVE

WESTON

This night just went from really nice to magical. Gazing into Ruairi’s eyes feels like a dream. I swear I’m floating. Is this what people mean when they talk about getting swept off your feet?

Ruairi pulls me a little closer, so I lay my cheek on his shoulder. It’s impossibly romantic—just the two of us out here, somehow dancing to our own private music. I told myself I wasn’t going to put any high expectations on the evening and to just have fun and go with the flow, but how exactly am I supposed to not fall for a guy like Ruairi? He’s unique and interesting, a little mysterious even. I want to lie under the stars and talk until the sun comes up so I can learn everything there is to know about him. Not gonna lie though, I also want to get tangled in some sheets and learn what turns him on.

“What’s your favorite color?” I ask as he swings me around.

“Green. What’s yours?”

“Pink, but not baby pink. I love a good peachy pink.”

“Like your cheeks when you smile. Maybe that’s my favorite color now too.”

I pull back enough to see his face. “That’s a mighty swoony reply, Mr. Pessimist.”

He laughs softly, the sound vibrating through me. “I suppose your attitude is rubbing off on me.”

Smiling, I run my hands down his chest. “Ooh, kinky.”

Ruairi shakes his head, but he’s still grinning. “This is pretty forward of me, but what do you think about getting out of here and going back to my place?”

Jackpot! “I’d love to.”

Ruairi takes my hand in his and leads me through the building to the front. He snaps his fingers, and a shiny green sports car rolls up in front of us without a driver in sight. Maybe there was something funny in that drink. Either that or I’m already love-drunk on this beautiful man.

“What’s going on, Roo?”

He chuckles, opening the passenger-side door for me. “Just trust me.”

I nod as he buckles my seat belt for me. “Okay.” I’m not sure why I trust him, but I do. It’s a gut feeling, and my gut has never steered me wrong before.

After he joins me on the other side, he starts the car and we’re off to what I hope is a memorable night. Now comes the challenge I always have when I get to this point with a new man. Do I tell him now or wait until we’re in the heat of the moment? I have to assume we’re getting naked. God, I hope we’re getting naked.

“Uh, Roo?”

“Yes.”

“Do you live far?”

“Not at all. In fact, we’re here.”

I look forward through the windshield, totally confused. How the hell did we get from the club to a residential neighborhood so quickly? Roo pulls into the driveway of a sweet little house. It looks like a cottage that was plucked out of the woods and stands out among the more traditional homes on the street.

When I step out of the car, I’m stunned for a second. The air feels thick and crisp, drawing my eyes to the sky. Is it going to snow? Rain?

“Come on, Wes,” Roo says, offering his hand to me.

I take it, following him but still glancing around. “Your house is cute, but you strike me as more of a high-rise or loft kind of guy.”

Roo chuckles as he opens the door that leads from his garage inside the house. “I probably am, but my brother convinced me a house was a better investment choice.”

“Is he older?”

“Yeah.”

“You must be close. You talk about him a lot.”

Roo swings around to face me, cupping my cheek. “Enough talk about him. I want to focus on you. Do you want a drink?”

I shake my head. “No. I want to see your bedroom.”

A sexy smile spreads across his lips. “Right this way.”

He takes my hand again as we walk down a long hallway. When he opens his bedroom door and steps to the side, I enter, gasping at the sight. It’s a perfect blush pink, from the walls to the carpet to the bedding.

“Roo. This is gorgeous.”

He steps inside and looks as confused as I am amazed. “Uh, yeah. Surprise.”

I swing around the room in a circle as joy bubbles out of me. “I love it. You are full of surprises.”

“Mm, yes.” Roo stalks toward me, tugging his suit jacket off and tossing it to the floor. He closes in on me, gripping the back of my neck and drawing me in for another electrifying kiss.

I melt into him, gripping his shirt to keep my balance as our bodies press together. The hard ridge of his erection sends shivers through me, and I end up rubbing on him like a dog in heat.

“I’m on PrEP and recently tested. All negative,” I murmur against his lips. “You?”

“Negative.” His hot tongue slides against mine while I fumble over his shirt buttons. “You taste delicious.”

Once I’ve got his shirt open, I tear myself away from his mouth to kiss his neck and collarbone. His skin is unbelievably soft and unusually warm to the touch. There’s not a blemish anywhere. How is he even real? I drag my fingers through the soft ginger hair on his chest.

“God, you’re gorgeous, Roo.”

He grins, pushing me back just enough for my legs to hit the edge of his oversized bed. His fingers seem to glide over me, but somehow my shirt buttons come undone. He climbs on top of me, naked chest to naked chest, and claims my lips again.

In a blur of passion, our remaining clothes come off, and I’d swear I’ve been transported to another place and time completely. I’ve never been kissed so thoroughly in my life. But before we go any further, I have a little confession.

Gripping his shoulders, I manage to flip us over even though Roo is a much bigger man. He laughs in surprise but relaxes quickly as I straddle him.

“How do you feel about being topped?”

His eyes heat, and if I’m not mistaken, they seem to glimmer. “You really are perfect for me,” he whispers. “I prefer it.”

“No way. Are you just being swoony?”

Roo shakes his head, tickling my chest with his fingertips. “I’m very serious.” Reaching up, he hooks his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me down gently. “There’s nothing I love more than being filled by a gorgeous man.”

“Oooh, there’s those butterflies again.”

“Butterflies?”

I scrunch my nose. “Totally didn’t mean to say that out loud, but you make me feel all mushy inside. This is, like, the best date ever so far.”

“It’s not over yet.”

As our lips meet again, I grind my hips into his, our hard cocks bumping against each other. Every time he catches my foreskin with his, I shiver and another stream of precum leaks out of me. It’s rare I meet a man with a foreskin, and it makes me giddy as I slide down his body, eager for a taste and a peek.

When my eyes settle on him, I’m tempted to kick my legs with glee. Seriously, the man looks like he’s carved out of stone but with tufts of bright-red hair along his chest, belly, and surrounding his gorgeous cock.

I tuck myself between his legs, getting on my knees to indulge myself. As I drag my tongue up his shaft, his expression turns even steamier. I’d like to tease him and drag this out a little, but I have zero chill right now, so I open my mouth and let his impressive dick slide as far down my throat as I can get it.

“Oohhh Mighty Morrigan,” he whispers, burying his fingers in my hair.

Is he praying to the Celtic goddess during sex? Gotta say, I’m totally here for it. I do my best to unravel this man, sucking his length with long strokes while massaging his balls at the same time. He’s so into it, encouraging me with sweet whispers of my name and moans that vibrate through both of us.

The taste of his precum is unusually sweet, almost citrusy like my favorite lemon desserts. Roo is definitely not like any man I’ve ever met before.

When I drag my tongue around his head, dipping it into his foreskin, he arches his back and gently pushes my mouth away. “I don’t want to finish that way. Want you inside me.”

“Mm, I want that too, sexy. Got any lube?”

“Right here,” he pants, reaching for it on the bed. I don’t recall it being there before, but whatever.

“No condom is okay, right?”

“Yes,” Roo moans. “Please, Wes. I need to feel you.”

“Okay, handsome. Let me get you ready.”

“I’m ready.” His voice is clear as he puts his hand on my chest. “Trust me. I don’t need to prep.”

I raise an eyebrow but nod enthusiastically. “Cool.”

Roo lifts his head, reaching between us to stroke the lube over my cock as I pour it. “Perfect. You’re gonna feel amazing.”

“You’re gonna give me a big head.”

With my slick fingers, I feel around for his hole, finding it soft and yielding, just as he said. I line myself up and, with my eyes closed, sink into the softest, tightest, most addictive body.

“Holy fuck,” I moan. “Roo. You’re amazing.”

“Open your eyes.”

I do, gazing down at him. He smiles, nodding in encouragement for me to move. I start off slow, still adjusting to this incredible feeling. I’m afraid I’ll finish too quickly if I move any faster.

Managing to find a rhythm, the two of us move in sync, Roo taking every thrust of mine with ease. He’s no passive bottom though, wrapping his legs around my waist and lifting his hips to help me go even deeper.

How is it possible…? I squeeze my eyes shut for just a moment to center myself, but I open them again quickly. I don’t want to miss seeing his face.

Roo’s gaze is intense, his lips parted and breathing heavy as he takes each punishing thrust in stride.

“That’s it, Wes. You’re so deep.”

“Is it good?”

“Perfect. So, so perfect.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait for you to come. I want to taste you, Roo. I want to be covered in you.” Shock at my own words spreads through me, and I feel my cheeks heat. “I don’t know where this side of me is coming from.” I can’t read the expression on Roo’s face, but it’s serious. “I’m not freaking you out, am I?”

“No.” He grips the back of my neck, pulling me down to kiss me. Our tongues crash together, something deep inside of me lets loose, and I pound into him.

There’s no more talking, only feeling as our sweat-slick bodies grind together towards the perfect conclusion. The tension in my belly grows suddenly, but I’m a good top and insist my partner comes first. I pull up just enough that I can stroke his cock, but he slaps my hand away, gripping my chin for another bruising kiss.

“Yessss,” he murmurs. A loud moan leaves his lips, and I swallow it, indulging in the sweetness of his mouth.

His body tenses, and the first pulse of his cock happens, shooting warm, thick cum between us. Thank fuck. I couldn’t hold back much longer. With a few final thrusts, I join him in release, crashing into his body as a massive orgasm tears through me.

Roo’s body clenches around my cock, stroking me through it with the dexterity of a hand, leaving me wide-eyed and breathless. He holds my gaze, a satisfied smile on his lips and a glimmer in his eyes.

We slowly come back down to earth, our bodies cooling and sticky, but damn, that was amazing. I lie sprawled out on top of him, too boneless to move except to flinch when my soft cock slides out of him. Roo strokes my hair and tickles my back.

“That was perfect,” I whisper. “And that’s not an exaggeration. It was actually perfect. Like somehow we were made to do that with each other.”

Roo nods, but he seems to be deep in thought.

“Am I crazy, Roo? I mean, I know I’m a hopeless romantic, but this is a lot even for me. I don’t know how to describe how I feel.”

“You’re not crazy, Wes,” he says, shifting his gaze to me. “Not at all.”

“Then what’s going on? Everything I like, everything I’ve longed to find in a person… I barely know you, but I can’t deny this intense connection. Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels it.”

“You’re not.” Reaching up, he cups my cheek. “I’m more than a little stunned myself.”

I blow out a breath of relief. “Okay. Good.” The sudden smell of lemons and flowers fills the space. “What the…”

Roo gazes up at the ceiling, shaking his head with a smile on his face. “Okay, okay,” he whispers.

I look up too, but it’s just a ceiling. “Who are you talking to?”

Roo focuses on me. “Can you stay for a while? I have something very important to tell you. Life-changing, actually.”

“Life-changing?”

“I promise it’s not bad. It’s incredible.”

“Well, if it’s anything even close to what this whole night has been like, you bet I can stay. Cupid himself couldn’t drag me out of here.”

Roo raises an eyebrow as he tilts his head. “Well, lucky for us, he doesn’t want to.”

CHAPTER SIX

RUAIRI

I listen to the faint sound of the shower running while I dither about the kitchen, filling a serving tray with assorted fruits and cheeses, trying to focus on anything other than the gallop of my heart and the nerves twisting and turning deep in my gut.

Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. Revealing my true nature to Weston when we’ve known each other only a few hours feels borderline insane. There’s no way he’ll take me seriously. He might very well think I’m fit for the mental hospital and flee from here without a backward glance. I slice into the block of aged cheddar with more force than necessary, my harsh, rapid breaths so loud in my own ears that they nearly drown out the noise from the shower.

Perhaps I’ll wait. When he’s finished cleaning himself up, I’ll simply drag him back to bed where we can enjoy our snacks and a glass of champagne before he ravishes me again. And then, in a few weeks or months or, hell, even a few years wouldn’t go amiss… then I’ll tell Weston what I am.

The thought of waiting soothes one set of my nerves, but it makes something deeper and more primal inside of me snarl in protest. I can’t claim him until I’ve told him everything. Well, I could, it’s traditionally how we fae folk have done it, but it’s frowned upon these days. And I don’t want to trick my lovely, sweet mate into tying himself to me. I want him to do it freely and joyously.

From the direction of the bathroom, the sound of Weston’s voice carries over the white noise of the running water, melodic and bouncy, belting out some pop song I’m unfamiliar with. But if the lyrics about love and sunshine are anything to go by, I’d say he’s in a good mood. My heart leaps, and a smile twists on my lips.

He feels the bond between us too. He might not have a name for it the way I do, but he can sense it. I arrange the cheeses on the plate before turning back towards the refrigerator. I pull the door open, shivering at the blast of cold air, then chuckle under my breath. Right in the center of the middle shelf is a plate of lemon squares, stacked neatly on a serving tray, as well as a bottle of fancy champagne.

“Okay, Cupes, you can stop meddling now. I’ve got this under control. You were right; he’s my fated mate, and I will spend the next hundred years telling you so, even though it means you’ll never wipe that smug smile off your face.” I can feel my brother’s laughter dancing around me like a warm summer breeze before the weight of his presence vanishes. I grab the lemon bars and champagne, which I already had a bottle of, thanks so much, bro.

I swing the refrigerator door closed with my elbow and jump when I see Weston standing there, his hair still wet from the shower, wearing nothing but one of my T-shirts that comes down just far enough to cover all his glorious bits. His head is cocked curiously to one side, and he glances around the empty room the same way he did when he entered the bathroom at the party earlier.

“Who are you talking to? And what the heck is a fated mate?”

I smile nervously and hold up the plate of lemon squares. Weston’s eyes light up, and he’s momentarily distracted, grinning with delight as he plucks one of the treats off the plate and shoves it into his mouth. He groans around it, the sound making my cock twitch, eager for round two already. He chews slowly, then drags his tongue over his lips to catch the granules of sugar left behind.

“Roo?” he prompts again as soon as the distraction of the lemon square has passed.

I clear my throat and ignore the fluttering deep in my belly. “There’s a lot to explain, and it’s going to sound batshit insane to you, but I need you to hear me out.”

“You’re making me nervous,” he says with a tight laugh, reaching down to fidget with the hem of the T-shirt.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing bad. It’s just… well, I suspect it’s a bit strange to hear it for the first time.” A little vee of confusion forms between his eyebrows. I’m not sure my reassurance is making him feel any better. “Let’s take all this back to bed, and I’ll explain,” I suggest.

Weston nods and grabs the empty champagne glasses off the counter while I gather up the rest. He walks down the hallway to my bedroom a few paces ahead of me, the T-shirt riding up with each step to show off the swell of his smooth, perky ass cheeks. As anxious as I am about the conversation that’s coming, I do indulge in the view for a few glorious seconds.

The glasses rattle in his grip as he hops into bed, bouncing playfully on his knees for a moment with a giggle before settling down with his back propped against the headboard and his bare legs stretched out in front of him. I set the charcuterie down on the bed and climb in on the other side, mirroring his position. I manage to busy myself for another few seconds, uncorking the bottle of champagne and filling the glasses while Weston picks up a fig off the plate and nibbles on it, his eyes fixed on me the entire time.

“What if I told you that Cupid is real?” Starting with my brother feels like as good a place as any.

He giggles again. “Cupid? You mean like a real flying baby, shooting people with love arrows?”

I take a sip from my champagne glass and chuckle. “You have no idea how much he hates the baby imagery, but what kind of brother would I be if I didn’t use it to torture him now and then? You should hear the way he shrieks at me when I order a pack of diapers to be delivered to his house.”

Weston pauses with the fig halfway to his lips again, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and confusion, his head tilted again, like a dog trying to work out a complex command.

“He… You… What?”

“You might want to drink that. I warned you, this is going to sound crazy.” I nudge the glass in his hand, and he obediently tilts it to his lips, guzzling the contents down and then setting it aside on the bedside table. “Cupid is my brother. He’s not a fat little cherub, and there are no arrows. He’s a fairy, and so am I.”

“Um, yeah, Roo, I’m a fairy too, if that wasn’t obvious. Although, I’m not sure how PC that term is these days.”

“Uh, no, I mean we’re fae. Sidhe, sprite, pixie… There are a million different words for what we are and stories about us in every human culture on the planet. Simply put, we share the realm of the gods and enjoy a fraction of their powers. We move freely between this realm and our own, blending in among humans when we choose to. Most of us keep to ourselves for the most part; others choose to spend their time more human than fae, or vice versa. Then there are fairies like my brother, hopelessly romantic and chronically unable to keep himself from meddling. Making love matches has become his favorite hobby over the past few hundred years, and you humans giving him a whole holiday has gone to his head.”

Wes’s mouth opens and closes like a trout, his eyes wide. I can practically see the questions swirling around inside his brain as he processes everything I’m telling him.

“I… Okay, wow,” he breathes after a few silent seconds. “Honestly, Roo, I’m really gullible, so if this is a prank or a way to tease me, can you just tell me so I don’t embarrass myself?” The guilelessness of the request makes my heart swell and every protective instinct inside of me roar to life.

I reach for him and tug him closer to me, erasing the few inches of space between us on the bed. The trays rattle, but I ignore them and focus on my sweet mate. Cupping his jaw in one hand, I gaze into his eyes, hoping he can see how serious I am as he looks back into mine.

“I wouldn’t joke like that, sweetheart. I know it’s a lot to wrap your head around, but I’m being completely truthful. Here, I’ll show you.”

I snap my fingers, and the lights in the bedroom blink out. Weston makes a startled squeak, and I tighten my hold on him. Before he can blink again, the darkness fades away and our surroundings materialize again. But instead of my bedroom, we’re on the grass in a lush meadow. The sky overhead is more of a deep purple than the navy-blue humans see when they look up at night, and millions more stars are visible, twinkling overhead.

I was right. Weston looks utterly breathtaking bathed in the light of two moons. His breathing speeds up, and the confusion on his face morphs slowly into a stunned smile.

“Holy shit, are we in the fairy realm?” he gasps, drawing his knees up near his chest.

“We are, love,” I answer, brushing my nose against his and pecking his lips softly. “We can’t stay though.” I snap my fingers again, and we’re back in my bedroom, the comforter soft underneath us, the hum of the air conditioner replacing the chirp of nighttime insects.

He puts a hand over his mouth and laughs almost hysterically, gasping for breath. “Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.”

“Are you okay?” I frown. Maybe he’s going into shock. I don’t have the first clue how to do any of this. Perhaps I was meant to take it slower.

Weston bobs his head up and down rapidly and, after a few seconds, lowers his hand again.

“Um, okay, so you’re not human and your brother is Cupid. What… what does this all mean? Are the fairy legends real? Are you going to kidnap me into your realm or, uh, I don’t know, replace me with a changeling or something?”

“Kidnapping is frowned upon these days, thankfully. Not that it doesn’t still happen, but there are sanctions in place now to prevent it. As for what it means, that’s up to you.” I stroke my fingertips along the smooth curve of his jaw and nuzzle our noses together again. “You overheard me talking to Cupid in the kitchen, and you asked what a fated mate is…” My heart flails wildly. Telling him we’re fated is somehow even more terrifying than confessing that I’m not human. What if he doesn’t want me? Is that even possible?

“Tell me, Roo,” he whispers, his voice quivering the same way my insides are. Can he sense how big this moment is?

“The way humans have the concept of soulmates, we have something more tangible. A fated mate is someone the Fates picked out specifically for you. They wove the strands of our lives together on their loom before we ever met, possibly before either of us was even born. You were made for me, and I was made for you. We’re each other’s perfect match in every way.” Tears spring to my eyes, and a swell of emotion washes over me. “After five hundred years of life, I was starting to think maybe the Fates had forgotten about me. My pushy brother refused to give up though, no matter how much of a hard time I gave him about it.”

The smile on Weston’s face is so bright it’s nearly blinding. The serving tray rattles on the bed again as he flings himself onto my lap, straddling me and wrapping his arms around my neck.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,” he crows, planting wet kisses all over my face. “I knew there was an epic love waiting for me. I could feel it in my bones.”

I can’t tell if I’m laughing or sobbing—honestly, probably a little of both as I bury my face in the crook of his neck and let the joy of this moment wash over me. Weston wants to be mine. He already is mine.

“The Fates must have appreciated that at least one of us had faith,” I murmur, kissing my way along his collarbone and up his throat.

“Wait, did you say five hundred years?”

“Yes. We’re effectively immortal and very difficult to injure or kill. Iron through the heart will do it, and certain poisons that can only be made using ingredients from our realm, but that’s about it,” I explain.

Alarm flits over his face. “Does that mean I’m going to die and you’ll have to keep living without me? You won’t get another fated mate?” I can see tears welling up in his eyes. “That seems so unfair to you. I get to have you for my whole lifetime, and you only get me for a tiny portion of yours?” He sniffles, and my heart does a somersault.

I drag my thumbs along his cheeks to gather the falling tears, kissing each one. “Shh, my love. Don’t cry. I won’t be alone because once we bond, our souls and bodies will be properly tied together. You’ll live as long as I do and be able to come and go from the fae realm as you please.”

“Really? How do we bond? Can we do it now?” He bounces on my lap, rousing my cock from its slumber again.

“It’s simple, really. I just need to enchant an offering, and you have to ingest it, and then we’re bound for eternity. But there’s no rush, Wes.” I kiss the salty tear streaks on his cheeks again. “We can court and get to know each other as long as you’d like before we bond.”

He snorts. “Court? Are we in Victorian England?”

“Smart-ass,” I tease. “I just mean that you don’t have to jump in with both feet tonight when we’ve only just met each other.”

Wes shakes his head. “But we haven’t only just met each other. Not really. Maybe our bodies have, but you said the Fates twined us together ages ago, which means our souls have known each other since the beginning.”

My heart beats in my throat, and I nod. “You’re right. Our souls know each other very well.” In fact, I can feel mine reaching for his even now.

“Enchant something, Roo. Please? I don’t want to wait to make it official. I love you already, and if this whole thing is fate approved, then I don’t see any reason to wait. Do you?”

“No, love, I don’t.” Can this be real? Last night I was sure this date would be yet another disaster, and now I have my fated mate, my love, my heart right here in my lap, begging to be mine forever. “Grab me something off that plate.” I jerk my chin towards the tray behind him, and Wes twists around without budging off my lap.

He plucks another fig off the tray. How appropriate.

“If I eat six of these, do I only get to stay in your world six months of the year?” he jokes with a grin.

“Those were pomegranates,” I correct him. “And, luckily, just one will do,” I assure him. “Sephy will be tickled you thought of her though.”

“Sephy?” he echoes with an awed sort of delight. “Persephone is real, and you call her Sephy? Can I meet her? What else is real? Is it just the gods and goddesses stuff, or are there mermaids too? What about werewolves? Vampires? Holy shit, Roo, are there dragons?”

“Yes to all of the above,” I answer with an amused rumble in my throat. “I’ll warn you though that the wolves have a bit of an odor issue, vampires tend to get obnoxiously into Gothic cosplay, and the dragons, well… let’s just say they’re thoroughly convinced that dragon shit is made of gold.”

“This is fucking amazing,” he squeals.

All the worry inside of my chest unknots and smooths out. Of course Weston is open to all of this. Fate wouldn’t have chosen him otherwise. I whisper words in my mother tongue and then blow gently on the fig. A warm rush of magic surges through me, and the way Wes shivers, I think he can feel it too.

I hold the fruit out to him, and he takes it.

“So, all I have to do is eat this, and then we’re bonded for eternity?” He looks at the fig and then at me.

“Just one bite and you’re mine,” I answer.

“How many bites to make you mine too?” Wes teases.

“Oh, silly man, I already am,” I assure him.

He brings the fruit to his mouth, and I hold my breath without meaning to, unable to do anything but stare at the way his lips wrap around the offering. It’s sensual and mesmerizing, and it almost feels like the entire universe around me is holding its breath too. He moans quietly, his cock swelling against my bare belly as he chews the bite with purpose, taking his time, like this is the most important thing he’s ever done.

My cock thickens too, hot and aching against his. I drag my fingers through his hair and memorize every inch of his face in the span of a few seconds that feel like they last eons. Wes’s throat bobs as he swallows the fig down, and something deep inside of me clicks into place, like a lock turning and a door swinging open, a flood of feelings rushing through me like a tidal wave. His cheeks flush, and his breath catches too.

“Roo, I can feel you,” he whispers, putting a hand over the center of his chest and rocking his hips, grinding our cocks together. “Not just here…” He paws at my chest and squirms in my lap again, a slick of precum dribbling from his slit. “Not just physically, but inside me, all around me, like you’re part of me.”

“I am,” I rasp, reaching between us to take both of our cocks in my hand. “And you’re part of me now too, Weston. My love. My mate.”

He pants and shudders, the two of us rocking in tandem, fucking the channel of my hand as our mouths fall into rhythm against each other again. Lips, tongues, teeth. Licking and nibbling at each other’s mouths, trading muffled moans and needy cries.

Weston wrenches his lips away from mine and throws his head back to shout my name to the heavens. His cock pulses against mine, and hot spurts of his release coat me, slicking the way as I jerk us harder and faster, following him over the edge into the heady abyss of pleasure.

He collapses against me, both our cocks still twitching and lazily drooling cum, our chests heaving as we try to catch our breath.

“Did we just get fairy-married?” he asks with a laugh.

“Yes, we just got fairy-married,” I answer, echoing his amusement.

He squeals excitedly in spite of his exhaustion. “This is the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

“It is indeed,” I agree. “And it’s just the start.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

MIKA NIX

Mika Nix is the combined paranormal alter egos of USA Today Bestselling authors of MM romance, K.M. Neuhold and Mia Monroe.

As Mika, this dynamic duo plans to light fire to your kindle with their upcoming series, Drake Security, featuring swoony brooding dragon shifter brothers as they discover their fated mates. It’s a guaranteed thrill ride.

In their spare time, they…oh let’s be honest. They’re always writing. Follow along to stay connected to their shenanigans.

Connect with Mika

Facebook reader group: Mika Nix’s Wicked Hot Mates

More from K.M. Neuhold

Website: authorkmneuhold.com

More from Mia Monroe

Website: miamonroeauthor.com

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STARRY NIGHT

PANDORA PINE

CHAPTER ONE

ORION

It all started with an email. No, not the kind where a Nigerian prince wanted to give me all his money. I was too smart to fall for that. Again. This email was from some dating website called Heart2Heart. I almost deleted it four or five times. I’m still not sure what kept me from consigning the message to the trash. Maybe I was bored. Or wanted to believe the notion I had a romantic destiny.

Sighing heavily, I tapped on the message and read it for the tenth time.

Ready to meet the love of your life this Valentine’s Day? Put your trust in Cupid!

You know that here at Heart2Heart we’ve helped thousands of lonely hearts find their perfect match, mate, and bond over the last five years.

Now, your romantic future is about to get even brighter thanks to the cheeky cherub themself, Cupid. Known worldwide as the number one matchmaker, we’re thrilled to partner with them for this special Valentine’s Day event in which they’ll use H2H’s enormous database to find the magical match that’s just right for you.

Ready to embrace your romantic destiny? Put your trust in Cupid and sign up today.

Until the email arrived, I’d never heard of Heart2Heart. To be honest, I hadn’t thought about my romantic destiny in, oh, a millennium or so.

I know what you’re thinking. Okay, Boomer! You’re only as old as you feel. Let me tell you, I felt each and every one of my 5,031 years. Damn, it made me feel old when I said it out loud.

It’s probably a good idea if I introduce myself before I go any further.

My name is Orion Starborn. No, Starborn isn’t my actual last name; I created it for legal purposes. Turns out you can’t get a social security card, driver’s license, or birth certificate with only one name here in the good old US of A. Makes me wonder if the government made exceptions for Cher, Madonna, and Prince.

I was born into the empire of ancient Greece in what is now Messina, Sicily, in the year 3008 BC, to Euryale and Poseidon. If you’ve read Greek mythology or watched those Percy Jackson movies, you’ve heard of my father. You know, the god of the sea. Euryale was the sister of Medusa. Yes, that Medusa, the one with the slithery hairdo, who could turn men to stone with one glance. Thanks to circumstances beyond my control, I’m an immortal demigod.

No, really. I am. Which makes me the ultimate nepo baby.

Anyway, back to the email I couldn’t seem to delete. I hated Valentine’s Day with a literal burning passion. If I could incinerate every Hallmark store, florist, and candy shop within a one-mile radius, I would have. I mean, I could, but I wouldn’t.

Maybe.

I’m betting you see me as some brokenhearted loser whose only goal in life was to get through the season of love with my heart intact in its ice-encased coffin. A metaphorical coffin, not an actual coffin.

I’m magically gifted, but I’m definitely not able to remove my heart at will. That’s the stuff of legend and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Let’s face it, Indy is legendary. Have you seen him in those tight pants and leather jacket, cracking his whip? Mmmmm!

Where was I? Oh yeah, my literal burning hatred of Valentine’s Day and my eternally broken heart.

It all started a thousand years before the birth of Christ. I really am that old. Ask me sometime about my skin regimen. I was crazy in love with Apollo, god of everything under the sun. His eyes were the deepest brown, his dark curls begged to be stroked, while his olive skin glistened like the Mediterranean on a summer’s day.

Sounds promising, right? Wrong. No matter how I tried to capture Apollo’s attention, he never so much as cast a glance my way. But I didn’t let his attitude stop me. I had an ace in the hole, so to speak, in the form of my best friend, Cupid.

Yes, that Cupid. The very same cherub who was working with Heart2Heart, claiming he could find everyone’s perfect match. The very same son-of-a-goddess who promised me my heart’s desire but got me killed instead.

But Orion, I thought you said you were an immortal demigod?

Please hold all questions until the end…

Cupid told me the best way to get Apollo’s attention was to ignore him. Tale as old as time. So I listened to my friend and did just that. Instead of mooning over Apollo, I went hunting with his sister, Artemis, who, truth be told, was the only person, goddess or mortal, whose talent with a bow rivaled my own.

We spent months on the hunt together. Killing wild boar, deer, hares, you name it. I threw lavish feasts in her honor. People would come from miles around to fete the goddess and to pray their own hunts would be successful. Artemis and I were having the time of our lives until Apollo got wind of what we’d been up to.

I’d finally caught Apollo’s eye. He showed up at one of the feasts, practically vibrating with rage. Not only was he angry I appeared to be courting his sister, but also that I’d stopped lavishing him with all of my attention, praise, and sacrifices. Gods, am I right? Can’t live with them. Can’t live…at all, actually.

I did my best to explain to Apollo he was the one I was trying to impress. Whose eye I was trying to catch. He was my one true love. The man of my dreams. My sun and my moon.

Apollo was having none of my excuses and flowery words. He struck me blind, telling me I would never again be able to look upon his fair sister’s face. I begged and pleaded for him to return my sight so I could hunt again. With my sight restored, I would become a hunter of even greater renown, rivaling even his sister’s talents, all in Apollo’s name. I promised to build temples to revere him and to sacrifice a thousand bulls in his honor, if only he would heal me.

Not only were my pleas all in vain, but vowing I would eclipse his sister with my bow and arrow was the absolute worst thing I could have said in that moment. Apollo created a giant scorpion from the sand beneath his feet. He promised to spare my life if I could defeat the beast. Without my eyes, my sword and bow were useless. When my arms tired and I could no longer stand, the creature came for me, stinging me relentlessly. I felt its poison course through my veins, burning like a thousand suns. I spent my last breath begging Apollo for mercy, which he did not grant.

Later, I found myself on Charon’s ferry, handing over a coin for my passage to the Underworld, where I was doomed to spend an eternity suffering, alone and blind, mourning my own misfortune and the loss of Apollo.

Oh, stop your sniffling. Spoiler alert: I didn’t spend an eternity in Hades. Artemis, grief-stricken over my death, begged Zeus to place me among the stars. Which he did, but he also placed the scorpion alongside me as a warning that no mortal, demigod or not, could ever eclipse a god of Olympus.

Zeus always was a dick.

As it turned out, Artemis wasn’t the only goddess who was in love with me. Aphrodite, unbeknownst to Apollo, sent my corpse to Hephaestus, the blacksmith god, who was able to revive my mortal body and restore my sight on the condition I leave Greece for all eternity. At the goddess of love’s command, I was to be made immortal until such time as I was able to find true love and have it returned to me.

It would be a cold day in Hades before I allowed my heart to overrule my head again. I accepted the arrangement and escaped to Carthage, across the Mediterranean Sea. I was whole again, with one small exception. Instead of the cerulean eyes praised by poets, I was left with one eye green as the forest and one eye golden as summer wheat.

If I was being honest, immortality wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I’d spent the last several millennia drifting from place to place. I was a vagabond. A man without a country, never once finding a place that remotely felt like home. All the while keeping my heart safe in its ice-encased coffin.

Until today.

I couldn’t help thinking Cupid owed me one. I never thought he’d amount to much, but of all the Olympian gods, he was the only one who remained relevant in this modern age. Zeus’s magnificent temples lay in ruins. As did Apollo’s Oracle of Delphi. No one prayed to Athena for her wisdom or to Demeter for a bountiful harvest. Cupid was all that remained of the bygone, classical era.

Clicking the link in the Heart2Heart email, I started to create a profile. Like the ad said, my romantic destiny was waiting.

CHAPTER TWO

KADEN

Man, did I love the smell of old books. Yeah, I was one of those old-schoolers who thought e-readers were the first sign of the apocalypse. Kindle was a dirty word in my vernacular. Apps were chicken wings or mozzarella sticks, not something you downloaded on a phone to read a book with. Who the hell wanted to read tiny words on a tiny screen? Although, I had to admit, sooner rather than later, I was going to need reading glasses to see the tiny words in my paper books. Whose idea of a sick joke was that?

My life had a 1980s vibe. I listened to Madonna on my Walkman. I read actual books made from paper. I drove a Pontiac Trans Am. The car was the spitting image of the one Burt Reynolds drove in Smokey and the Bandit. I even had a rotary dial phone with an extra-long tangled cord mounted to the wall in my kitchen. Don’t hate me because I was too cool for school.

My entire life revolved around books. As the head librarian in the Myths, Legends, and Folklore department of the Boston Public Library, I spent my days helping people research vampires, zombies, and werewolves. Oh, my!

Seriously though, books were in my blood, even though this world seemed content to bury them in the past. I loved my job at the BPL. It came with certain perks, like working in a place with John Singer Sargent murals and stunning Renaissance-style architecture. My wing of the library was the largest depository of myths and legend texts in the world. The books ranged from ancient Mesopotamia, the Holy Roman Empire, ancient Greece, and Turkey to more modern classics like Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

My favorite perk was a bit more personal. You see, not only were these ancient tomes old friends, but they could be the key to my salvation.

Can I tell you a secret? Promise not to tell? Pinkie swear?

I’m a werewolf. My pack’s origins trace back to rural France in the twelfth century. Round about 1776, when the American colonists were preparing to declare their independence from jolly old England, my ancestors escaped to Canada, along with other undesirables. My family later immigrated to the United States in the 1920s, finally ending up in Malden, Massachusetts, a suburb of Boston.

Yeah, you heard me right. I’m a French-Canadian werewolf. Mon Dieu! I’m Kaden Devereaux, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.

Let me start by debunking a few common werewolf myths. A bite from a werewolf will not turn you into one of us. It will require a trip to the emergency room for antibiotics and possibly treatment for rabies. Silver bullets will kill us, but, spoiler alert, they’ll kill anything if your aim is true. Lastly, the light of a full moon does not make me shift into my lupine form.

Le sigh. One guy shifts during a full moon, eats half a village, and BAM! A new myth is born. No one liked great-great-grandfather François much anyway, or so I’m told.

But back to the ancient books in the collection being my salvation. No, I’m not being dramatic. I wish I was. Lycanthropy is a genetic trait like dark hair or male-pattern baldness. The Devereaux family had been producing virile werewolves for centuries. However, in my case, my genes or something went a bit haywire somewhere along the way.

I’m a mutant. A freak. Due to this supposed genetic flaw, I’d been shunned. I was no longer a member of the Devereaux pack. I had no contact with my parents, siblings, or the rest of my family. That’s where my precious books came into play. I’d been studying werewolf myths and legends from the moment my mutation was revealed fifteen years ago when I shifted for the first time, in hopes of finding a cure and ultimately being welcomed back into my family’s loving arms.

What was this terrible trait that got me kicked out of my pack and ostracized by the alpha? I was allergic to animal dander, meaning I was allergic to myself when I shifted into wolf form. It didn’t sound like a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, but life with swollen, itchy eyes, asthmatic wheezing, a drippy nose, and constant sneezes was a nightmare. So much so I was forbidden from siring children of my own for fear the mutation would be passed down to future generations.

Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play…

I don’t mean to be a Donnie Downer, but welcome to my life. Or at least what passed for life these days.

All of my free time was spent with my nose in old books, hoping I could find a cure for my condition. I’d tried over-the-counter antihistamines, allergy shots, and biologics to suppress my immune system, but nothing worked for long, and Benadryl made me sleepy. My next step was looking into magic spells, curses, hexes. My condition might not be a function of biology at all but rather the result of a terrible curse. I mean, I’d investigated science, biology, genetic engineering, and the like. What did I have to lose?

There was only one person who knew my full truth. My best friend, Jon Clifton. We’d been friends since middle school when he saved me from bullies who were in the process of stealing my lunch money. No one fucked with Big Jon, which was as true now as it was at John Quincy Adams Middle School back in the day.

His motto when it came to my parents had always been “Fuck them and the werewolf they rode in on.” He had a point. And the best parents on the planet. When Jon came out to them in the eighth grade, there had been hugs and tons of support. They marched in Pride parades alongside him. His parents fostered gay youth. They were just as supportive of me when I came out as a gay, allergic werewolf.

My parents kicked me out of the house when they discovered my mutation during my first shift when I was fifteen. It wasn’t bad enough being a teenage werewolf, dealing with zits and algebra, but to be homeless on top of everything was a blow I still hadn’t recovered from. Thankfully, Jon’s parents took me in as one of their own. His mother gave me ear scritches when I shifted and always had tissues and my inhaler handy when I changed back. They even helped put me through college.

Jon got married last year. It was a gorgeous Star Wars–themed ceremony held at a swanky hotel in downtown Boston. Paul was one hell of a guy, and he loved Jon to Tatooine and back. They’d met courtesy of the dating app Heart2Heart. With a drunken arm slung around me during Madonna’s “Crazy for You,” he’d told me my one true love was out there waiting for me to find him. All I needed to do was take a chance on love like he’d done.

I sure as hell couldn’t argue with his results. After a year of marriage, they owned a house on the water in Salem and had adopted a pair of rescue greyhounds named George and Ringo, with plans for a human child to someday join their fur babies. Jon had the world on a string.

All I had were my moldering books and a free membership to Heart2Heart, courtesy of Big Jon. I’d spent the last few months staring at the invitation and trying to decide if I should join or not. Finally, last week, after one too many piña coladas, I’d made a profile. I was sick to my stomach over the whole thing when I saw “Cupid” would be the one making matches for Valentine’s Day.

The only thing worse than being alone on Valentine’s Day was the possibility of being set up by an equally lonely dude costumed in a wig and diaper. It was only Jon’s success with meeting his husband that made me press the Join Now button.

If nothing else, it would be a funny story to tell at the old-age home one day, right?

Anyway, I clicked the button three days ago. It had been crickets ever since. I didn’t even get a welcome email offering me upgrades to my standard membership. I suppose with the holiday only a few days away, the website must have been slammed with lonely people like me looking for their happily ever after.

Some of them would find true love. But as for me, I had a feeling I would be spending yet another Valentine’s Day alone with sappy movies and a box of choc⁠—

The pinging of my phone broke me out of my pity party for one. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw a single text message had been sent. After reading the message several times, I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or cry.

Hey Kaden, it’s Cupid. Have I got a date for you! Tomorrow 4 p.m. BPL. Are you ready to fall head over paws in love?

Paws? Nowhere in my profile had I mentioned I was a werewolf. How the hell had this Cupid wannabe found out my secret? Making matters worse was that my date was supposed to meet me here at the library. How humiliating.

All I could do now was cross my fingers and hope this blind date didn’t turn into a complete catastrophe. I mean, what could possibly go right?

CHAPTER THREE

ORION

What the hell kind of name was Kaden? I rolled my eyes and scanned the email from Cupid for what had to be the twentieth time since it arrived last night. It seemed to be a form letter of sorts, introducing me to Kaden Devereaux and giving some vague details about him. Black hair, green eyes, five foot eight, librarian. To my chagrin, there was no photograph.

Christ, it took Cupid to set me up with a short, emerald-eyed dork? I could have found a man fitting his description by myself in the coffee shop near my office.

Sighing, I checked my look in the mirror. My dark hair was perfectly styled. I wore an expensive pair of dark-wash jeans and a polo shirt that was a size too small to accentuate my broad shoulders. On my feet were a pair of black velvet Jimmy Choos. I’d come a long way from togas and sandals.

As I hopped off the Green Line at the Boylston Street T stop, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was about to meet the man of my dreams. He’d have to be the hottest guy on the planet to even be in the same league as Apollo. And let’s face it, the chances of that were slim to none.

Even still, I promised myself I would go through with this date no matter what. I followed the signs to the Myths, Legends, and Folklore section of the library, already a little impressed with my date. Hell, I was a living legend. I was sure he knew all about me and what happened back in Greece, which, in my case, might not be the best thing. It wasn’t as if I was a hero like Hercules, the over-muscled dick. Let’s just say with Zeus being his father, the golden apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

My date was nowhere to be found at the circulation desk. What in Hades was going on? He must have gotten the same email I did—why wasn’t he waiting for me with bated breath? Scowling, I headed back through the stacks, keeping my eyes open for a short, green-eyed librarian.

I turned a corner and smacked into someone who bounced off my chest. I barely managed to wrap my arms around him before he landed on the floor. “Are you okay?” I asked, coming face-to-face with the most intense green eyes I’d ever seen in my life.

“Holy shit,” the man muttered, taking a step back. His eyes traveled up and down my torso, his eyes widening with alarm and, dare I say it, desire.

As he appraised me, I did the same. The man was short, a few inches below six feet. He was dressed in jeans and a plaid dress shirt with one of those square ties patterned with centaurs. He wore a name tag on the left pocket of the shirt. Fuck me, it read: Kaden.

“I’m so sorry,” Kaden mumbled. “I wasn’t watching where I was going and…” His eyes widened further as he stared into mine. “Orion?” he gasped.

“The one and only,” I said with a cheeky grin. I held out a hand to greet him, expecting to feel a surge of electricity and animalistic lust, but all I got for my trouble was a slightly damp and weak handshake.

“I can’t believe you’re real. I got the email from the dating website and thought it was a joke, to be honest.” He ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair. “I’m Kaden.”

“Orion,” I returned lamely. “Do you have any idea where we’re going tonight? My email didn’t say.”

“We’re going to a cooking class at the Four Seasons Hotel. It’s a ten-minute walk from here. Let me grab my coat, and we’ll be ready to roll.” Kaden’s grin was infectious. It lit up his entire face, making his green eyes glitter under the fluorescent lights. He stepped past me, heading back in the direction I’d just come from.

“Wait. What? A cooking class?” What the hell was Cupid thinking? When I got my hands on that diapered prick, I was going to give him a piece of my mind and possibly a left hook to his perfect nose.

“I know! Sounds like fun, right?” Kaden sounded serious, not sarcastic at all.

Was he actually looking forward to this night of torture? “Do you cook?” I asked, trying to sound casual. I most definitely did not cook. You’d think after five-plus millennia on this planet, I would have picked up the skill, but you’d be wrong.

“I love to cook!” Kaden grinned, approaching the circulation desk. “I’ll be right back.” He walked behind the desk and into an office. When he returned moments later, he was wearing a dark winter jacket. “Ready?”

I nodded, my brain still stuck on the fact this date was turning into an epic disaster. The only thing that could make this night worse was if a thunderbolt-wielding Zeus showed up.

“Do you cook?” Kaden asked as we made our way down the main staircase leading to the front door.

“Uh, no. Not really, unless you count fixing a bowl of Lucky Charms as cooking.” What the fuck was wrong with me? I wasn’t exactly putting my best foot forward.

“You don’t look like the kind of man who misses a meal.” Kaden’s eyes were glued to my shoulders and arms, which were pretty impressive if I did say so myself.

“I eat a lot of takeout. Salads. Chicken kabobs. Steak.” I practically growled the last word. I’d been too nervous to eat lunch, which I was paying for now. “What about you? Don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian. It looks like one strong breeze would blow you away.” I held the main door open for Kaden, who slipped past me and immediately shivered.

“No, I’m not a vegetarian. I’m a carnivore, born and bred. I’m just cold all the time. I don’t have my winter coat.” Kaden’s eyes widened at his own words, as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

It was on the tip of my tongue to point out my date was, in fact, wearing a winter jacket. Maybe he was one of those guys who needed an L.L. Bean jacket rated for below-zero temperatures. I ran hot most of the time, so I was fine in a light parka. As I studied Kaden, a line of sweat trickled down my spine. “Do you have any idea why Cupid matched us together?” Maybe Kaden had more insight into our pairing.

“I have no idea.” Kaden grinned. “No, that’s not exactly true. You’re my type.” His smile turned into embarrassed shock. “I mean, you’re my physical type. Tall. Dark. Broad shoulders. I don’t know if you’re my one true love or if we’re gonna go back to your place and…” Kaden sputtered and stopped, obviously figuring silence would be better than more rambling.

I felt my blood heat at the thought of taking my date home and ravishing him. I was about to suggest skipping the cooking class and heading back to the condo, but something stopped me before I could open my mouth. Cupid handpicked Kaden for a reason. While I was sure the sex would be next-level—Kaden looked like the kind of man who let his freak flag fly in the bedroom—I couldn’t help thinking there was more to this match than just sexual compatibility. “You’re my type too.” Fuck me gently with Zeus’s thunderbolt. It was too late to take my words back, but looking at the adoring smile on Kaden’s face, I found I didn’t want to.

Kaden’s eyes lit up with obvious joy. “Here we are.” He pointed to the soaring brick-and-glass facade of the hotel. “Let’s get cooking!”

What kind of Pandora’s box had I opened? Here I was on a blind date with a man I never would have chosen for myself, about to go to a cooking class, something I would never willingly do. It was a world gone mad. I supposed the only thing I could do at this point was to see where the night took us. I’d only been acquainted with Kaden for twenty minutes. It wasn’t possible to know from this brief conversation if we were meant to be together forever or just for one night.

Time would tell.

CHAPTER FOUR

KADEN

You might not have noticed, but I was kind of an awkward guy. Big Jon called me adorkable. Which I supposed I was. I loved science fiction shows, anime, and going to comic cons dressed as Luke Skywalker. There was absolutely nothing about me a man like Orion could possibly find attractive. Was there?

He hadn’t seemed particularly keen on coming to this cooking class, but I had to admit, once he’d gotten a closer look at the tools of the trade, he seemed to perk up.

“Okay, let’s get started,” a man in a white chef’s coat said from the front of the room. “I’m Karl Timmons, head chef here at the Four Seasons, and it’s my pleasure to welcome you all to class. We’re going to prepare two dishes tonight, sure to whet your date’s appetite. There are aprons at your stations. Please put them on.”

I practically vibrated with excitement. In my Heart2Heart profile, I’d mentioned being interested in learning to cook Italian food. The powers that be must have taken note of my interest. Grabbing the apron, I slipped the neckpiece over my head and quickly tied the straps around my back. “Piece of ca—” My comment died on my tongue as I caught a look at Orion, who was having trouble putting on the apron. He held it upside down and was trying to put his right foot through the neck loop, all the while looking deeply confused.

“Here,” I said, taking the apron from him. “Let me help you.” I moved closer to Orion, reaching up on my tiptoes to put it around his neck. My chest brushed against his. Electricity burned through my body, making me feel like my blood had turned to lava. It wouldn’t be long before my cock joined the party. The last thing I wanted was for Orion to notice. “Turn around.” I spun him around and tied the strings around the center of his back. His heavily muscled, broad back. I wanted to lick him until I ran out of saliva. Clearing my throat, I pulled back from him. “All set.”

Orion grinned when he turned to see my deep blush. Christ, I felt like a teenager with my cheeks flaming and my dick half-hard in my pants.

“We’ll start with spaghetti and meatballs. You’ll find the written recipe at your stations. The first step is to make the meatballs, then move on to the sauce. I’ll be around to help out if you get stuck,” Chef Timmons said. “Make sure to handle the meatballs as little as possible. There’s nothing worse than gummy, overworked balls.”

“Amen, brother!” Orion called out. He turned to me and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

A giggle bubbled up. I slapped a hand over my face, which was beet red again. I was beginning to think a constant state of blush was par for the course with Orion. “I’ll get started on the sauce.”

“Uh,” Orion began, nibbling on his bottom lip. “I have no idea how to make meatballs.” It was his turn to blush. “I don’t know how the hell I ended up on a date at a cooking class.”

I could feel Orion’s anxiety. Been there. Done that. Bought the T-shirt. “Okay, we’ll work on it together.” Reaching for the ground meat and a glass bowl, I noticed Orion’s shoulders start to relax. I wouldn’t mind working out his knots later. He was built like a Greek god. Muscled. Solid. Drop-dead gorgeous. How the hell had I gotten matched up with this man? Was it dumb luck? Fate? The random push of a button? I didn’t know, and frankly, with him hovering behind me, our bodies millimeters apart, I didn’t care.

After giving my date a quick rundown on how to use measuring cups and spoons, Orion easily added the ingredients to the bowl. “What’s next?” he asked, sounding more confident.

“Now we have to mix the meat and roll the balls.” I winked, my dick reawakening with a vengeance. While I was nervous as hell around Orion, my dick wasn’t. It jerked in my pants, letting me know he was good to go. “First, we need to put on these gloves.”

Orion watched curiously as I snapped the gloves on. I was used to wearing them from working with old manuscripts in the library, but my date didn’t seem like he’d ever worn them before. He got them partway on before they got stuck on his thick fingers, the ends flapping like used condoms.

Taking his large, hot hand in my own, I smoothed out the wrinkles and pulled the latex up to his wrist. Taking a peek up at Orion, I noticed he was watching me with intent. Orion’s eyes were mesmerizing. I felt like he was hypnotizing me with his heated gaze. “You need to mix all of the ingredients together with both hands. Make sure to pull up what’s on the bottom of the bowl. Ready?”

With a nod, Orion sank his hands into the meat mixture. He reminded me of a kid making mud pies in the backyard. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he didn’t know how to cook. “Here, let me show you.” I slipped under his arm, my back against his chest. At least from this position, he wouldn’t be able to feel my erection. Hopefully, Orion would be feeling it later.

What the hell was wrong with me? I was on a blind date with a virtual stranger. I could think of a million horrifying ways this date could end if we ended up back at my place. I watched way too much true crime television for my own good. People survived one-night stands all the time. Didn’t they?

“You were saying?” Orion whispered in my ear. He moved against me, closing the distance between us.

His meaty erection slid against my ass. I moaned low in my throat. To my ears, it sounded more like a growl. Christ, I was way in over my head here. Taking a deep breath, I wrapped my hands around Orion’s and carefully demonstrated how to mix the meat with the egg, breadcrumbs, and grated parmesan cheese. Chef Timmons’s admonition not to overwork the meat played in my head, but with Orion doing a slow bump and grind, I couldn’t give two fucks about the food. If the meal sucked, we could call out for pizza from bed. Another giggle bubbled up.

“What’s funny?” Orion asked, his voice like a caress.

“I don’t care how the food comes out.” I turned back to Orion. His eyes glowed with naked lust. He wanted me, and I was of a mind to let him have his way, first date or not.

“Your meat is perfect, boys. Stop playing with it. Time to roll those balls,” Chef Timmons said with a knowing smirk.

Orion jolted against my back, seemingly as surprised by the chef’s appearance as I was. Reluctantly, I backed out of his arms. “Do you want me to show you how to make a meatball?”

“I think I’ve got it.” Orion grabbed a hunk of the mixture and rolled it to perfection before setting it on the cookie sheet.

“You really know your way around balls,” I said, hoping to get a rise out of Orion.

He shot me a wicked grin. One that said he wanted to eat me alive. “Shouldn’t you get busy with the marinara? If you don’t get cooking, all you’ll have to eat are my balls.”

My cock jerking in my pants, I gave Orion a saucy look. “Fine by me.” Okay, who the hell was I? It wasn’t like me to flirt like this, not even with the few boyfriends I’d had over the years.

Chuckling under his breath, Orion kept working, leaving me free to start working on the marinara. Taking off my gloves, I grabbed the can of whole plum tomatoes. The label identified them as being imported from the San Marzano region of Italy, which meant they were the best tomatoes on earth. I opened the can and carefully poured it into the sauce pot. I was going to hand-crush the tomatoes like I’d seen celebrity chefs do on television. The sauce would be chunkier this way. Setting the can back on the counter, I felt a flash of pain in my hand. “Ow! Shit!” My index finger was sliced from the tip to the first knuckle.

“Are you okay?” Orion asked, taking my hand in his.

“I cut myself on the jagged edge of the can.” How could I have been so careless? Orion brought me to the sink at our station and turned on the cold water tap. I watched helplessly as my blood sluiced down the drain. As Orion held my hand under the water, I felt my flesh begin to heat. Not with lust the way it had earlier, but as if my finger was burning from the inside out. I grimaced, burying my head against his shoulder.

“You’re just fine. See?” Orion asked, his voice tender.

I chanced opening my eyes and couldn’t believe what I saw. My finger was healed. It looked just like it had before I’d cut it. What the hell had Orion done to me?

“Is everything okay here?” Chef Timmons asked, checking out my finger.

“He just banged it against the can.” Orion smiled at the chef. “Kaden thought he was bleeding, but it was just tomato juice on his hand.”

The chef surveyed my hand and nodded. “Get back to it. The sauce isn’t going to cook itself.”

“Yes, Chef,” I said, unable to take my eyes off my miraculously healed finger. I was cut. I felt the lid slice my skin. I saw the blood. I pulled my hand back from the water and reached for a towel.

Orion owed me an explanation about what happened, but now wasn’t the time.

CHAPTER FIVE

ORION

I have to say I didn’t even taste the meal. Yes, I ate, but I was too focused on the crazy magnetic pull drawing me closer and closer to Kaden. All through dinner, he kept looking at his healed finger as if he expected to see it covered in blood. I wasn’t in the habit of using my magic in public, but I’d made an exception for Kaden. When he cut himself, it was as if I could feel his pain. I hadn’t experienced anything like that in my life. I couldn’t figure out if I was more shaken over healing Kaden or my growing attraction for him.

“You’re pretty quiet,” Kaden said as we made our way back toward the library after class ended. A note of worry sounded in his voice.

“I was just thinking about tonight. When we first met, I didn’t think we had anything in common, and now it feels like we’re two halves of the same whole.” I still didn’t know how this was possible after only spending a few short hours with Kaden, but then it hit me. Cupid. He was responsible for my feelings of instant love toward my date.

Kaden nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. I mean, how could a gorgeous man like you even look twice at someone like me?”

A flash of anger made my heart beat faster. I grabbed Kaden’s slim shoulders and pulled him into me. “Don’t say that. You’re handsome. Brilliant. Perfect.” I bent low and brushed my lips against his. An all-consuming inferno ignited in my soul.

Wrapping his arms around me, Kaden moaned and tentatively kissed me back, his tongue sliding against my own.

I was lost, awash in a sea of emotion I could never hope to contain. At this moment, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Content to let these new feelings burn bright, I gave in to the kiss, taking control. My hands cupped either side of Kaden’s face. His freshly shaved skin was smooth under my fingers.

Bucking my hips against Kaden’s, I could feel the heat of his erection against my own. All I could think about was marking him and making him mine.

“Get a room, assholes!” someone shouted as they walked past us.

I pulled back from Kaden to get a look at the man who’d yelled at us. Thankfully, he’d said his piece and was walking away. The last thing I needed was to get in a fistfight with some drunken jerk in the middle of Boylston Street.

When I turned back to look at my date, he was gone. I spun around in a complete circle, and all I saw was a mangy dog.

“Achoo! Choo! Choo!” The dog shook his head after every sneeze.

“Kaden?” I called out, keeping one eye on the dog. I know this is an unpopular and even controversial thing to say, but I didn’t like pets. I wouldn’t say I hated dogs, but I didn’t want them in my house either.

The dog leaped up on his back legs and set his large paws on my chest. It was a lot bigger than I thought it was originally. “Nice doggy,” I said, setting my hands over his paws. Getting a closer look at the animal, I realized it wasn’t a dog at all. It was a wolf. A black wolf with the most gorgeous green eyes I’d ever seen. What the hell was a wolf doing in the middle of downtown Boston? Wouldn’t there have been some kind of alert sent to my phone if a vicious wild animal had gotten loose from the Franklin Park Zoo? “Good boy,” I whispered, pushing gently against his paws.

“Achoo! Choo! Choo!” The wolf backed away from me and continued to sneeze. He sat back on his haunches, looking as if he was waiting for something.

My mind turned back to Kaden. Where the hell had he gone? The wolf whined. He got back to his feet and brushed against my leg. He looked at me with what I couldn’t help thinking was longing. “Kaden?”

The wolf nodded his head.

“You’re a werewolf?” I asked, unable to believe my eyes. The man I’d spent the evening with and had started falling in love with was a shape-shifter?

Before my eyes, Kaden shifted back to his human self. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Hollywood movies got the transformation all wrong. “What the actual fuck?” I whispered, taking several steps back.

“Uh, yeah. I was going to tell you,” Kaden began.

“When? Back at my place? After I’d fucked you? After you ripped out my throat and I was bleeding to death? What the hell is wrong with you? There was nothing about your…your condition on the dating site.” My mind was spinning a mile a minute. I needed to calm the hell down before he shifted again and tried to eat me.

“I’m sorry, Orion.” Kaden’s gaze was on my feet. “I should have told you, but most people react like you did just now, so I kept it to myself.”

“What made you shift? Were you afraid of the man who shouted at us?”

Kaden shook his head. “No, it was from my arousal. I mean, I can shift at will, but sometimes, when my gears are grinding, so to speak, it just…happens.”

“Acne just happens!” I half shouted. “A sneeze just happens. Not shifting into some kind of movie monster.” I gasped at the words rushing out of my mouth. Hell, I was a five-thousand-year-old demigod; I was the last person who should be judging Kaden, but fuck me blue, this was a nightmare.

“I get it. If my own family shunned me and kicked me out of my pack, what chance did I have with a total stranger?” Kaden asked. He sounded resigned to his fate. “It was nice to meet you, Orion. I guess Cupid doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing after all.” Without looking up at me, he walked away.

I spun around to watch him go. Part of me knew I should go after him and apologize, offer to walk him back to his car, but the other part was pissed. Not at Kaden. After the kind of reaction he got from me, it was painfully obvious why he didn’t tell me he was a werewolf in the first place. I was mad at Cupid. Actually, mad was a gross understatement of what I was feeling. Bone-deep rage was a better way of putting it. When I got my hands on the son-of-a-goddess, I was going to let my fists do the talking.

Twenty minutes later, I walked back into my condo. Instead of dissipating, my rage had only burned brighter. Closing my eyes, I cast my memory back to the ancient words used to summon a god. I said them over and over in my head, knowing Cupid would be powerless to resist me.

“Orion!” Cupid said, his eyes dancing with obvious merriment. “You’re looking good. It’s been a while.”

Rushing forward, I grabbed the cherub by the throat. “It’s been a while because the last time we saw each other, you got me killed, asshole!”

Shoving back against me, Cupid freed himself from my iron grip. He raised a sardonic eyebrow as he tried to get his breath back. “It seems you’ve recovered.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I challenged. “Why is it every time we come in contact with each other, you fuck me over?”

Cupid held up his hands. “How was I to know Apollo would react to you spending time with Artemis the way he did?”

“You’re fucking Cupid! Couldn’t you have zinged one of your arrows at him so he’d have known I was in love with him and not his sister?” The innocent look on Cupid’s face only served to fuel my anger.

“You know my arrows don’t work on the gods and goddesses of Olympus.” Cupid took a deep breath and walked to my fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to me. “Drink this. You’re going to spontaneously combust if you don’t cool off.”

I hated how Cupid knew another of my weaknesses but twisted off the cap and took a long drink anyway.

“I don’t know what you think is going on here.” Cupid sat down hard on the edge of my leather sectional. “I did everything in my power to hook you up with Apollo. You know I did. What he did to you in a fit of rage should tell you more about him than anything. He was obscenely jealous. Hotheaded. Irrational. And those are some of his better qualities. The man you were in love with killed you, Orion.”

As angry as I was at the moment, I had to admit to myself Cupid had a point. All I cared about were Apollo’s looks. His dark eyes and his muscled physique haunted my dreams. I thought if he would only notice me, we could have built something to last. Instead, he made our first meeting my last day on earth. “Yeah, I remember. I’d still be with Hades in the Underworld if it wasn’t for Aphrodite.”

Cupid laughed. His giggles filled the room, making me feel impossibly lighter in the process.

“What the hell is so funny?” I growled. There was nothing remotely humorous about being stung repeatedly by the scorpion, his venom coursing through my veins like wildfire, while the love of my life looked on and laughed.

“Who do you think sent the goddess of love to you?” Cupid asked, pointing to himself. “My mother knew how devastated I was over your death. She knew I blamed myself. Aphrodite took it upon herself to save you, risking not only Apollo’s wrath but Zeus’s as well.”

Damn, what Cupid was saying had never crossed my mind. His helping to mop up after the fact wasn’t enough. Not only did I end up in the Underworld, but if things had gone differently tonight, Kaden could have sent me back. I didn’t need to be a demigod to know there would be no saving me a second time. “Yeah, well, whatever. My date tonight almost finished what Apollo started. Kaden could have torn me limb from limb. Don’t you even try to tell me you didn’t know he was a shifter.” Most of my anger was gone; what I felt instead was bone-weary and lost.

“Of course I know Kaden is a werewolf. I also know he’s walked a similar road as you, being ostracized from his family, living a life devoid of love. Sound familiar? He never would have hurt you. Neither would I.” Cupid seemed to study me for a few silent seconds. “I spent centuries watching you suffer over the loss of Apollo. Your pain was mine. When I sent you the invitation to join the dating agency, it was because I’d found your true soul mate. I’m doing this to make amends for what happened in the past. You healed Kaden tonight; now it’s time to finally heal yourself.”

I looked at Cupid and could see every word he’d said was the truth. “I’m sorry I tried to kill you.”

Cupid snickered. “What’s a little attempted murder between friends?”

Despite everything that happened tonight, I laughed along with him. My heart felt impossibly lighter.

“I know this is a lot for you to handle, but I wouldn’t have brought Kaden to you if I didn’t think you could handle his unique circumstance. Take some time to think things over. Remember the way it felt to hold him. To kiss him. I know you’ll make the right decision.” Cupid stood up, stretching his arms. “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, we won’t go millennia without seeing each other again.” With a wave, he began to dematerialize.

“Wait!” I shouted. “How do I know the feelings I have for Kaden are mine and not the result of your special arrows?”

“Kaden is your destiny. There were no arrows involved. Your feelings are your own. His too.” Setting his hand over his heart, Cupid vanished.

What the hell had I done? I sank into the sofa, trying to wrap my head around the complete and total disaster I’d made. More than anything, I wanted to go to Kaden and beg him to forgive me, to make things right, but I wouldn’t. Not yet.

I needed a way to woo back the man of my dreams. My soul mate. All I needed to do now was make a plan of action. One Kaden couldn’t resist. I could win him back.

I would win him back. I just had to.

CHAPTER SIX

KADEN

It was Valentine’s Day. Two days had passed since my disastrous date with Orion. A day that used to hold so much hope for me but now only made my empty heart ache.

I never should have told my coworkers I was going on a blind date. They’d all been so excited for me, but they’d spent the last two days being my personal motivational speakers. If just one more person told me it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, I would lose it. I should have taken a vacation day and stayed in bed, eating my feelings, but it appeared I was a glutton for punishment.

Patrons were kind enough to bring boxes of chocolates and flowers to my circulation desk throughout the day. I didn’t have the heart to tell them candy and vases filled with water didn’t belong anywhere near old manuscripts. Truth be told, I was happy someone thought of me. I’d eat the sweets tonight in front of the television, watching The Notebook for the hundredth time.

Around closing time, I walked through the stacks, straightening up and returning books to their proper place. I was on my way back to the front desk to grab my coat and treats when the lights went out. “What the actual fuck?” I whispered, pulling my phone out of my back pocket and turning on the flashlight app. That was just the latest thing that had gone wrong today. Maybe I’d pick up a bottle of strawberry wine to suck down with my chocolate.

A flickering light from the research table caught my eye. It looked like fire. Breaking into a run, I barreled my way to the front of the room. Fire was an absolute worst-case scenario. We had manuscripts in the collection dating back to before the birth of Christ.

When I reached the table, my breath caught in my throat. There was indeed fire but in the form of candles. I counted at least twenty of them. In addition, the table was set for two with grilled steak and potatoes. “What the hell?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Kaden,” Orion said, stepping out into the candlelight. He wore tight jeans and a blue button-down with most of the buttons undone. The man looked good enough to eat.

My heart sank. The last thing I needed was to see Orion today. Hadn’t he already done enough? “Why are you here?” My voice sounded like a growl to my own ears. Good! Orion deserved my anger after the way he’d treated me the other night.

“I wanted to apologize to you in person,” Orion said, slipping his hands into his pockets. He rocked back on his heels, a devilish smile curving his full lips. “I was a jerk the other night.”

“I can think of a few other words besides jerk.” I crossed my arms over my chest, unmoved by Orion’s apology. It was on the tip of my tongue to go off on him and tell him just what I thought of the way he’d acted the other night, but the sadist in me wanted to hear what I knew would be a flimsy excuse at best.

He chuckled. “Yeah, asshole, prick, dickhead, and butt munch sort of fit the bill.” His good-natured smile was disarming.

I didn’t want to be disarmed. I wanted to be angry. My kicked-up emotions were the only things standing between me and flinging myself into his strong arms. I nodded. “There’s no sense arguing. When you’re right, you’re right.”

“I was hoping you’d give me a second chance.” Orion pulled out a chair for me. “I know I don’t deserve one.”

“You’re damn right.” My words didn’t have their earlier heat. I wouldn’t admit it to Orion, but I was happy to see him. Stupid jerk.

Orion bit his lip and ushered me to the seat. The plates were porcelain, midnight blue with what looked like a star pattern. Probably the constellation Orion. The steak was cut expertly, and the potatoes were coated in butter and bacon.

I threw myself into the chair, scowling at Orion as I sat. “I’m listening.” I might be willing to hear him out, but I wasn’t going to make it easy on him. Grabbing a fork, I took a bite of the steak. Flavor exploded in my mouth. Moaning obscenely, I had another slice. I’d heard the term “foodgasm” before, but I’d never experienced one until now.

“Good, huh?” Orion’s cocky grin made him even more devastatingly handsome in the candlelight.

“You realize you brought fire into a room completely made of kindling. One wrong move and this entire collection goes up in smoke.” Christ, I sounded like a brat. Not that Orion didn’t deserve to pay a little more for being an enormous dick, but I had to admit I was being a bit harsh.

Stepping away from the table, Orion grabbed a book from the shelf behind him. I could tell it was a well-worn copy of Homer’s Odyssey. He held it over the fire, and the cover caught alight.

“Stop!” I scrambled out of my seat, smacking my hip against the edge of the table in my effort to get to him. What was Orion doing? What the hell had I been thinking by goading him on and practically daring him to set the library on fire? I barreled toward him, grabbing for the book when I was close enough.

Orion grinned and held the book out of my reach, letting it burn. His eyes danced with glee.

What kind of asshole was this man? My mind spun. I ran to grab the fire extinguisher, needing to put the fire out before the sprinklers turned on. Water was just as dangerous to old manuscripts as fire.

“Wait. Just watch.” Orion closed his eyes, and the fire went out. The burned pages and cover seemed to be regenerating themselves. Seconds later, the book was whole, in the condition it had been before it had been brought to the candle. He offered the book to me.

“I can’t believe this.” Too stunned at what happened to be angry, I took the tome and leafed through it. “You healed the book like you healed my finger the other night. How did you do it?”

“There’s something I need to tell you about myself. Something big.” Orion took the seat across from me. A worried look flashed in his eyes.

“Bigger than me being a werewolf?” I asked, unable to imagine there was anything more seismic than being a shape-shifter.

“Yeah, much bigger.” Orion took a deep breath. “There was a reason I chose The Odyssey. Turn to page seventy-five.”

Flipping through the book, I found the page he’d mentioned. I skimmed it quickly until I came to a familiar name. “This passage talks about Orion. How he was a great hunter and was killed by the scorpion, then brought back to life by the sun.” I gasped at the next line. “He had two different-colored eyes after being blinded by Apollo.” No. This wasn’t possible. The man in front of me couldn’t possibly be the Orion of Greek legend. Could he?

Orion blushed shyly. “My father is Poseidon. I can command the seas and communicate with animals, kind of like Aquaman. When Hephaestion restored my life, I was endowed with a little magic. That’s how I was able to heal your hand and the book.”

Orion’s secret was much bigger than me being a werewolf. I shook my head, still stunned by his revelation. “How many years have you been alive? Are you immortal?”

“I’m 5,031 years old.” Orion chuckled. “Almost, but not quite immortal.”

“What do you mean?” The man before me didn’t look much older than thirty-five. I was an expert on Greek mythology, but never in my wildest dreams could I ever have imagined meeting someone like Orion. What was really ringing my bell was the fact that these gods, goddesses, and other classical heroes were real, not just folklore and products of a rich oral tradition.

“When I find my one true love, my soul mate, I’ll begin to age again. Aphrodite wanted me to taste love before I die.” Love shimmered in Orion’s eyes as he spoke to me.

“You’ve lived all those years, and you’ve never known love?” My heart broke for Orion. He hadn’t gone years without love like I had—no, he’d gone millennia.

“I thought I was in love once.” Orion shook his head, as if to say he couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. “It didn’t work out the way I wanted it to, but now I know why. It’s because I was meant to love you.”

“Me?” I was blown away by Orion’s words. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you, spending so much time alone.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I had my share of lovers, but none of them could hold a candle to you. Finding you made all the lonely nights worth it.” Orion pulled me into his chest. Wrapping his arms around me, he held me tight.

I never wanted him to let me go. “What do we do now?” My head was still spinning. I had a feeling that sensation was going to become par for the course with Orion.

“Oh, I think you know exactly what we’re going to do now.” Orion’s voice was soft and silky.

“Take your clothes off,” I commanded. “I need to touch you.” I had never wanted anyone more than I wanted Orion in this moment, something else I had a feeling was going to be a regular thing between us.

Orion laughed. “What, here in the library? In front of all these innocent books?”

“They’re not as innocent as you think.” My shaking hands reached for Orion, fumbling over his buttons. When they were undone, I pushed the shirt down his broad shoulders and off. “You’re a masterpiece,” I whispered, unable to fully catch my breath. I’d seen so many beautiful things in my life—the painted ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, the Taj Mahal—but nothing could or would ever compare to Orion. He was a demigod, after all.

His skin was hot and bathed in the golden firelight. I reached for his belt, undoing it deftly, my now-steady fingers brushing against his bulging erection.

Moaning my name, Orion hitched his hips toward me. “Hurry. I’ve waited centuries for you. I don’t want to wait another second longer.”

Quickly undoing his button and zipper, I pushed his jeans down over his hips. Orion’s thick, juicy cock sprang free. “Fuck me,” I whispered, never having seen such a huge tool. I had no earthly idea how the hell I was going to suck all that dick, but I was determined to try.

Sinking to my knees, I reached for Orion. I wrapped my hands around him, giving his cock a few slow strokes. His hard flesh made me burn harder for him. I wanted to take my time with him, getting to know every inch of his olive skin, but I couldn’t hold myself back. “We’ll go slow next time. I promise.” Before Orion could respond, I wrapped my lips around him, sliding as far down as I could before gagging. Fuck, he felt good.

Orion wrapped his hands around the back of my head. “Touch yourself. I need to see all of you.”

Maneuvering the best I could from my knees with a giant cock halfway down my throat, I got my pants undone and pushed them past my ass, losing my mouthful in the process. My own dick had never been harder in my life.

Brushing his tool against my lips, I took him back into my mouth. He set a fast pace, fucking my face relentlessly. I stroked myself in time with Orion. I wasn’t going to last long. Between the needy look in his eyes and the way he moaned as my tongue caressed him, I was a goner.

“Fuck, Kaden!” Orion roared, his hot release spraying against the back of my throat.

My own cock erupted. Hot, sticky come coated my fingers as I worked my throat, trying to swallow Orion’s heavy load. When his dick was spent, I released him. Orion held a hand down to me, raising me to my feet.

Bringing my sticky hand to his lips, he licked my come from my fingers as if it were a delicacy. My entire body jolted with electricity, as if I’d been struck by one of Zeus’s legendary thunderbolts. “I love you,” I whispered.

Setting his hands on either side of my face, Orion grinned. He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you too.”

My heart had never felt so full as it did in that moment. “Why don’t we head back to my place for round two.” I wanted to spend the rest of the night—no, the rest of my life—worshipping his sculpted body.

“You took the words out of my mouth.” Orion bent to the floor to pull his pants back up.

“Does your magic work on modern technology?” I asked nervously, my mind clear and functioning again.

“I think so. Why?” Orion shot me a curious look.

I snorted. “This place is loaded with video cameras, and I wouldn’t want the head of security to see me giving you, well, head.” The old me would have never had sex in the library, or any other public place for that matter. Thanks to Orion, I was a changed man.

Orion laughed. The lyrical sound echoed off the vaulted ceiling. “I can take care of the video footage.” He pulled me to his chest. “I promise to spend the rest of my life taking care of you.”

“Does that include you returning the favor?” I hitched my reawakened dick against his left thigh.

“Oh, yes. Many, many favors.” Orion bent to kiss me.

Warm electricity wrapped itself around me, etching Orion’s name on my soul.

Cupid had actually done what he promised. He’d matched me with a man I could love for the rest of my life and into whatever afterlife would follow.

EPILOGUE

ORION

One year later…

I hadn’t been this nervous in all of my five-thousand-plus years on this planet. My stomach twisted and flopped like an ancient trireme ship sailing the Aegean Sea. For good reason too. For the first time in a long time, I was back on my native soil.

Thanks to Cupid, I’d been able to make amends with Apollo. He no longer wanted me dead and even laughed at the miscommunication that precipitated my death. Sanctimonious prick. All the desire I’d once had for him was gone. Staring at him, I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d seen in him in the first place. No one could hold a candle to Kaden, not even the Greek god of the sun. I wasn’t about to share my revelation with Apollo. My former flame was a bit on the insecure side.

Kaden and I were an hour south of Athens in Cape Sounion, Greece, at the ruins of the Temple of Poseidon. Built around 440 BC, the temple was constructed in the typical rectangle with tall Doric columns and broad stairs leading to the inner shrine. Parts of the altar were still intact, while rounds of fallen columns littered the ground like a toppled wedding cake. Set atop a cliff overlooking the sparkling Aegean, the location had been a perfect spot to pay tribute to the god, my father.

I’d been in touch with Poseidon again, thanks to Apollo agreeing to bury the hatchet. He would meet us for dinner later, but in the meantime, I had some work to do.

The sun was beginning to set into the sea. Kaden and I sat, his back to my front, on the craggy cliff, ready to watch the show. I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “What do you think?”

Kaden grinned. “I still can’t believe we’re in Greece. This has been a trip of a lifetime for me, getting to visit all the ancient sites I’d only ever read about. These last two weeks have been heaven on earth.”

“Yes, they have, and it’s all thanks to you.” I’d spent every second of the last year I could with Kaden. There had been a bit of an adjustment period and some rocky days filled with growing pains, but I wouldn’t trade any of them. Every hardship, every loving look, and hours of bone-jarring sex had only served to cement our relationship.

“I’ve never seen a sunset quite like this before.” Kaden sighed, his gaze set on the horizon, which was golden with the sun’s dying rays. Above the gold were swirls of orange mixed with shades of pink and purple.

The topic of Kaden’s werewolf side had been one of those instances of rocky days. There were times when he couldn’t have cared less that he’d been shunned from his pack and others when he was so devastated he couldn’t get out of bed. It was a touchy subject to bring up. I’d thought long and hard about what I was about to say, and I hoped my next words wouldn’t doom my plans. “I’ve been thinking,” I began, butterflies rioting in my gut.

“Always a dangerous thing.” Kaden laughed and leaned back against my chest.

“When you’re right, you’re right,” I agreed easily. My eyes were on the colors in the sky while a warm breeze stirred my hair. “I want to heal you,” I whispered.

Kaden turned to look at me with a confused look on his face. “You have healed me. I’ve had countless paper cuts, stumbles, and falls over the last year. You’ve healed every single one of my injuries.”

“I want to cure your allergy.” My breath caught in my throat as I spoke. “We’ve talked so much about how being shunned has affected your life. If I were to put an end to your problem, you could go back to them as a whole man.”

He shook his head, looking as if he were gearing up for a fight. “I appreciate you wanting to do this for me, but if my family couldn’t accept me with my defect, then they don’t deserve to have me in their lives regardless of your being able to fix me or not.” Kaden’s voice held no anger, only a weariness I’d heard in him every time we talked about his condition.

“I hear you. Trust me, no one knows more about being shunned than me. This is the first time I’ve been back to Greece in nearly five thousand years.” Hearing the amount of time out loud never failed to make my heart ache. “My family were the gods and goddesses of Olympus. They could have sought me out at any point over the millennia, and they didn’t. Part of it was they were afraid of what Apollo’s revenge would look like, but that’s an awful lot of years for them to have kept their distance.”

“I know I sound like a whiny brat, but my answer is still no.” Kaden snuggled back against my chest.

“What if I cured you for you?” I knew I was dangerously close to inciting Kaden’s anger, which was the last thing I wanted on today of all days.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know how much you love being in wolf form. I also know what a toll the allergy meds take on you physically as well as mentally. What if you didn’t have to deal with those symptoms anymore? You wouldn’t have to tell a soul, certainly not your family. You could just enjoy running free.”

“I never thought about it like that before. Every other time we’ve talked about it, I couldn’t help thinking it was this mutation that kept me from fitting in with my family, but the real truth of the matter is I wouldn’t have been good enough for them no matter what.” Kaden took a deep breath. “Do it.”

Pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, I set my magic free. Any pain Kaden felt hurt me double. He deserved to live his best life, and I was determined to do whatever I could to help him. “Your wish is my command,” I whispered, my eyes on the sunset and our future. “How do you feel?”

Kaden was silent for a minute. “Physically, I don’t feel any difference, but my wolf is ecstatic. He can’t wait to run free.” He turned around to straddle my legs. “How do I ever thank you for this amazing gift?”

“Oh, it’s simple. All you have to do is agree to make me the happiest man in history.” Opening my closed hand, I revealed a gold wedding band.

“Holy shit!” Kaden gasped. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

I nodded, unshed tears turning my sight glassy. “You make my entire world shine. Your love is a gift I treasure with my entire being. My heart and my soul belong to you for all of time. Marry me, Kaden. Let me spend the rest of our lives showering you with love.” I held my breath. Kaden wore a look of stunned awe. I couldn’t tell if his reaction was a good omen or a bad sign.

Setting his hands on either side of my face, Kaden kissed me. It was the sweetest kiss of my life. “I can’t imagine living for one second without you by my side. This last year has been the best of my life. I find a hundred new reasons every day to fall in love with you again and again. You’re everything to me. My sun. My moon. My stars. It would be my greatest honor to be your husband.”

“Is that a yes?” My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear my own words.

“Definitely a yes!” Kaden held out his hand. My own shook as I slid the ring onto his finger. “It’s gorgeous.” The gold band sparkled in the dying rays of the sun.

I wrapped my arms around Kaden, hugging him tightly. For the first time in a long time, I felt free. Not defined by my past. No longer bitter or heartbroken, but whole. Kaden thought I was the one who’d spent the last twelve months healing him when, in fact, he healed me.

Above us, twinkling in the twilight, was the constellation Orion. Burning bright, like our love, for all eternity.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PANDORA PINE

Pandora is an M/M author who lives in Massachusetts. She spends her free time stalking unsuspecting wildlife with her camera, dreaming of tropical beaches, surviving on spearmint leaves, and battling devious plot bunnies who refuse to wait their turn.

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THE HIDDEN GOD OF OPEN DOORS

TAVIA LARK

CHAPTER ONE

Exhaustion blurring his eyes, Rune shuffles into his mismatched kitchen. He’s not sure what time it is—every appliance lists a different hour, and Rune doesn’t have any windows to check for daylight. Morning is whenever Rune wakes up. Evening is whenever he goes to sleep again.

Rune’s hexagonal prison is comfortable, dark, and lonely. Wooden screens separate the chamber into a bedroom, parlor, and kitchen. Like the rest of his belongings, the screens appeared out of nowhere one day. New things are rare, but Rune has lived here long enough to accumulate a lot. There wouldn’t be enough space for everything, except items also vanish when Rune stops using them.

Books, puzzles, needle and thread. More modern clothing sometimes, though Rune’s current tie-dye T-shirt is at least fifty years old. The television—once tiny and silent, now large and loud—keeps Rune sort-of sane. Before it appeared, Rune only caught glimpses of the outside world through the magic mirror.

Rune has been here, wherever here is, for a very long time. At least a hundred years. Maybe two hundred. Maybe many more. His memory is too bad to track time properly. He forgets years. He forgets where he comes from and who trapped him here—but he remembers why they did.

They said Rune was a demon. They imprisoned him because he was wicked, dangerous, and unnatural.

A human would have died in this chamber. Rune doesn’t age and doesn’t change. His body appears twenty-two, though he isn’t sure how he knows that, and his light brown skin never wrinkles. His narrow limbs neither widen nor shrink. This stasis is the only supernatural ability Rune is aware of, which seems unfair. If he’s such a dangerous demon, shouldn’t he have better magic?

Unless the magically appearing objects are his power too. That might just be a function of the chamber, though.

Rune doesn’t wonder about that today. Because the new item on his kitchen table requires all his attention. He’s seen similar small, sleek black rectangles countless time on recent television shows:

A cell phone.

Excitement chases away Rune’s exhaustion. “How did you get in here?”

The phone doesn’t answer now, but unlike most items Rune acquires, phones can talk back. They just have to connect to other phones. Rune covers his eyes and counts to twenty, trying to quell his silly hopes.

“It might not even work,” Rune tells himself.

The warning doesn’t work any more than counting to twenty did. Holding his breath, Rune picks up the phone. The cool metal case sits large in his palm.

A simple tap illuminates the screen. Iridescent pink hearts swarm like a tiny pink galaxy as the background. Rune tilts the screen back and forth, fascinated, before noticing the little square image in the top left corner.

The cell phones on Rune’s television usually have lots of little square apps. His only has a few, and the one labeled Heart2Heart draws his attention.

The name sounds familiar, which means Rune’s either read about it or seen it on television. He taps it—and jumps back, startled by the noise. A new interface fills the screen. More hearts, exclamation marks, and photos of smiling people. He pushes back his long black hair and slumps in a chair to figure this out.

Eventually, he has the gist. Heart2Heart invites him to make an account, so he can sign up for their special Valentine’s Day event. The app has partnered with Cupid, and the minor god of love will find Rune’s perfect date.

Rune almost sets the phone right back down. What’s the point? Rune can’t go on any date, much less a perfect one. He may be trapped who-knows-where, with nobody to talk to but himself and inanimate objects, but he knows the point of dating apps: dating.

Nobody will want to match with someone they can never meet.

Nobody will want to match with an evil demon.

Rune chews the inside of his lip. The phone warms with the heat of his hand. Yearning twists deeper into Rune’s heart—and there’s an option to exchange messages before the date.

He’s nobody’s perfect match. But what if he doesn’t ask for much? Just talking to someone would be so nice.

Exhaustion isn’t what blurs Rune’s vision this time. He wipes his eyes and starts painstakingly tapping his way through making an account.

CHAPTER TWO

Raider has an hour to kill before the ritual contractors show up. He’s used to the “hurry up and wait” lifestyle, but he’s antsy in a way he never used to get on the job.

Which is fucking hilarious. Twenty years of high-stakes paranormal treasure hunting? No problem. Six months into his new career as a small business owner? Raider’s ready to tear his hair out.

Or his sister’s hair, if Val keeps bugging him about dating.

Propping his boots up on his shop counter, Raider leans back in his chair. The shop is nearly ready—an organized, practical space. Plain wooden shelves for the safe merchandise, and spell-proof glass-fronted cabinets for the slightly less safe merchandise. Anything actually risky will be downstairs. The shelves and cabinets are all empty now, of course. Raider can’t store much inventory before his contractors finish setting up the ritual protections. He’s more used to breaking wards than setting them, so calling in other experts is safer.

Val suggested beaded curtains and incense burners, but Raider vetoed the woo factor. He doesn’t need to wonder whether mysterious wispy smoke is just incense or something actually haunted.

Raider won that argument, because Artifacts, Alchemy, Etc. is his retirement project. Not hers. But Val is much more determined about her new crusade: shoving Raider back into the dating scene. She hasn’t shut up about this H2H app, and she’s only gotten more annoying since their Valentine’s Day event rolled out.

“Valentine’s Day is only a month away,” Val said over beers last night. “You need someone to keep you company in your old age. You’re going to turn into a hermit living over your little shop.”

Raider waved at the crowded sports bar around them. “Much pathetic, very hermit.”

Val rolled her eyes. “Hanging out with your cool, awesome sister doesn’t count. I swear, the only way you’re getting laid is if Cupid hand-delivers you a piece of ass.”

“Whatever, Valkyrie,” Raider says. But Val must be getting more mature, too, because the use of her full name doesn’t piss her off like it used to. She just smirks like she knows exactly what Raider’s doing.

The worst part is Val’s probably right. Not about the old age thing—Raider is only thirty-five. And he only looks twenty-nine.

Which is the problem. Raider hasn’t indulged in anything more than mindless hookups in six years. Hooking up is easy. Raider’s a confident man, which would be hot enough even if he wasn’t also actually hot. Six foot two, phenomenal tattooed biceps, and piercing golden eyes? Raider’s not really his own type, but he’s obviously a ten.

Serious dating, however, gets complicated with the whole immortality thing.

Drinking from the Fountain of Youth seemed like a good idea at the time. After all the effort needed to find the fountain in the first place, not drinking seemed like a waste. Raider doesn’t exactly regret the sip, but he hadn’t thought through the practicalities.

Val understands to an extent. She was right there with him on that job, and she drank from the fountain too. She’ll be twenty-seven forever, and her brown eyes turned gold the same as Raider’s. The key difference between Raider and his sister is that Val is happy to date vampires.

Call him vanilla, but Raider prefers sticking his dick in warm-blooded partners.

He also doesn’t want to cling to his youth—ironic, yeah. Raider wants a steadier life than the thrills of treasure hunting, at least for the next few decades. He and Val want to spend more time with their parents. Artifacts, Alchemy, Etc. is also Raider’s chance to provide a more responsible home for all artifacts rescued and returned. He can appraise and identify mysterious items, disable dangerous curses, and buy and sell anything with a verified record.

Except Raider’s nervous about getting stuck in a new rut too. Throwing himself into his new business with the same dangerous intensity as his last job. His reckless work ethic made him the best in the fucking business—okay, Val would dispute that. But it didn’t leave much of him left.

So, Raider needs something besides work. Learn a language. Exercise. Dungeons and Dragons. Or even…

Fuck, he hates when Val is right.

What’s the harm in signing up for a dating app? Raider will either score or not. Maybe he’ll find some casual fun to pass the time until he figures out how to actually date while immortal.

Before he can second-guess himself, Raider crosses his feet on the counter and downloads the Heart2Heart app. It installs while Raider flips through his photos for acceptable dating profile pics. He passes over the ones with his sister—despite the family resemblance, someone might misunderstand. He also skips the ones with top-secret mystical artifacts. By the time he picks a couple that aren’t horrible, the app has finished loading.

Raider skims through the intro screens without reading them completely. Standard dating app things. The Valentine’s Day event catches his attention: Let Cupid find your perfect match.

Perfect. The divine cherub can do the work for him.

Blind date vs. chatting first is an easy choice. Raider’s trying to reduce surprises in his life right now. He uploads the photos, then ignores most of the specific profile fields to dump everything in the main description boxes. Starting with the important numbers.

Wants: 35, 6’2, 9”, top, looking for casual but not fast. I recently moved to start a new business and could use some new friends, plus or minus benefits. Can I send you random memes throughout the day? My sister is getting tired of the memes, and I need a new victim. Bonus points if you have a great ass.

Don’t want: Someone who likes socializing and clubbing. Someone who needs to be constantly on the move, traveling etc. Someone involved in artifact hunting. I’m serious about my new business, and I’m done with adventures and misadventures alike—though get a few drinks in me and I’ll tell you all the stories. Well. Most of the stories ;)

Raider types it all out in one go and hits match before he can talk himself out of it—right when the front bell rings. Shoving his phone away, he jumps over the counter to let the ritual contractor in.

The evaluation takes all afternoon. The contractor hasn’t even started the security spells by the time Raider shows her out. That will have to be another appointment. A delivery arrives on the contractor’s heels, and Raider spends the rest of the evening setting up the safe box shelves in the basement.

It’s hectic, but a good kind of hectic. Raider’s putting things in place, setting things up. Not breaking things down. He’s feeling good about his progress when he retreats to his upstairs apartment, cracks open a can of beer, and finally remembers the Heart2Heart app.

Raider flops onto his leather couch and fishes out his phone. When he opens the app, a congratulatory banner flashes across the screen—Cupid found his perfect, magical match.

When Raider clicks into the profile, his jaw drops. Eyes glued to the phone screen, he sets his beer on the coffee table so he doesn’t drop it too. Because Rune is only the most stunning man Raider has ever seen.

The photo is soft, a selfie taken indoors. Rune’s glossy dark hair falls to his shoulders, framing a soft, narrow face. A spark of fire gleams in the young man’s dark eyes. His sharp collar bones disappear under the neck of his tie-dye shirt. He isn’t smiling—there’s a determined look to his eyes, like he’s concentrating very hard on taking the selfie.

“Well, fuck.”

Raider hadn’t listed “eleven out of ten, sexiest twink alive” as one of his requirements. But that apparently is what Cupid has delivered.

Time to rein in his excitement.

Raider retrieves his beer for a long drag. There’s no way this Rune is completely perfect. With looks like this, there must be another reason Rune is single.

Ready for the red flags, Raider scrolls to the profile details. Rune left most of the fields—age, location, profession—blank too, most of the details in the same want and don’t want fields.

Wants: Someone with a sense of humor, easy to talk to. I’m alone a lot, and having someone to chat with would be nice. I like learning about people, and I’d love to hear about your job and your weather and your regular day. As for anything romantic, I don’t know. I would want someone very patient. I’ve never done anything like this before. I hope I’m not asking for too much.

Don’t want: Meeting in person.

Okay, starting with how alone Rune is counts as a yellow flag, minimum. But there’s a sense of naïve honesty to the description. Raider definitely believes Rune has never used a dating app before, because there’s nothing about hiking or dogs or craft beer.

Still, Raider can handle yellow flags. The main disappointment is not wanting to meet in person. Even though Raider said he was okay with just friends—Cupid wasn’t supposed to believe that.

But Raider puts that aside when the inbox blinks. Clicking in, he finds a pile of unread messages. The first came hours ago, right after the contractor arrived.

Rune: Cupid says we’re matches, and that I should say hello. Hello!

The second arrived half an hour later.

Rune: You must be busy. Your information says you’re starting a business. That sounds really cool!

Rune: I don’t know if I’m actually a good match for you. I don’t remember ever doing anything interesting. So, I understand if you don’t want to talk with me. I’m probably pretty boring.

Rune: I’ve just looked that up, and self-deprecation is not recommended for dating conversations. I’m sorry.

Rune: I am boring, but I don’t mean that as self-deprecation. That’s just how it is, and it doesn’t bother me. I hope it doesn’t bother you.

Rune: I’ve sent you too many messages. I’m sorry. I’ll delete some of them.

There’s another hour-long gap.

Rune: I don’t know how to delete them.

Rune: I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do any of this. I don’t know why I thought it would work. I’m probably not what you want. I don’t even think I have a great ass. I hope you’re having a great day, and that your business is going really well.

Raider can’t help it. The corner of his mouth lifts. Adorable, nervous, earnest. This guy is absolutely not what Val wanted him to go for—but Raider can’t help it. He loves a project.

So, Raider takes another swig of beer and taps a reply.

CHAPTER THREE

Rune paces the confines of his prison. It’s been hours since he matched, and Raider still hasn’t responded.

There are plenty of possible reasons for the silence. Raider is busy. He’s sleeping. But Rune’s head keeps turning over other possibilities, each just as likely. Maybe Raider took one look at Rune’s profile and wasn’t interested. Maybe Raider doesn’t want a man he can’t meet in person.

Worst of all—Rune keeps coming back to this, then shying away⁠—

Maybe Raider doesn’t actually exist. Even if Rune could acquire a phone, what makes him think it’s connected to a real person? None of Rune’s appliances work how they should according to his books and television. There’s no electricity here. Maybe the phone is just a toy.

And stupid, gullible Rune is working himself into a dither over a hallucination.

The loss shouldn’t be so disappointing. When Rune woke up, he wasn’t thinking about being able to talk to someone. But now that possibility has been dangled in front of him, his eyes sting. His stomach turns nauseous at the thought of it being taken away.

With one arm wrapped around his stomach, Rune retrieves the phone from the kitchen table. Like picking at a scab, he scrolls through Raider’s profile again.

Raider’s photo fascinates Rune. Pale, sun-warmed skin speaks of a life outdoors. Dark brown hair, bright golden eyes, and tattoos. A black-ink snake winds around Raider’s left arm, and a flowering vine twists around the right. The tattoos are clear because in the photo, Raider is wearing a lime green, loose tank top. A bottle in his hand, he leans against a railing. Cloud-studded blue sky sweeps behind him.

Before Rune flips to the other photos, the inbox icon blinks. Drawn to the attractive flash of color, Rune clicks it before realizing what it means. Below Rune’s awkward rambling sits a reply from Raider.

Raider: Sorry, cutie, I got caught up in work. Besides, you should let me be the judge.

The word cutie spins through Rune’s soul with shocking warmth. Stunned, he closes the app and turns the phone off.

He turns the phone back on, reopens the app, and finds the message still there. Leaning against his kitchen counter, Rune carefully types back.

Rune: What should you be the judge of?

Three dots immediately dance next to the tiny picture of Raider’s face.

Raider: How great your ass is ;)

Rune nearly drops his phone. Heat flushes his face, along with a stunned elation. Raider has to be real, because Rune never imagined his first remembered conversation would go like this.

Raider: Shit, don’t let me scare you off. I saw you don’t want to meet in person, and that’s fine. Consider that boundary respected. Super respectfully.

Rune: I’m not scared.

Raider: You sure? I can be very scary.

A smile tugs Rune’s lips. Typing on the little screen is getting easier. Is talking to people always this fun? He slides down the cabinets to sit on the floor, elbows braced on his knees.

Rune: I’ve heard of this conversational practice. You’re flirting with me.

Raider: Guilty as charged :)

Raider: Have you really never dated anyone before? You’re cute, you’re funny. Regardless of great ass status, you’re a catch.

Rune: I don’t get out much, and there aren’t many options here.

Raider: Small town?

Rune: Small is an understatement. Or an overstatement?

Lying hurts, even through the glow of praise. The first real conversation Rune remembers and he’s already behaving terribly. Guilt twists his stomach, but he can’t bring himself to tell the truth. That he’s trapped down here, that he doesn’t know where he is, that he barely knows who he is. That he’s probably evil. That he’s been alone for so long.

Rune changes the subject instead.

Rune: What were you working on today? I don’t know anyone who’s started a business.

Getting Raider off track is easier than expected. Rune clings to the phone, genuinely fascinated, as Raider fills the screen with a series of enthusiastic essays. Raider describes his recent retirement from treasure hunting—which sounds thrilling enough. But Raider’s genuine joy in his new relic shop is even more interesting. Rune has read and watched plenty of adventure stories. The connection is new. The emotion.

Basking in Raider’s passion warms Rune just as much as the occasional—okay, frequent—flirty comments.

Rune could listen for days, but eventually, Raider interrupts himself.

Raider: Fuck, it’s almost 1. Bedtime for Old Man Raider. I have another contractor meeting in seven hours, and I can’t pull all-nighters like I used to.

Rune: 36 isn’t old, but you should still sleep.

Raider: You get some sleep too. Talk to you tomorrow :)

Rune: Will you?

Rune sends the question in surprised delight—but realizes as soon as he sends it that he might sound needy. One of the phone apps purports to be an internet browser. While waiting for Raider to reply earlier, Rune had looked up a guide to online dating. The guide said not to sound needy, along with avoiding self-deprecation.

Rune: Sorry

Raider: You’re free to ignore me, cutie, but I’m definitely hitting on you again tomorrow ;)

Raider: Give me a kiss goodnight?

Rune: How?

Raider: Touch your finger to your lips.

Raider: Then touch the phone screen.

Something flutters in Rune’s chest. Touching his lips with a single fingertip, he’s never been more aware of his own physical form. The texture and heat of his own skin. When Rune touches the phone, the screen is warm too. He presses his finger next to Raider’s tiny photo.

Raider: Did you do it?

Rune: Yes

Raider: Good boy.

Raider: I did too. Sweet dreams ;)

Then Raider goes offline, leaving Rune huddled around the glowing phone. Rune doesn’t move, but he could float away on the thrill.

He talked to someone. A real person. And that real person wanted to talk to Rune too. Even if nothing else happens, even if Raider forgets or changes his mind about talking tomorrow?

This is already the best day Rune remembers.

CHAPTER FOUR

Raider can’t wait until after his meeting the next morning. He dashes off a quick “Good morning, cutie” through a bleary squint at his phone, before he even makes coffee. Seven in the morning shouldn’t be a real time.

Rune’s reply is immediate.

Rune: Good morning!

Raider: Wow, you’re up early.

Raider: Or maybe not. What time is it for you?

There’s a long pause after that. Raider’s coffee and loaded bagel are ready by the time his phone dings again.

Rune: 7:30 AM

Raider: Cool, same time zone :)

Raider sends a photo of his coffee and bagel. Nothing fit for social media—the bagel’s a delicious bacon-y mess on the garage sale plate. The coffee is in a chipped, sickly green mug that says I Robbed the Royal Museum and All I Got Was This Cursed Mug.

Not actually cursed. Raider thoroughly tested it after Val gave it to him five birthdays ago.

Raider: Have you eaten yet?

Rune: Not yet.

Raider: Then I can’t ask what you’re eating… awesome. What are you wearing? ;)

There’s another long pause. Raider doesn’t mind. He imagines the pretty young man in the photo staring at the phone screen and squirming—and the mental image is appealing. Rune is clearly nervous about this whole Cupid match thing, but being patient with him is easy.

Raider’s phone doesn’t ding again until he’s already downstairs. The empty shop front is serene, all gold and shadows in the early morning light. The pale wood shelves and cabinets are still empty, filled only with possibilities. Raider unlocks the front door, then leans against the counter to open the Heart2Heart app.

Instead of a message, there’s a photo.

A blurry, soft photo of Rune standing in front of a full-length mirror. The photo cuts off at his neck, showing just a hint of long hair sweeping over his shoulders. He holds the phone with both hands in front of his chest, and he’s wearing the same tie-dye shirt as in his profile photo.

This new photo shows that the shirt is baggy, comfortably shapeless, all blurry pink and purple and teal. It’s too big for Rune’s narrow frame, and the hem falls midway down Rune’s thighs.

Rune’s smooth, bare thighs.

Raider’s mouth waters at the sleek lines of brown skin. He wants more than anything to reach under the hem of that baggy shirt to see what—if anything—Rune is wearing underneath.

Operating on pure horny reflex, Raider saves the photo to his phone before replying.

Raider: You know how you were worried you weren’t good at this dating app thing?

Raider: Stop fucking worrying.

Raider: You’re a master.

Rune types for a full five minutes before sending a simple smile emoji.

A few weeks pass, until Raider doesn’t know what he was worried about either. Why did he resist Val’s amazing ideas for so long? Not that Raider intends to tell her that. But online dating is a fucking breeze.

At least, talking to Rune is easy.

They switch to texting after the first few days. There’s something weird about Rune’s phone number—it shows up as Unknown Number and Raider can’t figure out how to see the actual number. But Rune can text Raider’s number just fine, and replying in the same thread works like texting anyone else.

Talking to Rune feels so natural. Raider’s a month away from opening Artifacts, Alchemy, Etc., but some nights, he’s more excited about talking to Rune than about his new business.

Even telling Rune about the immortality thing is easier than expected.

Rune: You asked why I don’t have a boyfriend… why don’t you?

Raider: It’s a little complicated. Val and I sort of accidentally drank from the Fountain of Youth on a job.

Rune: Accidentally?

Raider: We thought it was another fake, lol. There are a bunch of knockoffs that just rejuvenate you a bit. Clear your pores, firm up your ass a bit. But turns out no… we’re actually immortal now.

Raider: I’m not complaining, but it makes long-term relationship planning tough. My long-term is different than most people’s.

Raider: It’s fine if that’s a problem for you.

Rune: No, it’s a good thing.

Rune: I like the thought of you living forever :)

Val knows something’s up. Raider meets her at least once a week for beer and pizza, and she picks up on it immediately. She’s very intelligent and dangerously good at reading people. She always picked out the right person to bribe for information about local legends.

But Val doesn’t need to be intelligent with the way Raider grins sappily every time he sets down his beer to answer a text. “So, what do you say?”

“What?” Raider asks, looking up from his phone.

Val points. “You’re smiling like an idiot.”

Raider rolls his eyes and hits Send on one more message to Rune. “Okay, fine. You were right. That app was a good idea.”

“Holy shit.” Val covers her mouth on a mocking gasp. “That should have taken way longer to get out of you. Who is he, and when’s the wedding?”

“Right after yours. How many vampire brides have you collected now?”

“What? No!” Val waves her hands. “I’m not marrying Grizelda or Severina, and you aren’t changing the subject. Are you at least doing something for next week?”

But Raider’s as stubborn as she is, and he’s changing the subject. Next week is Valentine’s Day, and Raider’s only plans are (definitely) texting Rune and (probably) jerking off to blurry selfies.

There’s something special about Rune. Raider wants to keep him all to himself until he’s figured him out. Raider and Val spent so long hunting artifacts and treasure together, defusing ancient ritual traps, restoring ancient artifacts to their rightful homes.

Raider wants something for himself.

Besides, this thing with Rune is still casual. Still new. They haven’t even voice-called yet—no way is Raider telling Val about him.

That thought rattles around Raider’s head later that night, while he puts away a month’s worth of laundry. Piles of clean towels and T-shirts and jeans sprawl across his king-sized bed. As his incoherent cleaning playlist blasts alt rock, country, and opera, Raider wonders what Rune’s voice sounds like.

Bad thought. Phone calls are a slippery slope. Rune doesn’t want to meet in person, and Raider is fine with that.

Really, totally fine with that.

Catching up on all his chores and tidying up his apartment above the shop is what Raider would be doing anyway. He’s not cleaning up on the off chance he gets to bring someone besides Val over.

Which is good, because Raider will never be done folding laundry at this rate. He keeps pausing to text Rune back.

Rune: Will it be dangerous keeping so many valuable artifacts in one place?

Raider: I’ve got security systems. And trust me, I can handle trespassers ;)

Rune: What about the magic artifacts though? Would they interact with each other?

Raider: Oh, I’m not keeping anything super dangerous in the main shop. No scary curses.

Rune: That’s good.

Rune is so interested in everything Raider does, from his shop to his evening runs to what he eats for breakfast. Even if it’s the same coffee and bagel every morning. Raider thought Rune was faking the interest at first. Then he was flattered by it.

Now? Raider’s getting worried. The adorable, shy young man seems so lonely.

I’m alone a lot, Rune’s H2H profile says. So far, “a lot” seems to be “all the time.” Rune is always available to talk, at any hour. He’s vague about how he spends his days. Every time Raider tries angling for information, Rune deflects.

There’s something strange about Rune’s photos too. Not Rune himself, who appears perfect in every way. Not the awkward, blurry angles—the inexpert selfies are very charming. But something is odd about the background rooms. Raider can’t quite put his finger on it, however many times he flips through the collection saved to his phone.

Maybe Raider is imagining things. No more treasure hunts, and setting up the shop is going too smoothly. Maybe Raider’s so desperate for a new quest, he’s turning this H2H match into a mystery to solve.

The speculation might be unfair. This is casual. Super casual. Just like Raider told Cupid he wanted.

Rune: You should get a cat.

Raider: Yeah?

Rune: You clearly like them. All of your funny image memes are about cats.

Raider: Maybe I should. My parents have dogs, but I used to travel too much to have my own pet.

Raider: Do you have any pets?

Raider: If you have pets and haven’t sent photos, I’m going to be very cross with you.

Rune: Please don’t be cross! I haven’t withheld any pet photos

Rune sends a laughing emoji, proving he isn’t actually distressed. Raider chews his lip, then gives into his urge to pry.

Raider: Are you allowed to have pets at your place? Or would your landlord or roommates not like it?

Sure enough, there’s that telltale pause as Rune figures out how to avoid answering. What kind of life is Rune living that he has so much to conceal but so little practice concealing it?

Raider wrestles two fitted sheets into submission before the reply buzzes into his phone.

Rune: Maybe you shouldn’t get a cat.

Rune: I don’t know how I feel about someone else getting to sit on your lap.

Raider nearly drops his phone. His heart thuds louder than the operatic aria currently blasting. Every nerve in his body buzzes alive, and he can’t even care that Rune is blatantly changing the subject. Because Raider’s every drop of immortal blood is extremely interested in this new topic.

Rune: Sorry, was that too much?

Rune: That was probably too much. I wish I was better at this.

Raider: You’re doing just fine, cutie. I know one way you could improve, though.

Raider: Let me see if your ass is as cute as the rest of you.

Rune starts typing. Then stops typing. Starts and stops several times before a deliciously long pause. Then the photo arrives, and Raider’s fingers are too clumsy to type a reply.

He sits heavily on his bed, right on a bunch of clean towels, and taps the music off. As silence crashes over him, he calls Rune’s unknown number.

CHAPTER FIVE

Tinny music blares shockingly loud in Rune’s hushed bedroom. He fumbles with the phone—is it broken? Did he click a cat video on accident? His hand slips, and the music stops. Call declined.

So, not broken. That was a phone call, and Rune just refused it.

“No,” Rune whispers. “No, no—ah!”

The music blares again. This time Rune keeps his wits enough to read the words on the screen. Call from Raider. Holding his breath in concentration, Rune accepts the call. The music stops.

Rune puts the phone to his ear. He should probably say something, but his throat is too tight, his heart too unsteady. He doesn’t know what to say.

Then a smooth voice wraps around him like a warm sweater. “You there, cutie?”

Rune sits on the edge of his bed, hugging himself through his baggy sweatshirt. He’s pulled his sweatpants back up, too, but feels somehow even more exposed than he did taking that photo.

The photo is nothing special. If anything, it’s even worse than Rune’s other photos—he had to twist so awkwardly in front of the mirror. Rune has sent lots of photos to Raider over the past few weeks. Breakfasts and books and his favorite fluffy socks, and so many photos of his face, his hands, even his feet, whenever Raider asks for one.

Raider seems so delighted by every small piece Rune can surrender of himself. Every photo and word and little smiling emoji. Rune thrives on the praise. Raider makes him forget how terrible he must be, to be locked away like this.

“I’m here,” Rune answers. He’s always here, so that’s not important. What’s important is this: “You’re talking to me.”

Weeks of texting, and they haven’t spoken out loud until now. Rune knows it’s been weeks because he’s kept track of time like never before. He figured out how to set his phone to match the time zone listed in Raider’s H2H profile. Then he changed all the other appliances to match. Rune has no idea what color the sky is above his prison, but he knows today is February 7, and it’s 11 p.m. for Raider now. Most nights, that would mean one to three more hours before Raider fell asleep.

Rune has no idea what the hour means when Raider is on the other end of this phone call. When Raider’s soft breath whispers against Rune’s ear.

“Is calling you okay?” Raider asks. “Gonna be honest, I really want it to be okay.”

“It’s okay,” Rune says quickly. But that’s insufficient. “I want to hear your voice, more than I can describe.”

Raider’s voice grows even warmer. “That’s good, cutie. Where are you right now? Are you alone?”

Rune’s always alone—but for once, that doesn’t seem like a bad thing. “I’m alone. I’m sitting on my bed.”

“Yeah? So am I.” There’s a faint noise, a mattress settling. “I’m sitting in bed thinking about that photo you just sent.”

Rune’s breath hitches. “What about it?”

That warmth in Raider’s voice must be a smile. “My hopes weren’t high enough. You’ve got the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen.”

Rune has never given much thought to his ass until now. He sometimes touches himself, of course—he’s been alone in his chamber for possibly centuries, and he has to keep himself occupied somehow. But this is the first time Rune has cared whether or not his ass was pretty.

“How many have you seen?” Rune asks, curiously. Does he excel in a field of hundreds, or just a few?

“Why?” Raider asks, suddenly sly. “Are you jealous?”

Oh. Rune wasn’t jealous until Raider asked.

Maybe Rune is jealous, if jealousy is the sensation of roots digging between his ribs. The thin, painful blades of yearning. Raider has traveled the world. He’s seen so many sights and met so many people. Rune doesn’t resent Raider’s freedom, but gods, he wishes he could see the sky again.

Quietly, Rune presses his hand above his lip. He muffles his own stinging breath. The sob doesn’t leave his throat.

Thankfully, Raider takes his silence for bashfulness. “You know I’m not just here for your ass, right? I like talking to you. I’ve never liked talking to someone this much.”

Raider isn’t here at all. But right now, Rune can almost feel the warm breath against his neck. The sweet, heavy arm around his waist. The imagined sensation pulls Rune from his despair with terrifying ease.

“I haven’t either,” Rune says quietly, then shakes himself from his wistful melancholy. “It’s okay if you’re just here for my ass. At least, it’s okay now that you’ve confirmed it’s a good one.”

“It’s perfect,” Raider purrs over the phone. “I was going to spend all night jerking off to it. But I’d rather jerk you off instead.”

The chamber brightens and darkens at once, Rune’s vision narrowing. His sweatshirt is too warm, too itchy. He desperately wants what Raider offers. “I don’t think my phone has that function.”

Raider’s laugh is sinful. “You’d think Heart2Heart would add a remote hand-job function. But I was thinking old-school phone sex. I’ll tell you how to touch yourself. You’ll give me all sorts of pretty gasps and moans. How does that sound?”

Oh, gods. When he can breathe again, Rune answers, “Yes. That sounds. Yes.”

“Good boy,” Raider says, which never fails to drive Rune mad, even though Rune is surely far older than Raider. “Are you still wearing that sweatshirt from the photo?”

“Yes.” Rune swallows. “I put my sweatpants back on too.”

“Okay, take the sweatshirt off, but leave the sweatpants on.” Raider shifts across the line. “Then get comfortable.”

Rune has to set the phone down to take his sweatshirt off. Grabbing it again is such a relief—but he hesitates before putting it back to his ear.

Raider likes photos of him, and Rune likes how Raider responds to photos of him. So Rune settles back against his soft white pillows and tentatively switches apps. The call stays on as Rune snaps a quick photo—this one is much easier than the ass shot. He just holds the phone at arm’s length above him, catching everything down to the waistband of his tented sweatpants. He sends it, then puts the phone back to his ear in time to hear the ding on the other end.

“You there?” Raider’s voice sounds slightly different. A little more distant.

“Check your messages,” Rune says.

There’s a pause. Then low, delicious swearing. “You’re getting too damn good at this,” Raider accuses, but he doesn’t sound mad at all. “Fuck. Okay, put me on speaker.”

Rune hesitates. He could figure out how to do that, probably. But he doesn’t want to. “I feel closer to you like this, holding you to my ear.”

“Fuck,” Raider says again. There’s a pause, then his voice changes back. The tinny distance is gone. “I’m holding you, too, okay? Now, touch your stomach, right below your belly button.”

Every touch is novel. Astounding. Rune has masturbated plenty before. It’s as good a way as any to pass the time. More interesting than staring at the wall. Less interesting than the season finale of Vampire Housewives.

This is nothing like masturbation. Sure, the actions are the same. Raider talks Rune through tugging his nipples. Caressing his throat. Sucking his fingers—they do that for a long time, because whenever Rune makes a particularly wet noise, Raider groans and loses his concentration.

Then stroking Rune’s nipples again, this time his fingers wet with his own spit and his every nerve singing with Raider’s rough voice.

“You’re so hard for me, aren’t you?” Raider says. “Touch your gorgeous dick through your sweatpants. Just your fingertips.”

Rune gasps and arches into his own touch. Fuck. This has never felt so good. “Are you touching yourself too?” Rune manages to ask, because it’s suddenly very important. Rune can’t be the only one experiencing this. He needs Raider to feel even half as good as he does.

“I’m doing exactly what you’re doing,” Raider says, his voice unsteady. “Trying not to come with every sound out of your pretty little mouth. Gods, yes. Just like that.”

Rune whimpers and writhes against his sheets.

Raider groans. “Fuck. I’m close. Stroke yourself through your pants. Slowly, gorgeous.”

That’s all Rune can take. He doesn’t even manage to reach beneath his waistband, and his own palm is an afterthought in the blaze of Raider’s voice. Desperation shatters through him, and Rune comes with a strangled cry.

Raider echoes him with a groan. “Fuck, Rune, did you just come?”

“Yeah,” Rune breathes.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. I need another minute—talk to me?”

Rune falls back against the bed, every inch of skin too sensitive. His cock softens slowly. “I don’t know what to say, but I’ll try. You made me feel so good.” Once again, Rune’s words are rusty. Inadequate. “I wish I could make you feel that good too.”

“You’re doing a damn good job.” Raider’s voice is tight and rough and so present around Rune. “You sound so fucking sweet.”

The praise is so warm and overwhelming, the edges of Rune’s vision shimmer. “I like when you say things like that,” Rune confesses softly. “I want to be good.”

Raider answers with a quiet sound. A beat of silence. Then a gasp. The mattress creaks.

“Did you come?” Rune’s own pulse pounds harder, his cock stirring at the thought. Next time he’ll ask Raider for pictures. He’s so greedy for more.

Greedy enough to hope for a next time.

“Yeah, I came.” Raider sounds content. Maybe even smug. “I could listen to your voice all night, sweet thing. You sound even better than I thought you would, and my expectations were pretty fucking high.”

Rune curls up, clutching the phone to his ear, as Raider rattles off more praise. Each sweet word sinks into Rune’s soul, touching him on a deeper, more primal level than anything else they’ve done tonight.

Until Raider pauses for breath. “Hey, Rune?”

“Yes?”

“I want to do this again,” Raider says, which makes Rune’s heart soar. “Can I see you in person?”

Rune freezes, then shatters. You can’t, he tries to say, but his throat chokes on it. I can’t.

He hangs up.

CHAPTER SIX

The silence brings Raider back into reality—sprawled bonelessly on his bed, jeans around his thighs. His pile of clean laundry isn’t clean anymore. Sweat dampens his brow. Raider’s mind is still so muddled that he probably hung up on accident.

Except when Raider calls back, Rune hangs up without answering. And Raider replays everything he just said.

Can I see you in person?

Fuck.

Regret shreds Raider’s postcoital wishful thinking. Hiking his jeans back up, he jumps out of bed to uselessly pace his bedroom. His heart races as he calls again.

This time, the call rings out, neither answered nor declined, for five minutes before falling silent. Not a good sign. But it’s better than an immediate rejection, and Raider seizes onto his pathetic, desperate hope to call a third time.

Rune rejects it on the third ring.

Raider flings his phone onto the bed before he does something stupid like call a fourth time. Dragging his clean hand over his face, he mutters, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” over and over.

Rune had one boundary. One very clearly defined boundary. And Raider had to fucking push it, right after Rune offered up the best phone sex of Raider’s life.

Quite possibly the best sex of Raider’s life, period.

Rune sounded even better than Raider imagined. He responded so beautifully to Raider’s every word, and Raider is a greedy man. He wants so much more. He wants to sink his fingers into Rune’s tight little ass. Shove all those baggy shirts and sweaters up his chest, explore every perfect inch of him.

Raider wants to bury his face in Rune’s hair and tell him how perfect he is, over and over. He wants to talk to Rune for long enough, tell Rune enough of himself, that someday Rune feels safe to talk about himself in return.

But Raider’s not selfish enough to push if Rune doesn’t want that too. Maybe Cupid was wrong, and Raider isn’t Rune’s perfect match. Even if Raider’s pretty sure Rune is his.

Taking a deep breath, Raider buttons his jeans. In the bathroom, he washes his hands and face. The cold water shakes his thoughts back in order. He stares into his immortal-gold eyes, then returns to his phone.

Praying Rune hasn’t blocked him, Raider sends a text message.

Raider: I’m sorry for asking to see you in person. I wasn’t thinking, and there’s no excuse. You’ve been totally clear, and I fucked up. I was calling to apologize and make sure you’re okay.

Raider: You’re such a sweet, clever, special person. You deserve to have exactly what you want. I’d love to be part of that, in whatever capacity you might let me.

Raider: Totally understand if you don’t want to talk tonight. Or ever. So I’ll let you be after this. I’ll message you again tomorrow night, but feel free to text or call whenever you want. I’ll be here.

When Raider lowers his phone, his room is emptier. Everything was refurbished according to his tastes, right before he moved in. He’s spent the better part of the past year setting up this home and shop as a new homebase. A project he believes in, something a little more stable and a lot more ethical than the treasure hunting gig.

Suddenly, Raider can’t see himself still living here a year from now. Five years from now. He won’t be able to stand the silence. Six more months, tops, and he’ll be ditching everything to race around the world again. Chasing something he’s never found in all his perilous adventures. A sense of purpose. A sense of self.

Raider scrubs his hand over his face. Fuck, it’s way too late at night to rethink his entire life. Time for bed, if he can fall asleep. “You’ve only known him for a few weeks,” Raider tells himself. “You haven’t even met in person.”

He’s halfway to the bathroom for a sad, cold shower when his phone buzzes.

Skidding across the floor, Raider stumbles over his laundry basket in his race to the bed. He scrambles for the phone and answers before realizing it isn’t a voice call.

A pair of flickering dark eyes fill the screen. They blink, then retreat, as Rune holds his phone far away enough that Raider can see more of him.

Dark hair loose over his bare shoulders, hunched in front of a bare gray wall. Even in the dim lighting, Rune is even more captivating in motion than in still photos.

Something burns deep in Rune’s eyes. Like he isn’t human.

“Hi,” Raider says stupidly, then sits on the floor. He leans back against the bed, cradling Rune’s image in his hands. “Are you okay?”

Rune’s shoulders rise with a deep breath. “No, I’m not okay. But that isn’t your fault.”

“I pushed. I forgot, and that’s my fault.”

Rune shakes his head. He’s so small and pitiful, Raider aches to reach through the screen and brush his hair behind his ear. “I want to meet you. I want it so badly, Raider. But I can’t.” The screen jostles as Rune covers his mouth with one hand. In a small voice through his fingers, he says, “I’m trapped here.”

Protective anger flares. Raider bites it back and says, as soothingly as he can through gritted teeth, “What do you mean, Rune? You can tell me anything.”

Rune takes another deep breath and starts talking.

Raider struggles to keep up. Rune’s story is rambling, fragmented. He’s clearly never relayed it to another person before—but the shattered pieces are razor-sharp. Raider’s worried anger only rises with each new detail.

That’s why Rune’s photos always looked off. His prison has no windows.

According to Rune, he’s a wicked demon. Unknown people led him into this empty chamber and sealed him inside. He doesn’t know how long he was alone in the darkness before the light appeared. A single lantern hanging from the wall. But over the years, more items appeared. Clothing. Furniture. A full-length mirror was Rune’s first true prize—a magic mirror that gave him glimpses of the outside world. He could even hear voices through it, but nobody could hear him.

Books. Paint. Items disappeared too. A clock, except Rune shattered the clock before it could disappear, because each tick hurt too much. One day, a television appeared in the parlor, and some of the pictures were the glimpses Rune was used to, but some were black and white and silent.

Raider has plenty of questions by the time Rune’s voice fades, but he’s certain of two things.

One, Rune isn’t a demon. Raider’s dealt with demons before. Rune is way better adjusted than any human would be in similar circumstances, but he’s not a demon.

Two, this is why Cupid matched them. Raider can’t resist one last treasure hunt.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Raider asks.

Drained by the story, Rune slumps against the wall. “I’m bad. I’m selfish. I can’t leave, but I thought I could at least… I just wanted to talk to someone. And once I met you, I wanted you to like me.”

“I do like you,” Raider says. “A lot. But even if I didn’t want to fuck you senseless, I would still help you.”

Rune pauses. His fiery dark gaze stills. “What do you mean?”

Raider grins. “Tell me everything you know, cutie. I’m breaking you out.”

At seven in the morning—after three hours of talking and four hours of sleep—Raider rolls out of bed. Rune says there’s no rush. He’s been trapped so long, what’s another day? Another month? Another year?

But Raider can’t stand the thought of Rune being trapped for a second longer than necessary. So really, Val should be grateful Raider waits until seven to call.

“You’re calling me at fuckface o’clock in the morning because you want me on a gig?” Val demands, entirely ungrateful.

“It’s the last time, I swear,” Raider says, plugging in his coffee maker.

“You said last time was the last time!” Val groans. “Ugh. Whatever. I have some free time. What are we digging up now?”

Raider grins. “My boyfriend.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

One week later, Rune still can’t believe Raider’s promise. He shouldn’t believe him. But Rune wants to, with every fiber of his soul. Even the agony of hope is better than the lack of it.

If Raider is to be believed, he and his sister Val are currently less than a hundred feet away, inspecting the outside of Rune’s prison. The idea of that proximity is overwhelming, whether it’s true or not.

“How’re you doing there?” Val asks over the line.

Rune’s phone sits on his kitchen table, right where he first found it. He has it on speaker so he can pace as he talks. He’s barely spent a moment without someone on the phone for the past week, except when both Raider and Val had to sleep. Raider even bought extra phones, so he could talk on one while the rest charged.

That’s something Rune hadn’t even considered. His phone never loses battery. Raider was very interested in that detail—another of his thousand questions about every item and event in Rune’s chamber. The fact that Rune’s belongings manifest without any intentional spell or ritual seems particularly important, as is the mechanism of disappearance.

“Do they disappear while you’re not paying attention, or because you’re not paying attention?” Raider asked at one point. He was more intrigued than frustrated when Rune couldn’t answer. “Do they appear because you need those specific items in particular?”

“I don’t see how,” Rune had said. “I didn’t know televisions existed when mine appeared. I don’t know how I knew it was called a television. I’ve always just wanted to connect with the world, even if I could never escape.”

“Until now,” Raider said quickly. “Trust me, pretty boy. You’re getting the fuck out of there.”

Raider’s so sweet. He even asked to make sure the attention wasn’t overwhelming. But Rune wants to be overwhelmed. He’s afraid of what will happen if he closes his eyes. Whether due to the constant attention or something else, Rune hasn’t lost any time since he met Raider. He remembers everything, and even more importantly, Raider remembers him. No matter what happens today, Raider will continue through the centuries with Rune’s voice in his heart. If that’s the only freedom Rune gets, that will be enough.

Now, Rune answers, “I’m still fine. Have you figured out what spell they used?”

Val sighs. “Kinda sorta. It would help if we knew exactly what cult the casters were from.”

“I’m sorry I can’t remember more.”

“Not your fault, honey.” Val raises her voice. “Maybe if Raider read some fucking books, ever, we’d have made some progress.”

Raider’s cheerful “Fuck you!” rings out from the distance. Audible only over the phone, not through the walls. Even though he’s right there.

Still, the sound of Raider’s voice puts a silly grin on Rune’s face. He twists his fingers in the hem of his shirt. Raider told him to get properly dressed—which means jeans and socks along with his tie-dye shirt. Rune’s last pair of shoes disappeared around five years ago, possibly because he never wore them. So, Raider has shoes waiting for him in their camper.

Rune’s head spins with how much he’s learned about his own prison in the past week. Apparently, he lives underneath a valley that locals say is haunted, right next to a popular campground. There’s a lake to fish in. Maybe it’s the lake Rune used to see in his mirror.

Winter is fading outside, and everything is ready to bloom.

Rune’s prison is a hexagonal structure, riddled with ritual carvings, in the center of a larger network of catacombs. Val estimates that the carvings are two hundred years old. Raider gave Rune a virtual tour on video call, and Rune couldn’t interpret anything. The timing makes sense with an obscure, superstitious cult that used to operate in the area, according to Raider and Val.

Raider sounds closer when he speaks again. “Hey, cutie, I’m going to talk to Val alone for a second. Hang tight, and I’ll call you back in ten minutes, okay?”

“Is something wrong?” Rune asks, nervous.

“I just can’t concentrate when I’m listening to your sweet voice,” Raider answers smoothly. “You’re too deliciously distracting.”

Val groans loudly as the praise heats through Rune’s soul. It soothes him, sparkling at the edge of his vision. Rune is perfectly content when Raider hangs up the call.

Maybe that’s what’s been keeping Rune awake and aware since he met Raider. That glorious praise makes Rune feel so alive. So real. Like he exists more completely when Raider tells him how good he is.

Closing his eyes, Rune basks in the praise until Raider calls back—a video call this time.

“Hi, gorgeous.” Raider’s golden eyes gleam. “I’ve figured out how to get you out, but I’m going to need your help.”

“Okay,” Rune agrees, though he doesn’t understand.

Raider’s grin widens, warming away Rune’s doubts. “Trust me, beautiful. I’ve done this before. There are two parts to this spell. I can deactivate the outer part, but you need to open the door.”

Rune’s brow furrows. Ice crackles inside him. “There isn’t a door.” The phone trembles before Rune composes himself. “I’ve looked for a door. I would have found it.”

Raider just nods, reassuring and steady. “It won’t appear until I’ve taken care of the outside spell. But I need to figure out where it will be. Can you give me another tour of the place?”

Rune nods.

“Good boy,” Raider says.

A flush heats Rune’s face as he flips the camera to show the rest of the room. At Raider’s directions, Rune circles the chamber. Hopefully Raider is getting what he needs, because Rune loses himself in the strangest reverie.

He hates these gray stone walls—but they’re familiar. He hates and loves the plush rugs and smooth wooden floors. His prison and shelter for the past two hundred years, if Val is to be believed about the carvings.

“Raider,” Rune says as he scans the camera over the tiny, mismatched kitchen. “Are you sure I’m not a demon?”

“One hundred percent.”

“What if I’m something else bad?” Rune swallows down a lump in his throat. “What if it’s better for me to be here?”

Raider’s certainty doesn’t falter. “Doesn’t matter. I want you out, so I’m getting you out. Besides, I already know exactly what you are—my perfect match.”

Rune laughs despite everything. “That’s all right, then.”

“There,” Raider says suddenly.

Rune pauses in his parlor. “What?”

“The mirror on the wall. The door is behind that.”

“Oh,” Rune whispers. “Of course.”

The mirror used to show him pictures, before the newly invented television arrived. Raider corroborated enough of Rune’s hazy memories that some of those images must have been true glimpses of the outside world. Rune has no idea how it works, but he’s grateful for the mirror’s help. Now it hides one last gift.

“The configuration must be weaker there,” Raider says.

Excitement shivers through Rune. “Do I move the mirror?”

“Not yet. Val, what side is he on?”

Val has something set up to track the movements of Rune’s phone. “North side!” she calls out.

“Okay, wait for me, cutie.” Raider holds the phone closer, his golden eyes lighting up. Like being closer to Rune brightens him. “You’re so wonderful, you know that, right? You’re so good and patient.”

Rune squirms with the praise, pulse quickening. As if each word is a finger stroking the back of his neck. “I’m not that patient.”

Raider grins. “Impatient is even better. Trust me, I can’t fucking wait to get my hands on you. You’re so perfect. You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Raider…” Rune starts, but can’t think of anything else to say. Gods, Raider has to know what he’s doing to Rune. He never lays the praise on so thick—Rune can hardly concentrate through the barrage of sweet words.

“Good boy,” Raider adds, which is unfairly distracting. “Okay, I’m going to hang up, then voice call. I need my hands free for this.”

When Raider calls back, Rune presses the phone to his ear.

“Are you ready?” Raider asks.

“Please,” Rune whispers.

From a distance, Val calls out, “I’m starting.”

A chime echoes through the connection. A hiss like a sudden flame. The scattering of small stones.

“Okay!” Val says.

Raider takes a deep breath, right in Rune’s ear. “All right, cutie, you’ve been so fucking brave. The door’s going to appear behind the mirror. You won’t see it at first, but the cracks will start to glow. They’ll be orange like the light in your beautiful eyes. Once you see the outline, all you have to do is push.”

Rune floats on the high of every sweet word. “I need both hands, so I’m... I’m hanging up now.”

“That’s perfect,” Raider says. “Just open the door, and I’m waiting for you. You’ve been so good waiting for me. You’ve got this.”

With a shaky exhale, Rune hangs up. Slips the phone into his back pocket. Raider’s words still circle, cushioning Rune’s every move. Grateful joy floods his chest, chasing away every fear and doubt.

Raider is waiting for him. Raider says he’s good.

This will be okay. This will work.

Rune grips the edge of the mirror. It separates easily from the stone wall. The heavy wooden frame bites into his fingers, and he has to concentrate to settle it on the floor.

There’s a patch of darker stone where the mirror once hung. As Rune watches, the darkness flickers. Spreads. Warm, orange light slices through the solid stone. A thin outline twice as wide as Rune and half again as tall.

A door. Just like Raider described.

The stone is coarse and dusty beneath Rune’s palm. The slightest pressure pushes the door outward—and Rune is free.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Raider’s pressed so close to the stone wall, he has to step back when the door moves. Nerves strung tight, praying this will work, he stumbles back to give Rune space.

Because that’s Rune, divinely beautiful and achingly real, framed with light and stone. He’s smaller than Raider imagined. Maybe five foot seven at the most, his frame swamped in the purple tie-dye shirt. His face is open and soft with nervous awe, and so much trust Raider isn’t sure he deserves.

“Well, fuck,” Val says, voice echoing in the catacombs. “It fucking worked.”

“You did it, Rune,” Raider says, and holds out his hand.

Rune steps forward slowly, eyes darting everywhere, and touches Raider’s palm. Like a bird landing on an unfamiliar branch—and balancing perfectly. If Val’s research is correct, this is the first time Rune has touched anyone in two hundred years.

Her research probably is correct, because she’s been on a winning “I told you so” streak all month.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, cutie,” Raider says, with an unstoppable grin. He’s never cared much about holidays before, but this is definitely his new favorite. “How’s this for a date?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Rune repeats softly. His voice is strange, the accent hard to place, but not as strange as it should be given his long captivity. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” Raider’s palm heats beneath the slight touch. He wants so much more, but he’ll go as slowly as he needs to. And he thinks he can help Rune out a bit. “You’re doing so good, cutie.”

Sure enough, the praise brings Rune to motion again. His eyes glitter at the simple words, which lends weight to Raider’s current working theory about Rune’s origins.

It’s also why Raider’s scheme worked just now.

“I never knew there was a door there,” Rune says. “Could I have found it before?”

“There wasn’t a door,” Raider admits.

Rune freezes. “What?”

Raider reaches out slowly. When he pushes Rune’s hair back just like he’s been yearning to, Rune shivers at the touch. Fuck, Raider has centuries to make up for.

“Your powers get stronger when I praise you,” Raider says. “You can feel that, can’t you, gorgeous? How wonderful and strong you are?”

Rune shivers and sways closer with his words.

Raider gently squeezes Rune’s hand. “The door appeared because I told you it would, and you believed me.” Raider crooks a grin. “Sorry for lying to you.”

Rune blinks. “You didn’t lie, though. It worked. Even if it only worked because I believed you.”

Still probably counts as a lie, but Rune not being picky about the truth is a good thing. The door bullshit was a gamble after Raider realized they wouldn’t be able to break the enclosure spell. Not without bringing this entire mountain range down, at least. Raider would absolutely do that for Rune, no question. He’d just need some intense prep work to prevent casualties, environmental damage, and governmental interference.

Going to prison doesn’t fit Raider’s five-year business plan.

So, Raider and Val handled it the way they always handle tough jobs. They winged it. Val played generic ritual sounds from her phone, Raider praised the hell out of Rune to juice up his power, and Rune trusted Raider enough to believe the door would appear.

Val steps closer, but not too close. “Hi, Rune. Nice to meet you face to face. Thanks for keeping my brother from becoming a spinster.”

Rune looks at her, dazed. “You’re here too. Hello.”

“Do you feel dizzy?” Raider asks. “Sick? Can you walk okay?”

“I’m overwhelmed, but I’m not sick or hurt.” Rune’s gaze returns to Raider, as if he’s the most interesting thing in the entire dusty chamber. “You’re here,” Rune says again, quieter this time. “Can I touch you?”

Raider leans forward.

“Okay!” Val interrupts. “You two get out of here while I redo the safety charms.”

“You’re the best, sis.” Raider nods to the open door. “Rune, do you need anything from inside?”

Rune doesn’t even look back. “Nothing. Take me away, please.”

Raider squeezes his hand and leads him from the catacombs. Stone tunnels give way to the bright, open sky. A breeze dances through the budding trees, and a narrow dirt path winds toward the campgrounds. The evergreen valley is gorgeous, even before spring fully blooms, but Rune’s upturned face is more gorgeous than all the rest.

“I forgot how large the world was,” Rune murmurs, then stops suddenly. “I think I should sit down.”

They sit right there on the dirt path, cross-legged and facing each other. It’s awkward, Rune clinging to Raider’s hand the entire time. But Raider won’t let go until Rune does.

Holding Rune feels right. Like Rune is the purpose Raider has been missing.

“We can sit here as long as you like,” Raider says. “My camper’s parked half a mile away, so we can go there when you’re ready. Or just stay outside. I don’t know if you’ll want to be outside all the time, or if you’ll want some enclosed space while you adjust.”

The breeze ruffles Rune’s hair. “I don’t know either. There’s so much of everything.”

“You can go wherever you want, whenever you want. Just say the word.” Raider grins. “I’ll admit, what I want to do is take you home. Show you my shop. Take care of you, while you get used to this gigantic world.”

“I’d like that.” Rune gives a tiny grin in return. “Thank you. For that, and everything.”

“I’d say any time, but nobody is ever locking you up again.” Raider takes Rune’s other hand, moving slowly, except Rune grabs him back so quickly.

Rune tilts his head. “You seem so sure I’m not an evil demon. What do you think I am?”

Rune’s fiery eyes aren’t human, but they aren’t demonic either. Humans have always feared what they don’t understand, especially when they find those mysteries living among them. Not a safe and distant mirage they can define according to their own laws.

“I think you’re a god, cutie.” Raider leans forward. His cheek presses against Rune’s, and Raider murmurs his next words right into Rune’s ear. “And I’m looking forward to worshipping you.”

CHAPTER NINE

Rune doesn’t miss the catacombs. According to Val, all the items inside the chamber disappeared or crumbled into disrepair an hour after Rune left. They were either called into being or kept whole by Rune’s subconscious magic.

Val was annoyed because she wanted to check for valuables, but Rune doesn’t mind. His clothes and phone stayed intact since they were with him. He doesn’t care about the jeans or socks, and Raider has bought him a ridiculous number of colorful T-shirts in case the tie-dye one vanishes. Rune just makes sure to keep his phone nearby so it doesn’t disappear.

It was his first true door to the rest of the world, summoned by the sheer power of Rune’s yearning—with a little extra magic from Cupid.

Rune has spent the past few months living with Raider above Artifacts, Alchemy, Etc. Freedom is easier some days than others. Rune wants to explore the world, but it’s so vast. Some days, the open sky above is too scary.

Yesterday, Rune left during the middle of Raider’s workday to visit a dog park with Val. That was fun. Rune likes talking with Val—she watches more television than Raider does. It turns out some of the shows Rune used to watch on his magic television were real, so they have things to talk about. Rune also likes Val’s vampire girlfriends, part of his slowly growing circle of real people to talk to.

Today, Rune is paying for yesterday’s dog park adventure with a case of nerves. He doesn’t intend to leave the shop until he can walk out the door without shaking again.

That’s fine. As Raider says, there’s no rush. They have all the time in the world. Rune is a lot more excited about living forever now that he’s actually living, instead of just existing. He hasn’t lost a single moment since Raider first called him “cutie.”

Besides, Rune likes being in the shop with Raider. Workdays are fun because Raider so clearly thrives on this. Removing curses. Finding new homes for old objects. Identifying family heirlooms, restoring family stories for the current generation.

But Rune especially loves this moment at the end of the day, when Raider’s locking up. Rune leans on the counter as Raider seals an alarm talisman over the door. The beaded curtain rattles—a new addition, because Val suggested it and Rune thought it looked super interesting. And Raider grumbled but ordered it anyway.

Raider makes his usual circuit of the shop. Locking up the register. Taking a few specific artifacts to the basement. That takes him out of Rune’s sight for a few minutes, but Rune isn’t anxious about that anymore. Raider will return, and once everything else is in its place, Raider’s attention is just for Rune.

“All right, one more relic to put away,” Raider teases.

Rune wrinkles his nose. “Fuck you.”

Raider laughs, because he always laughs when Rune swears—which is why Rune does it. Then Raider scoops Rune up onto the counter, and kisses Rune until they’re both dazed with it.

Because Raider doesn’t just worship with words. Every kiss, every slide of strong hands from waist to thighs, every breath whispering against Rune’s throat, is an act of devotion.

Raider slides a hand under Rune’s rainbow cat shirt. “What were you reading earlier?”

Rune winds his arms around Raider’s shoulders, savoring the warm reality of his body. “A theology book. It made me wonder... What do you think I’m the god of?”

He doesn’t expect Raider to have an answer—but Raider grins and crowds closer between Rune’s thighs. “That’s easy, cutie. You’re the god of whatever you want to be.”

“Whatever I want,” Rune repeats. The phrase turns in his head, the freedom its own kind of magic.

Raider traces ticklish lines along Rune’s ribs. “You could be the god of small businesses. The god of reality TV. The god of tie-dye. The god of looking so fucking cute bent over this counter as I⁠—”

“Doors,” Rune interrupts. “I like doors.”

Raider’s eyes soften. “That’s perfect. As long as I still get to bend you over this counter.”

Grinning, Rune pulls Raider in for another kiss. “I expect nothing less from my favorite disciple.”

Sometimes freedom is the open sky. Sometimes it’s this—a moment of love with his perfect match.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

TAVIA LARK

Tavia Lark writes m/m fantasy romance about sad magic boys falling in love. Her favorite romance tropes include hurt/comfort, sharing a bed, and enemies to lovers. She writes from a sunny little apartment with the constant “help” of her fluffy cat. He just really likes typing, okay.

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LOVE UNDER THE SEA

TAYLOR RYLAN

CHAPTER ONE

SILVER

I wasn’t sure why I put up with my brothers. They drove me crazy on a good day, but on bad days? It wasn’t uncommon for me to want to unalive them. Now was no exception. I’d had a particularly crummy day with more than one complaint from a difficult client. No matter what we did to accommodate them, they couldn’t seem to be satisfied. I was past regretting taking them on as clients and was well on my way to breaking our contract with them, consequences be damned.

But all of that aside, that didn’t explain the odd email I just received. At first, I thought it was spam, but when I looked up the company and email it came from, nope. Completely legit. I still couldn’t believe what I was reading.

Ready to meet the love of your life this Valentine’s Day? Put your trust in Cupid!

You know that here at Heart2Heart, we’ve helped thousands of lonely hearts find their perfect match, mate, and bond over the last five years.

Now, your romantic future is about to get even brighter thanks to the cheeky cherub themself, Cupid. Known worldwide as the number one matchmaker, we’re thrilled to partner with them for this special Valentine’s Day event in which they’ll use H2H’s enormous database to find the magical match that’s just right for you.

Ready to embrace your romantic destiny? Put your trust in Cupid and sign up today.

I honestly wouldn’t really give that email a second thought if not for the follow-up one.

Dear Silver,

Welcome to Heart2Heart! We here at Heart2Heart are so pleased you’ve taken the first step in finding your perfect magical match! After putting your supplied information into our database, we’ve found who we believe to be your special someone. Per your wishes, your blind date has been set up, and the specifics can be found below.

Please do not hesitate to reach out to one of our helpful customer care specialists if you have any questions.

Thank you again for joining the thousands of lonely hearts we’ve helped find their perfect mate.

Sincerely,

The Heart2Heart Team

* * *

You have chosen “blind date” as your preferred meet-up option. Below are the specifics of your date:

Date name: Charlie

Date location: Whispering Pines Zoo

Date and Time: February 14th at 6:30

How to locate your date: Charlie has agreed to meet you in the Aquarium Restaurant for a romantic Valentine’s Day Dinner! Every year the zoo hosts a “dine under the sea” event in their under-aquarium restaurant. Your date will be wearing a pink dress shirt and a blue blazer with a pink rose on the lapel.

We wish the both of you luck and love.

Seriously, what was going on? I never signed up for a mate match. And I certainly wouldn’t have asked for a blind date. I was incredibly happy being single. I went out with my brothers when we all needed to burn off certain “energy,” but I most definitely did not sign up for any type of dating app. I didn’t do dates. Hookups and friends with benefits? That was more my style.

I heard laughter in the hallway and rolled my eyes at my brothers. I glanced back at the monitor, then listened to them carrying on in the hallway. Did one of them do this? I wouldn’t put it past any of those yahoos. Ma had been on all of us to finally settle down and give her some grandkids, and since they were of a similar mind as I was with regards to mates and kids…I could certainly see them as sacrificing me for their own benefit.

“Clay!” I called out to my next oldest brother. I would get to the bottom of this right now. There was no way I was going on any date. Especially not a blind date. I didn’t date. Ever. My gorilla didn’t seem to have any desire for a mate and children. I simply wasn’t interested.

Clay came around the corner, still laughing about whatever he and my brothers were carrying on about.

“What’s up, boss?”

I glared at my brother. He was only calling me boss because he knew it pissed me off. I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms in front of my chest. That wiped the smile off his face. He knew I was serious about something.

“Want to tell me which of you I need to unalive?”

Clay gave me a confused look. “What do you mean? We haven’t fought like that since we were teens and overly territorial when it came to our animals.”

I pointed at my monitor, and Clay came into the office to read it. I was able to see the array of emotions cross his face as he got further along in the two emails. They went from surprise to shock and then on to amusement. He was smirking when he finally met my gaze again.

“Which one of you idiots set me up?”

Clay snorted. “You think one of us was stupid enough to do that?” Clay stood up and shook his head. “Naw. We wouldn’t do that. But I’m sure you can figure out who would.” Clay started chuckling before he sauntered out of my office.

I didn’t believe him for even a moment that it wasn’t one of them that had done this. They were always doing things like this, especially when it impacted me specifically.

“Woo-hoo-hoo!” Slate, my youngest brother, said as he suddenly appeared in my doorway. He was the baby and by far the most annoying. He was definitely a momma’s boy, and if you ever said or did anything against him, you’d get it from Ma.

“Go away, Slate.”

“No way. This is too funny. Have you figured it out yet?”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest again and glared at my brother. “I know it was either one or several, if not all of you. If you don’t fess up, I’m going to make you all miserable for a very long time. It’s one thing to play a little joke; this here involves an innocent person, which is messed up on all levels.”

Slate’s smile wiped off his face immediately. “I didn’t do it, Silver. I swear. But you’re right, and I didn’t think about it that way.” Slate glanced down the hallway and then came in and closed the door. “I was at Ma and Dad’s last week. I saw it open on their computer. Dad noticed I saw it and mentioned how Ma was taking drastic measures to get her boys mated off.”

My gorilla was absolutely pissed at that thought. What was she thinking? “He didn’t stop her? He doesn’t see how absolutely wrong doing something like this is?”

Slate shrugged. “I don’t know, Silver. I only know that I saw the Heart2Heart website up on their computer. I was there to do some laundry, so I was hanging out for a little while. I happened to see it, and Dad just shook his head and told me her plans.”

That was so messed up. Completely and totally. Not only was Ma overstepping where I was concerned, but now she had gone and involved a completely innocent party. Now I had to figure out how to fix it.

I growled a little, and Slate held his hands out in front of him. As brothers, we were all fairly well matched when it came to the strength of our gorillas. But as the oldest, my brothers all defaulted to me as the unofficial “alpha.” Not that we really had a troop.

“Thanks, Slate,” I told my brother after taking a moment to calm myself. “Now I get to figure out how to tell this Charlie person that I am not his mate, nor do I want to be.”

Slate shrugged before leaning back against the wall next to the door. “You know, you could always go and have dinner with him. According to their site, they claim they have a huge database and are really good at matching mates that just haven’t met yet.” Slate stood up and snorted. “Since when have you ever turned down a free meal? And from what I understand, meeting your mate is unlike anything we’ve ever experienced before.”

I narrowed my eyes at my brother. He laughed as he hurried out of my office. I suddenly had a headache and rubbed the center of my forehead with my fingers. I would have to figure this out because it wasn’t fair to Charlie.

My email chimed again, and when I glanced at it, there was yet another email from Mr. Journey. I absolutely wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with him at the moment, so I simply closed my email, and after forwarding myself the things I would need to finish up this evening, I shut down my computer and left my office.

When I got to the end of the hallway that had our offices in it, my brothers, who had still been joking around and carrying on, all immediately went quiet. I couldn’t help but growl at them as I walked by. Slate gave me a sympathetic look, Clay smirked, and Flint and Mica suddenly found something on the table behind them interesting. Clay stepped forward, raised a hand, and I turned toward him, my eyes those of my silverback. When I snarled and he saw my canines, he held up both hands, and took several steps back. I absolutely wasn’t in the mood for any of them.

“Mica, you messed up with Mr. Journey again. Because I have to fix your crap again, you are now on babysitting duty next week,” I told my brother.

I heard a noise, and when I turned my glare to Mica, he quickly closed his mouth and nodded. The absolute last thing he ever wanted to do was babysit any of our clients. Then again, not many ever wanted to spend time with a client who was most likely a spoiled, entitled PITA.

I didn’t say anything to any of the others. I simply walked out the door and into the bright afternoon sun. I tossed my bag into the passenger’s seat and climbed in behind the steering wheel. My first thought was to go yell at Ma, but I knew it would truly be a waste of time and energy. She wouldn’t fix things, she wouldn’t be apologetic, nor would she even see what it was that she did wrong or why. I loved my parents. Dad was amazing, and he and Ma were mates, but at times, Dad tended to let Ma get away with things because he always looked at her and the things she did through rose-colored glasses.

No, I wouldn’t be stopping by my parents’ place anytime soon. I started the truck, and instead of going somewhere that I knew would get me nothing more than even more frustrated, I headed home. I could work in the quiet of my home office, enjoying not having to listen to my brothers going on with life without much care in the world while I continued to follow along behind them and clean up the messes they usually made.

My gorilla grumbled in my head. He was just as upset with our brothers as I was. Sure, I was the oldest, but at forty-two, I shouldn’t have to put up with their antics. I sighed out loud, realizing that the directions of my thoughts weren’t helping me to calm down in the least. If I didn’t calm myself, my gorilla would push out, and next thing, there would be an oversized silverback driving my truck through the streets. I wasn’t sure that would be an overly bad thing or not. Humans knew about us, and we lived, for the most part, in harmony together. But how would people react to a gorilla driving through the streets of Whispering Pines? Probably not well. Instead, it would probably be best if I did everything I could to calm myself. At least until I made it home, and then it wouldn’t really matter all that much.

CHAPTER TWO

CHARLIE

“Please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing. Really? Pink?”

I gave Samantha the stink-eye, as she called it. “Just the shirt,” I informed her. I added the pink-and-blue plaid bow tie and then reached for the blue blazer.

“Really, Charlie, you’d think that at twenty-nine, you would have better fashion sense.”

I ignored my sister—something I knew she absolutely hated. I carefully pulled on the blazer and situated it on my slender frame. As a koala shifter, I wasn’t nearly as muscular as some of the other shifters, but I wasn’t scrawny, and I knew I looked good in these pants. I pulled the back of the blazer up and glanced at my ass. Definitely on point.

“Charlie Brown, don’t you dare ignore me!”

I rolled my eyes. “What would you have me say, Sam? I have a blind date—you know this. You were the one that signed me up for this event.”

“That’s because you never put yourself out there. How could you not be interested in finding your mate?”

My irritation with my sister softened. Especially when she rubbed her rounded stomach. “Sam, just because you and Justin are immensely happy and are starting your family together, that doesn’t mean the rest of us have to do the same. And if you recall, every time I do put myself out there after a date or two, they always ghost me because they’re too embarrassed to be seen with me, and I refuse to hide.” Sam and Justin had found each other three years ago, and they hadn’t spent a day apart since. But that was how it sometimes worked with mates. And although Justin was human, he and Sam were most definitely mates. They’d not only claimed each other the shifter way but went through a human wedding ceremony.

“That’s because you haven’t met your mate. It’ll be different once you meet him.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t actually holding my breath. Sure, this Heart2Heart organization said they were great at matching fated mates, and this year, Cupid of all people would be doing the matching, but I still wasn’t holding my breath. I was going for the free meal.

It was true that I worked at the Whispering Pines Zoo. I was a zookeeper there. Specifically, I worked with…well, koalas, wombats, and kangaroos. Don’t ask me why. It’s just where they decided to put me. I didn’t mind though. It was a job, and I loved it.

“I’m not holding out hope that this person I’m meeting is actually my mate, sis. We both know that the chance of finding a fated mate is slim to none. That’s why our own father bonded with our mother.”

At the mention of our parents, Sam’s face fell. That hadn’t been my intent, but it felt as if it needed to be said. I was still young—not quite thirty yet. I had time to meet my mate, and I was happy without having children. I was going to spoil Sam and Justin’s little one, and then at the end of the day, I would send him or her home and enjoy staying up late and sleeping in the next morning. That was, if it wasn’t a work night. I had to get up before the sun if I had to work.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to upset you.” I moved over to the bed and sat down beside her.

“No, I understand,” she said. She reached for the rose on my lapel and fussed with it for a moment before she deemed it fixed. “I can’t help but want you happy. I’m so…it’s just that Justin is amazing. He’s everything.”

I smiled at my older sister. “I know he is for you, Sam. I get it. But the chances of whoever I’m about to meet actually being my mate and just as wonderful and amazing as Justin is for you are slim. I’m not holding my breath that he won’t end up being ashamed of being seen with me again. You know I hate being hidden, and I can’t seem to find someone who is happy to go out on dates with me and be an actual couple outside of the bedroom.”

I had dumped more men than I cared to admit because they would always introduce me to others as “a friend” and then spend the rest of the evening cutting it up with their buddies and hitting on girls in the bar or restaurant. I stopped dating almost two years ago because I just couldn’t take any more rejection like that.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I know you’re only doing this because I wouldn’t stop pushing. I promise that if this doesn’t work out for you, I’ll leave you alone about it.”

I nodded. I knew that would never happen, but I wasn’t going to call her out on it. Sam was due in a month, and I fully expected her to be completely enamored and busy with their little bundle for a good amount of time, but eventually, she would start in on me again. It was just how she was. Until Justin came along, we were all each other had since I was sixteen and she was twenty and our parents were killed in a small plane crash. Sam didn’t even think twice about leaving college and moving back home to take care of me while I finished high school.

We were lucky that our parents had planned for tragedy, and there was more than enough life insurance money to pay the bills while I finished high school and Sam went back to college. But during those two years, Sam had to be not only my sister but my stand-in parent. Sadly, she sometimes still went overboard when it came to certain areas. Mainly, me dating.

“All right. I think I’m ready,” I told Sam after checking myself in the mirror one last time. I honestly was nervous and hoped it didn’t show.

“You were right,” Sam said as she stood there and nodded. “About the pink. With the blue blazer and the blue-and-pink bow tie, it’s perfect.”

I smiled at her. “Thanks. I might normally live in khakis and a polo shirt for work, but I was assured this outfit matched and looked good.”

Sam narrowed her eyes. “By who?”

I blinked several times. “By the person who sold it to me at the department store.”

Sam opened her mouth to protest—I just knew it was going to be another argument—but I stopped her with a hand held up in front of her face.

“No. Don’t. You’d been so nice there at the end, and I’m not Justin. I’m not falling for the ‘you’re pregnant and can’t control your emotions.’ That’s an excuse to be bitchy. Nope, not today. I need to go.” I tilted my head. “Why are you here instead of with your own mate?”

Sam’s expression went from irritated to downright pissed off. “Because he’s working tonight. He’s been on evening shifts for a month. Don’t you follow our schedules at all?”

I shook my head and gave her a blank look. Why would I follow her or her mate’s schedules? I didn’t live with them, and if I was lucky, I saw them once or twice a month. They’d been stuck in the honeymoon phase of their mating since they had found each other.

“Go home. Order pizza or whatever is this week’s cravings, and enjoy your evening.”

“Fine. But call me as soon as you get home. I need to know all about how your date went. And don’t leave out any details.”

I shook my head. I absolutely wasn’t going to give my sister details on how my date did or didn’t go. It was honestly none of her business. I was already going on this date at her insistence. I didn’t owe her anything beyond this, as far as I was concerned.

I grabbed Sam’s arm and tugged her along with me through my little house. I loved my house. It was small, sure. It was what was considered a cottage and had one bedroom, a living room, and a kitchen with an eat-in dining room. There were actually one and a half bathrooms: one in the bedroom and then a half on the other side of the kitchen. I loved it, and it was all mine. It was cute and perfect for me. I was single and didn’t require more room; why would I need something bigger?

“You know, you used to be sweeter,” Sam said as we reached the front door. I grabbed my phone, wallet, and keys that were on the table there before I opened the door.

“And you used to not be so pushy. I can accept somewhat protective, but since you’ve mated with Justin, you’ve become downright unbearable at times.”

Sam gasped, acting offended. I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t believe me? Ask your mate.” Justin and I had discussed it more than once. It was probably true I should be nicer to my sister, but she had become too much since she and Justin mated. She felt that now that she was happy in mated bliss, everyone else needed to be just like them. Well, that wasn’t how life worked. Not everyone found true love and lived happily ever after.

I pulled the door shut behind us, locking it with the key, and turned and almost ran into Sam. “Do you really think I’m pushy?” she asked.

I thought for a fraction of a second about lying to her but couldn’t. “Yes, I do. You are happy. I get that. But what your life is isn’t what defines happiness for everyone else. You have to understand and accept that.” I honestly didn’t have time to stand here and have a deep conversation with my sister. She had already delayed me more than enough, so I simply walked away and slid into my car.

When I backed out of my driveway, Sam was walking to her car, which was parked on the street in front of my house. I loved my sister—don’t think I didn’t—but I was only going on this blind date because she insisted that I sign up. Never in my lifetime would I ever have considered doing this on my own. I wasn’t unhappy with the life I had. I enjoyed my job and had a lot of good friends, and of course, I had Sam and her mate Justin. But I knew that most likely, this was going to turn out the same as things always did. Whoever this Silver guy ended up being, he was going to be too embarrassed to be seen with me. That’s just how it seemed to work.

I made the drive to the zoo by memory, just as I did this morning for work and every other morning. It wasn’t far, and luckily for me, I had the perk of parking in the employee parking lot that wasn’t packed for the evening. After parking my car, I gave myself one last look in the mirror and took several deep breaths before getting out and heading toward the aquarium.

The dining under the sea event had been completely booked by the Heart2Heart company this year, and although I’d eaten at the restaurant many times over the years, I’d never had anything as fancy as they always had planned for this event. I found that I was nervous, and I couldn’t seem to get my mind to settle.

After swiping my badge to get in through the employees’ entrance, I slid it into my pocket and headed toward the aquarium. It was time to see if Cupid actually really knew what he was doing and if Silver was my mate. That would be amazing if the answers to those comments was yes, but I still wasn’t holding my breath.

CHAPTER THREE

SILVER

I might not want to go on this date, but I wasn’t a complete jerk. I wasn’t going to simply not show. Like my brother had said, I would at least get a free meal out of the entire situation, and who didn’t like free food? Besides, I needed to let Charlie know that there was a huge misunderstanding and that I wasn’t actually looking to date someone. Surely, he would understand, wouldn’t he?

I grumbled a bit about having to pay the ten-dollar parking fee just to go on this date, but once I was through the gate, I pulled into the parking lot and started looking for an empty spot. I found one, further away from the main entrance than I would have liked, but I wasn’t left with much of a choice. For a Tuesday evening, this place was a lot busier than I would have expected. I guess that was good for the zoo, but again, I wasn’t exactly a fan of zoos. I understood they did good things for wildlife, but still.

I found another line at the main entrance and grumbled under my breath again. I just wanted to find the aquarium, have my meal, and then explain to Charlie that we weren’t going to be dating, and we most definitely weren’t mates.

While standing in line to enter, I happened to notice a sign that mentioned the Heart2Heart event off to the left, and I quickly jumped out of the long line and into a much shorter one of only three people in front of me. When I arrived at the counter, I did my best to smile and be as friendly as possible.

“Ticket?”

“Ticket?” I asked.

“Yes. In the email correspondence, there was a ticket attached. You don’t have to have printed it out, but I need the code off of it.”

“Sorry. I didn’t see any attachments in my email,” I told her as I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my email. Thankfully, I had my business email on my phone because that’s what Ma had used to sign me up. The sneaky woman. I loved her, adored her even, but I had decided that if she was going to pull stunts like this, I was going to cut contact with her for a bit.

I finally located the email with an attachment, and sure enough, there was a ticket with a long code on it.

“You mean this?” I asked, handing over my phone.

“Yes, that’s the one.” She typed something into her computer and then handed me back my phone. “Here’s a map so you know where the aquarium restaurant is and how to get there. We ask that diners be finished and off of zoo grounds by ten.”

I nodded because I honestly couldn’t see myself still being here even an hour from now, let alone at ten tonight. It wasn’t that I went to bed by then. I simply didn’t hold any hopes for this being anything but awkward and a bit of a disaster. I wasn’t looking for a mate. I was only here so Charlie didn’t get stood up on Valentine’s Day because obviously he was looking for a mate. I felt bad because he’d been paired with me.

After glancing at the map, I headed toward the direction of the aquarium. It was off to the left, quite a distance if the map was correct. That meant I was going to be late. I honestly felt a little bad about that because although I didn’t want to actually be here, that didn’t mean I wanted to be late. I picked up my pace, something that was easy when you were as tall and muscular as I was. People tended to get out of your way.

The aquarium was up ahead, and I glanced at my watch—I was only five minutes late, so not too bad. Except I still had to find not only the restaurant but Charlie as well. The restaurant was actually easy enough to locate. But like at the gate, there was a queue, and I had to wait in order to get admitted.

“Ticket?” the guy said to me once I finally made it through the doorway.

“Umm…” I said, pulling out my phone again. It was in the email, right?

“It was given to you at the front gate.”

I looked through everything I’d been given, and sure enough, she’d slipped in a ticket without me having seen it. I handed it over, and he placed it on a stack of similar tickets.

“You are welcome to enter, Mr. Thompson. There is a mingle area just to the right around this wall, and the restaurant is off to the left. If you don’t see your date, you are welcome to look at the tables for your names.”

I nodded. “Thank you,” I told him before I entered the restaurant. Immediately, I was in awe at the place. It was literally under the aquarium. There were fish swimming above the tables. The restaurant seemed to fit into all of these nooks and crannies under a very large and gorgeous saltwater aquarium.

Unsure if Charlie was here yet, I decided to head to the meet-and-greet area and glanced around to see if there was anyone who fit his description. There were at least twenty people there, all standing around chatting and drinking, several with flowers on their lapels. I decided that it wasn’t going to be any use; I would have to ask every person if they were Charlie in order to find him, so instead, I decided to go searching for our table.

There were several tables that were secluded in little alcoves here and there, but it wasn’t until I went around a stone wall that I found the main dining room. I could certainly see how this could be a romantic dinner location. The place had been decorated for the holiday, and each table had what appeared to be a battery-powered lamp in the center. There were markers with names on them, and I started reading them in search of my own table.

I felt a hand on my arm by my wrist, and when I turned, my first thought was that he was incredibly cute. He was a lot shorter than I was, but he wasn’t tiny. You could tell he had some muscles under his blazer. I glanced at the lapel and found a pink rose there.

“Charlie?”

He smiled, and I wanted to kick my gorilla, who was certainly on board with having dinner with Charlie and then taking him home with us.

“Silver?”

I nodded. The smile somehow grew.

“The hair kind of gave it away,” Charlie said. “And in all honesty, it’s so much better than me wearing a pink rose. I obviously wasn’t thinking when I decided that a pink rose would stand out.”

I couldn’t help but grin. He was so damn adorable. What was wrong with me? Seriously. All of a sudden, I was completely charmed by this pint-sized man who was adorable in his little bow tie and blazer.

“I can’t really help the hair all that much—it kind of goes with the animal half once we reach a certain age.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Oh. I thought you had it done in a salon. It’s just like that? Naturally?”

I chuckled and nodded. “It is. I can tell you more about it, but maybe we should find our table first?”

“Yeah, it’s right over here,” Charlie said, pointing to his right. “I saw your hair, which was my hint as to what you looked like, so I came over to get your attention.”

I nodded at the cutie and followed him to our reserved table. It definitely had an amazing view. Not that any of them were bad. I remembered my manners at the last moment and pulled out Charlie’s chair for him before helping him get situated, and then went to the other side and sat.

I wasn’t quite sure what to say or how to start the conversation, but I had said I would discuss my hair, so I thought that might be a good starting point. Maybe. It was hair though, and it was kinda boring if you asked me.

“So, about my hair.”

“Yes. You said it came with the animal. There are so many scents in here I’m not sure exactly what yours is. Something large, though, from your human size.”

I chuckled and nodded. “Yes. I’m a silverback. Hence the hair,” I said, gesturing up to my head. My hair was black and had silver tips. “We’re born with dark hair, usually black or really dark brown. Then, when we reach a certain age, we get the silver tips in our hair.”

Charlie was sitting there with his chin on his hands, staring at me with a smile on his face. I could tell that he was actually interested, which I found unusual. “And what age does the hair color change? I’m just curious. I’m not trying to say you’re old or anything.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t offended in any way. “Mid to late thirties. I’m forty-two, and my hair has been silver-tipped since I was thirty-six.”

“That’s so interesting. Will it always stay like that? Or will it eventually turn more silver?” Charlie’s eyes rounded. “You don’t have to answer that. That was probably rude.”

I chuckled. “Not at all. My father sports a nice head of silver-and-black hair, although the silver has traveled farther down his hair, giving him more of a salt-and-pepper look.”

“That really is amazing. And do you have a good relationship with your parents?”

I nodded. “I do, yes. I love both of my parents equally, but my ma can be overbearing at times.” I chuckled and shook my head. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t even want to come on this date. Ma is the one who signed me up.”

Some of Charlie’s spark seemed to dim when I told him that, and he immediately sat up from where he’d been leaning on his elbows on the table. I couldn’t be sure if it was because of what I’d said or because someone approached our table and poured both of us a glass of water just then.

“What can I get the two of you to drink tonight? We, of course, have all of the soft drinks, but there is also both a white or red house wine if either of you wish for one of those.”

Charlie smiled up at the server. “Can I get a sweet tea with lemon? I know you have it, Duncan.”

Whoever Duncan was, he winked at Charlie and nodded. “You know it, Charlie.” Duncan then turned to look at me. “And for you, sir? What would you care for to drink this evening?”

I glanced between Charlie and Duncan for a split second before I shook my head. “Just water is fine with me.”

“Very well. I’ll be back with your tea and your first course in just a few.”

Duncan was gone before either of us could say anything else, and I gave Charlie a questioning look. When he didn’t elaborate, I outright asked. “How do you know Duncan?”

“Oh. I work here,” he said.

“Here? At the restaurant?”

“No, at the zoo. I’m a zookeeper here in the Australian Encounter exhibit. Which is really ironic since I’m a koala shifter.”

So that’s what his scent was. I couldn’t ever remember scenting someone like him before. “Do you like your job?” I asked. “Do you ever find it uncomfortable since you’re a shifter and work in a zoo? I can’t ever remember desiring to visit the zoo.” I glanced upward just as a large ray swam over us. “But this place is absolutely amazing, and I could see myself coming back.”

“Isn’t it? I’ve only ever grabbed lunch here a few times and only at the walk-up window. I’ve, of course, seen the restaurant, but it’s usually really busy and more out of my price range for a quick lunch. The walk-up window is more your normal lunch fare: burgers, fries, wraps, things like that.”

I looked at Charlie, somewhat surprised. “And the restaurant isn’t?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s the zoo’s fine-dining experience, and although a lot of the employees will get together and reserve a table maybe once a month for a nice lunch, I’m usually too busy to join.”

Duncan returned just then with a tray loaded down. He passed Charlie his tea and then placed a bowl in front of each of us. “I misspoke. First course is the salad. The appetizers will be out next. Enjoy, and be sure to let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Duncan,” Charlie said.

I glanced up at him and nodded. “Yes, thank you,” I added. But when I looked back down at my salad, I had to wonder if this was what they considered “fine dining”? I was staring at three leaves of romaine lettuce, a few carrot shavings, a small tomato that was quartered, and a pair of olives, along with a few sprinkles of what I was certain was feta cheese. There was some sort of dressing, but I couldn’t be certain what type. When I glanced up at Charlie, he busted out laughing.

“You should see your face right now.”

CHAPTER FOUR

CHARLIE

It was wrong of me to be even slightly upset when Silver had mentioned that it was his mother who had signed him up for this and he didn’t even want to come. I was here at my sister’s insistence, so I honestly had no right to feel any slight. He was only being honest with me.

Thankfully, Duncan came by just then and was able to pull attention away from my flash reaction to him telling me he didn’t even want to be here. I really couldn’t fault him. I was in a somewhat similar situation.

“Is this really what they consider a salad?”

I had to laugh. And it wasn’t a quiet chuckle; it was a full-out laugh. I agreed completely. It looked terrible. I understood they were trying for a fancy, high-end experience, but we were still in the aquarium restaurant at the zoo. It wasn’t a Michelin-star restaurant or anything.

When I finally got myself under control, I could only nod at Silver. He started poking at his salad, and I wondered if he normally ate them. He was a gorilla shifter, after all.

“Do you eat salads?” I decided to ask.

“I eat everything. I love food, and yes, I often order a salad with meals when I go out with my brothers. But this…this is not a salad.”

I had to agree. It really didn’t look like a salad. I picked up my fork and knife and decided that perhaps if I cut up the lettuce, it would be better at resembling an actual salad, but I wasn’t really holding out hope.

Duncan came back by, dropping off a basket of crusty bread for us. “How are the salads?” he asked.

“You’re kidding, right? These aren’t salads, Duncan. Why didn’t they cut up the lettuce and give us actual-sized salads? I know the restaurant has them.”

Duncan leaned closer. “The company that is hosting tonight’s event catered the meal. None of this was cooked by anyone from the normal kitchen staff. I promise, from what I’ve seen, the rest of the meal looks and smells really good. But the salads are a bit…” Duncan glanced down at my plate, where I had started cutting up the three leaves of romaine. “Well, lacking,” he finished.

“What’s the appetizer?” I asked, hoping it truly was better.

“Antipasto. And it’s a lot more than the salad, which I’m honestly thinking was an afterthought, really. But for the antipasto there are four skewers on each plate, and all of the chunks are hefty. Lots of pepperoni and prosciutto, olives, mushrooms, artichoke hearts, peppers, tomatoes, and lots of chunks of cheese. They look really good.”

I grinned up at Duncan. “Thanks, Duncan.”

“No problem. Have fun, and don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything.” He walked off, stopping at the next table, where a couple had finally sat down. I pulled my attention away from Duncan and back to Silver, once more entranced by him. He was just…everything I’d ever been looking for. He was tall, good-looking, muscular, seemed to be nice and well-mannered so far. I sighed inwardly. He most likely wasn’t going to be for me though. I definitely felt a pull toward him, but I wasn’t sure he felt the same.

“At least the antipasto sounds promising. How is the cutting going? Does that seem to work?”

I shrugged but continued to cut up my salad. “Possibly. There’s not enough lettuce to be a salad in my book.” I gave up and instead just pushed it to the side to let Duncan take it away once he returned. Silver chuckled and did the same. I placed my elbows on the table and grinned at the handsome man across from me.

“So, Silver—that’s an interesting name?”

“For whatever reason, Ma decided to name me and my four brothers after metals or minerals.”

I tilted my head to the side, curious. “How so?”

“Well, there’s me, then Clay, then Flint, then Mica, and finally Slate.”

“That’s certainly original. I thought your name came from your hair.”

Silver chuckled. “It just works out that way. Poor Clay, he doesn’t have anything red about him, but I guess the silver could end up looking like grayish-colored clay?”

I smiled. “Well, at least your name isn’t that of a very recognized cartoon character.”

“Charlie?” Silver seemed deep in thought. “The only one I can think of is Charlie Brown.”

I nodded.

“Seriously? Your name is Charlie Brown?”

I sighed. “Yeah, I know. You can go ahead and crack the jokes now. I’ve had almost thirty years to get used to them at this point, and I doubt you can come up with something I’ve not already heard.”

Silver’s gaze darkened, and his brow furrowed. “Why would I make jokes about your name? Why would you expect that from me?”

I shrugged. “I’m used to it. Most of the time, I don’t really hear them anymore. It just happens, and I ignore it.”

“No. That’s not right. Who’s been picking on you about your name? I’ll go growl at them and set them straight right now.”

I ducked my head, my cheeks heating at the thought of him doing such a thing. We’d just met, and although I definitely felt a strong attraction to him, I hadn’t known if he felt anything. But if he was willing, or even saying he was, to growl at people who made comments about my name, that had to mean something, didn’t it?

“Charlie?”

I looked up at Silver, who was staring intently at me. “Yeah?”

“Who? Anyone at work here?”

I shook my head. There had been one person, but they no longer worked at the zoo, so they were no longer an issue. “No. Everyone here is professional.” I shrugged. “Besides, most don’t know anyone by anything other than their first names.” I thought about that for a moment. “Well, besides the veterinarians. They’re all known as Dr. Whoever. But that’s a special case, I think. Everyone else is more of a family sort of thing.”

Silver nodded. “So, did you always want to be a zookeeper?”

I shook my head and laughed. “No. I absolutely didn’t. I actually have a teaching degree. An advanced one, but after a year in the classroom, I was joking around with a friend that it would be easier to work with actual animals than it would the students. He told me that the zoo was hiring, and here I am.” I stared into space a little while, thinking back to that moment, and chuckled. When I looked back up at Silver, he was studying me again. “I wasn’t wrong. Working here is so much easier, and honestly, it’s been more rewarding.”

Silver nodded. “I get it. I have an Economics degree, but it wasn’t for me come to find out, and now I run Silverback Security with my brothers. We do all different kinds of security. Cyber, personal, things of that nature. When it comes to personal security assignments, there are some that we know going in are going to be a pain. Some people just don’t know how to act, it seems.”

I could certainly agree with that. “We have guests sometimes. They can be complete nightmares. Throwing things into the exhibits, teenagers running around and screaming, parents not watching their small children—you name it, we get it.”

Silver shook his head.

“Salads a no go?” Duncan asked as he came back, two plates in his hands. “Oh well. Yours won’t be the first to go back to the kitchen. Here’s your antipasto. As promised, it’s much more appealing,” Duncan said as he placed a plate in front of me and then grabbed my salad plate. He did the same for Silver and then disappeared with the salads without another word.

“This certainly does look better,” Silver said as he picked up a skewer. He slid his fork through the skewer and then pulled it out, dropping all of the pieces onto the plate. I watched as he did that with all four of them before I did the same.

“Do you like your job? And do you like working with your brothers?”

“Yes and yes,” Silver said after a moment. I’d of course asked just as he’d put another bite of food into his mouth. “My brothers can be headache inducing at times, but I love them all. Sometimes they have to be growled at to keep in line, but they’re good at what they do. We have others that work for us, but I spend most of my time working with my brothers. It’s rare that I’m actually out on assignments anymore. I spend most of my time in the office networking and talking to clients.”

I nodded. So, the boss man.

“What about you? Siblings?”

I shook my head. “Just a sister, Samantha. I call her Sam though. She’s a little older, and we’re close. We lost my parents when I was sixteen and she was twenty. They were killed in a plane crash. Their plane went down in the mountains. They found the wreck the next spring.”

Silver’s jaw clenched. “The tourist charter that they said was caught in a storm?”

I nodded. It had made news. They weren’t supposed to be where they were, but the pilot took off anyway.

“Yeah. I was finally old enough to where they felt they could go away for a week. Sam was in college and checked in with me daily, so they felt comfortable going. We had no way of knowing it would turn out how it did.”

“I’m so sorry, Charlie. It has to be incredibly difficult to lose your parents, especially at that age.”

I felt terrible bringing it up. But he had asked. “Thanks. It was a long time ago, and yeah, I still miss them. But they’ve been gone almost half of my life. I will always miss my parents, but I can’t let them being gone be a reason for me to not live my life.”

“Good for you. I am still sorry though. The teenage years are difficult enough, and then to have that happen.”

“Let’s talk about something more uplifting. Tell me about your parents. Or your brothers. Unless you want to hear about Sam and Justin. She’s pregnant and due in a couple of months but is driving me crazy with her needing everyone around her to be happily mated and having families.”

Silver started laughing at that, and I joined. After a moment, he cleared his throat and looked like he didn’t want to say what he was about to. “Pretty much the same thing. Ma signed me up. None of us seem to be making finding mates a priority, and she’s ready for grandbabies. She’s normally amazing, but yeah, she can be a bit pushy when she feels her boys aren’t doing what she feels we need to be.”

I smiled. That sounded wonderful, but probably only because I wasn’t directly involved in it. Well, not really. It was true that I was out on the date with Silver because of her, but I’d not had her meddling in my life personally.

“How did your sister meet her mate? Justin, you said?”

I snorted, and Silver raised an eyebrow in question.

“It’s funny, actually.” I took a drink to wash down the olive and cheese I’d just swallowed. “He pulled her over. Justin is human and a cop, and Sam was speeding. He pulled her over, and of course, she felt the mate pull, and he seemed to as well and let her go with a warning. It took her two weeks of moping and being miserable to finally track him down at the station. She asked him out; he was picked on by the other officers at his station, but he said yes, and, well, magic happened, I guess you could say.”

Silver was smiling as I told the story. “That’s really awesome. How long have they been mated?”

“Two years. They’re finally starting a family, and now her hormones are in overdrive, and she’s been pushing me to date. They’ve tried to set me up with at least a dozen different cops at Justin’s precinct, but I keep telling her no. She finally agreed to leave me alone if I’d do this Heart2Heart match thing, so here I am. She’s insisting I call her the second I get home, which I’ve already told her wasn’t going to happen. Which means she’s probably going to show up at my place before the sun tomorrow and wake me to spill the deets.”

“Hmm, we’ll have to see how things go. Maybe you won’t even be at your place in the morning for her to wake up.” Silver said. When my eyebrows rose, he winked at me before he took another bite of his antipasto. Was he implying what I thought he was? Did I want that? This was our first date, and it was a blind date. There was no way I’d ever sleep with someone on the first date. Would I? Immediately, my mind went places that it probably shouldn’t. Places like…how good was Silver in bed? How long could he go? Would he be able to do me against the wall? At that thought, my entire face heated, and I grabbed my iced tea and took a drink before he noticed. Hopefully.

CHAPTER FIVE

SILVER

My gorilla was certainly on board with the thought of taking Charlie home with us. He wanted him in our space, and I knew that once I finally got Charlie out in the open and away from all of the scents surrounding us, I’d be able to confirm what the Heart2Heart company had said—Charlie was my mate. Despite my resistance to mating, even I wasn’t a fool. You didn’t deny your mate. It just didn’t happen. They were your perfect everything, and I was almost certain that Charlie was that person to me.

We continued to eat our antipasto, and before we were even finished, Duncan came around and dropped off plates that were heaped high with penne pasta, grilled chicken, basil, and red sauce. It smelled delicious.

“Main course,” he said as he placed Charlie’s plate in front of him. “Are you finished with the appetizer?”

Charlie had made it a little over halfway through his, while mine was almost completely finished.

“Umm…”

“Just push it to the center, and you can pick at it if you still want it,” I told him. I quickly stabbed the last few bites of mine and leaned back, allowing Duncan to take my now empty plate. He placed the main course in front of me, and with it directly under my nose, I closed my eyes in appreciation. It truly did smell wonderful.

“Be sure to save room for dessert. It’s thick slices of coffee-chocolate cake layered with mocha-mascarpone frosting and a large scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.”

Charlie moaned, and it went straight to my groin. I was incredibly thankful that we were sitting down and things under the table couldn’t be seen because that noise had an impact on me unlike any other had in, I couldn’t tell you how long. Although I had to agree that the cake sounded amazing, it was the sound Charlie made that really caught my attention.

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind. You can have the antipasto. I’m saving room for cake because that sounds absolutely heavenly.”

Duncan chuckled before he whisked Charlie’s plate away. “Don’t blame you. Have fun, and I’ll be back to check on you in a bit. Enjoy getting to know each other,” Duncan said. He was gone in a blink, and I was quickly drawn back to my dinner partner.

“This smells as good as it tastes,” Charlie said when I met his gaze. He was chewing happily, and I grinned at him.

“That’s good. It does smell delicious. And the cake sounds amazing.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Doesn’t it?” He picked up his glass and took a drink of tea before he stabbed more chicken and pasta onto his fork. I found myself once more transfixed by him, which was unusual for me. I didn’t date. I didn’t have commitments beyond my immediate family. But there was something completely different about Charlie. There was certainly that draw that one heard about from puberty. How when we met our mate, we wouldn’t be able to deny the attraction for long.

“So tell me what it’s like working with your brothers. You mentioned you get along with them, which is great.”

I nodded. “They’re all right. Some days are frustrating, others are good. We each have our own house, but we spend a lot of time together even after working with one another all day.”

“That’s really amazing. Don’t get me wrong, I love my sister, but I don’t think I could spend that much time with her. At least not since she got pregnant.”

“Oh no?” I’d personally never been in close contact with anyone pregnant. I’d heard some stories though.

Charlie shook his head. “No. I really do love her. Don’t think I don’t. But like I mentioned earlier, she thinks I need to be mated and having a family. It’s been crazy.”

“Ma has been like that,” I told him before taking another bite of the main course. It truly was delicious, and I wondered if I could figure out how to make it since Duncan had said the meal was catered and not done by the restaurant staff here. “She wants all of us mated and having kids. None of us seem to be moving at a timeline that she agreed with, so she apparently took matters into her own hands, and here I am.”

“Who would have thought that out of all of the people here, two that didn’t sign up themselves were matched up,” Charlie said. But the tone of his voice sounded somewhat sad. My gorilla didn’t care for that, and he insisted I do something to bring back the smile that had been on Charlie’s face just moments ago.

“True. But I’m glad I came. I’m really enjoying having dinner with you and can’t wait to see what else happens later.”

Charlie looked at me, surprise all over his face. He glanced around before leaning a little closer. “What are you saying? Or implying?”

I winked again. “Well, I had mentioned you not being home in the morning for your sister to wake you up and demand to know what all happened on our date. If that isn’t something that interests you, which is perfectly acceptable, then perhaps we could at least go for a walk and get to know each other a little more?” It was my turn to glance around at the dining room. “Not that this place isn’t amazing, because it is. But it’s loud and doesn’t really offer privacy.”

“We could walk around the zoo if you want. Although it closes at eight, so that probably won’t be an option.”

“What about everyone here?”

“They usually have barriers put up and will have employees that volunteered to be stationed here and there to make sure people don’t go wandering around. It’s actually easier to close off sections of the zoo than you’d think.”

I thought about that for a moment, and it made sense. With a place such as this, there was so much that could happen it would need to be able to close at a moment’s notice. “Well, there are other places we could go for a walk, aren’t there?” I asked, trying to quickly come up with somewhere around town where we could continue our evening.

“Umm…I’m not sure. I don’t really hang out in the parks around town too much. I think most of them close at sunset anyway, don’t they?”

Hmm, he had a point. They did, and that really only left his place or mine. Or we could go to an all-night diner or bar. But again, neither of those places was overly private.

“Well, I’ll just suggest that we can go back to my place—no strings attached, promise—and we can hang out on my back deck if you’d like. I would recommend going to the beach, but I happen to know for a fact that it does close at ten, so depending on how long we’re here, we might not get a long walk.”

“Your deck sounds good. It was supposed to be fairly warm tonight, so I don’t see why not.”

The weather here was almost always warm, but that was what happened when you lived on the coast. The temperatures were usually mild, and we often enjoyed nice weather year-round. We could still get cold weather, but for the most part, it was what I’d consider ideal.

“We can do that. You can follow me home, and that gives you your vehicle there, and you are free to leave whenever you feel you should.” I held up both hands. “Absolutely no pressure for anything. I truly would like to continue our conversation more though. Talk about other things beyond what are normal first-date things when one is set up on a blind date.”

Charlie grinned and was about to say something, but unfortunately, Duncan interrupted us. I didn’t necessarily dislike the guy, but he was beginning to get really annoying with his timing.

“How’s your meal going? Need any refills?” Duncan asked. He had a pitcher in his hand and immediately started refilling my water.

“I’ll take another tea,” Charlie told him.

“The meal is good, but the company is better,” I said, my gaze never leaving Charlie’s. When he noticed, his cheeks turned pink again, and I winked. I might not have been interested in dating anyone, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to flirt. I did and definitely could if I so desired. I’d discovered that with Charlie, I certainly desired to flirt, among other things.

“Yeah, so I’ll be back with that tea and your desserts a little later. Unless you’d like them to go?”

Charlie continued to stare at me for a moment before finally looking up at Duncan.

“Huh?”

“Dessert. Did you wish to have it to go?” Duncan gestured around the room which had emptied out considerably since we’d first arrived. “There are several other couples who decided to take dessert with them.”

“Umm, it’s not late yet, is it?”

Duncan shook his head. “Almost eight, so no, not late.”

Almost eight? How had that happened? We’d already been here for an hour and a half? It didn’t seem that long.

“I’m happy to have dessert to go if that’s what Charlie wants. Otherwise, here is fine,” I told Duncan. He looked back to Charlie, who seemed a bit indecisive. “To go, then,” I decided. Charlie grinned at me, and I offered a wink in return.

“I’ll be back with those in just a bit, then,” Duncan said. “Did you still want another tea?”

“To go, please.”

Duncan nodded and then disappeared.

“How did it get so late already?” Charlie asked.

“Is eight late?”

Charlie sighed. “I guess I’m the old fogie at this table, then. I’m often home, showered, and in comfy pajamas by nine.”

I tilted my head. “But what time do you get up for work?”

“Guilty there. I have to be here at six most mornings, which sucks, but it is what it is. I really like my job, and it pays well. And it’s not stressful.”

“Those are all good things. But if you start at six, what time does your shift end?”

Charlie nodded. “Three or four. But I have to be up at five and out the door by five thirty.”

“Then it makes perfect sense that you have an early night. If I had to be at work that early, I’d be in bed by ten, most likely. Sleep is important.” Not only that, but my gorilla really liked sleep. It didn’t do well on just a few hours of rest.

I noticed that Charlie was now pushing what remained of his food around on the plate. I didn’t know if it was because he was full or if he felt the date was coming to an end. “Did you still want to come back to mine? I understand if you have to be up early tomorrow that you might not want to.”

“Oh no…I mean yes. I don’t work tomorrow. I took the day off just in case.”

Just in case. He was possibly hoping that we would hit it off. That was reassuring. Movement caught my eye, and I glanced to my left, noticing a large fish swimming by.

“Do you know the story about the aquarium and how or why they put a restaurant under it?”

Charlie looked up and smiled. I followed suit and saw a large ray swim over us. Perhaps it was the same one from earlier; I had no way of knowing.

“I couldn’t tell you how it was managed or built, just that it obviously took a lot of designing and construction. They’re very selective about the fish and other creatures that are in these tanks.”

Charlie pointed over behind me, but I wasn’t certain what he was pointing to.

“The rocks there,” he said, indicating over my shoulder and off to our side and then behind him.

“Yeah?”

“They actually hide the walls of the different tanks. This isn’t one large tank like most people think. It’s several, but they are obviously large enough to hold the animals that are in them. They have tubes that they open and let the fish and things swim from tank to tank in the evenings after the zoo is closed, but there are daily inspections for all of the tanks to ensure safety.”

I glanced around again. I still couldn’t see anything other than one giant tank above us, but I had no reason to doubt Charlie. “That’s really fascinating,” I told him. “I never would have even guessed if you’d not said anything.”

Charlie grinned. “Most people wouldn’t.” We continued chatting about small things while eating our meals. It was so delicious and not surprisingly, I eat it entirely. It was that good. We were talking about weekend plans when Duncan returned about thirty minutes later.

“All right, you two. Here are your chocolate cakes. Sorry, no ice cream with the cake to go. It’ll melt, so just cake and some super-decadent whipped cream. Enjoy your evening, have fun, and go do wild things that we all want to go do.”

I chuckled, and Charlie shook his head. “See you in a few days, Duncan. And thanks for everything.”

“You betcha.”

Duncan wandered off, leaving me with Charlie, and I was suddenly anxious. This was it.

“Are you ready?” I asked before I stood. I didn’t want to presume.

“More than,” Charlie said. He stood, grabbing both his box of cake and the Styrofoam cup that Duncan had brought for him.

“Then, shall we?” I held out my arm, and when Charlie walked to me, I grabbed the other piece of cake, and we left the restaurant. It was time to see about getting a good scent of the cute little koala shifter. But I already knew the answer. My gorilla knew that Charlie was ours, and that’s all I needed. Now, to just figure out how to win him over.

CHAPTER SIX

CHARLIE

I had been skeptical. I truly had. But as we left the restaurant, I had no doubt that Silver was my mate. How though? How could a database know who was whose mate? Although, this year, it had said something about Cupid himself being the one to match everyone up. Did that mean everyone in the restaurant was actually somehow paired up with their mate? How amazing would that be?

“You’re quiet. Are you having second thoughts about coming to mine? If so, I understand. Seriously, no pressure.”

I looked up at Silver. He was so much taller than I was. I liked it. “No, that isn’t it at all. I’m actually looking forward to talking to you more.” I glanced out at the zoo as we walked around the lit pathway. “I was just thinking about how all of those people in there were paired together by Cupid.” I glanced back up at Silver. “Do you think any of them are actually mates?” I asked. I didn’t want him to know I thought for sure that he was mine. If he wasn’t on the same page as me, I didn’t want to mess up by implying that I was certain he was my mate.

Silver stopped me with a gentle hand on my arm. When I looked up at him, he was smiling. “I believe that there is a very good chance that most, if not all, of those that were having dinner tonight happened to be mates that Cupid decided to pair up under the guise of the Heart2Heart annual event.”

“How is that even possible?”

Silver reached out and placed his free hand on my cheek. “Fated mates happen, Charlie. My parents are fated mates. You said your sister and Justin were mates. Do you not think it could be possible for us to find mates during a blind date?”

I couldn’t help but lean into his touch a bit. My koala was screaming at me in my head that, yes, this man, this gorilla shifter, was our mate, and he was touching us. “I want to,” I whispered. “But I know I’m nothing like a lot of people normally would date. I’m short, my animal isn’t dominant, I’m not overly masculine in the traditional sense. I want to have dates and go out, but I can’t take being introduced as just a friend any longer. I’ve gained too much self-respect after continually being hidden by previous boyfriends.”

I took a deep breath before taking a small step away.

“I could never hide you, Charlie. Right now, my gorilla wants nothing more than to throw you over my shoulder and take you back to our place and get you naked as quickly as possible. True, that’s not exactly showing you off, but he wants to make sure you’re claimed before he wants to take you out to show everyone that you’re ours.”

My eyes widened. I quickly glanced around and saw a trash can about three feet in front of us and quickly tossed my tea. When I turned back to Silver, I discovered he’d followed me and had a panicked look on his face. I simply raised my hands up and nodded. “Yes, please,” I said. Seconds later, Silver started chuckling. I thought he was laughing at me until he handed me his box of cake. I took it, unsure what he wanted me to do with it. When he simply swept me up into his arms bridal-style, I squeaked.

“We’ll do over the shoulder next time. Right now, you have cake that I plan on eating with you later.” Silver started walking. “After we burn some energy.”

I melted. I looked up into those dark eyes that were staring intently at me, and I gave myself over to him then. He didn’t know it yet, but I did. For the first time in my life, my koala was at peace. He had just gotten a very good scent of Silver, and there was absolutely no doubt that he was our mate. If given the option, I would gladly claim my mate when he was ready. Hopefully, he felt the same.

“And how are we going to burn energy?” I asked, curious yet hopeful.

His eyes flashed silver for a second, and I felt my body heat.

“Exactly how your scent is telling me you hope we’re going to burn energy.” Silver walked a few more feet before taking a left. “Tell me which row you’re parked in. I’ll walk you to your vehicle and then meet you at the exit gate.”

“Oh, umm…” I said, pointing to the right, the opposite direction he’d just taken us. “I’m actually parked in the employee lot. If you want to go back that way, I’ll drive you over to yours?”

Silver stopped and then turned around. “This way?”

“Yes,” I said, indicating for him to go over to the next path that was blocked off. “Go to the side of that barrier and along that path.”

“Will they let us?”

“Yeah. Most of them know me, and I actually have my badge in my pocket if we get stopped. You might need to put me down though.”

Silver stopped, looked down at me seriously, and then started walking again. “No. We were doing an over-the-shoulder thing that then became a carry thing like this. Don’t expect me to put you down until I absolutely have to. You wanted to be carried.”

I rolled my eyes at his answer. But in reality, I had wanted this? Someone who wouldn’t be ashamed of me and hide me. Silver was doing neither. He was carrying me in his arms here at my place of work.

“Just so you know, I’m going to be overly protective, at least at first.”

“Umm…what do you mean by that? I have a job. I work with others. Are you going to be controlling?” I tried to sit up, but Silver was holding me in a way that I really couldn’t.

“No. Protective, not possessive. I’ll look out for you, but I won’t dictate what you can and cannot do. You are still your own person, Charlie. I don’t wish to control you. Just protect you.”

I wiggled, and eventually, Silver stopped again and set me on my feet. I looked up at him, and he gave me a confused look in return.

“You want to protect me? You are talking as if this is a done deal,” I said, pointing back and forth between the two of us.

“I was under the impression that you were completely on board. We were talking about having sex, and sex usually leads to claiming when mates are involved. If I’m mistaken, I apologize. We can slow down if that’s what you need.”

I took a deep breath and let it out quickly. He wasn’t wrong. I was throwing around mixed signals left and right. I was planning on going back to his place to have sex. And he wasn’t wrong when he said sex between mates usually led to claiming. My past insecurities were pushing their way forward though and if I didn’t squash them in a hurry, they could mess up my chances with Silver.

“If you want to meet my family first, I can kiss you good night at your vehicle and we can set up another date for tomorrow or later in the week.”

I winced. I definitely didn’t want to do that. Not even a few minutes ago, I was ready to have wild monkey sex…or, I guess, wild gorilla sex? Either way, I was more than on board to have that with him.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t be here. The zoo is closed, and we had this pathway closed off,” a voice said from behind Silver. He immediately turned and pulled me closer and behind him. I wasn’t threatened, but I could understand his need to protect.

“I’m actually an employee,” I told him. I moved around Silver and handed him the boxes of cake so I could pull out my badge and show him. “I parked in the employee parking, and we were just on our way out that entrance,” I continued. The other guy took my badge and placed it in the end of his handheld, and when it dinged, I knew it came back as an active, unrestricted badge.

“You’re good. Please just make sure you head on out. We’re trying to make sure everyone stays where they’re supposed to be.” He handed me my badge, and I slid it back into my pocket.

“We will. We’re on our way out now,” I said as I reached for Silver. I looped my arm around his and started walking in the direction we needed to go. It wasn’t dark on the path—there were plenty of lights still on.

“Did you want to continue our conversation?” Silver asked. I glanced up at him, then all around us, and deemed us mostly private. There were a few others walking around, but with where we were, they would be employees.

“Yes. But can we continue it at your place? Somewhere more private?”

Silver’s forehead scrunched. “I thought you didn’t want to be kept a secret? I was under the impression that you wanted an out-in-the-open relationship.”

I nodded quickly. “I do. But there are a few things I’d like to ensure that my coworkers don’t hear. Specifically, things about my sex life. Is that acceptable?”

Silver’s face softened. “It is.” He held out his free hand, and after I took one of the boxes of cake, I laced my hand with his and led him down the pathway that would take us to my car. It only took about five minutes to reach the gate, and we spent it in silence. I would have been concerned if not for the fact that, off and on, Silver gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

When we approached my car, it suddenly occurred to me that there was a very real possibility that Silver might not fit inside it.

“You have to be kidding.”

I looked up at Silver and grimaced. “Well, just from one parking lot to another. And there’s a lot more room inside than it looks,” I told him as I pulled my keys out of my pocket. I loved my little car. It was perfect for me, and until Cupid had decided my mate was a giant of a gorilla shifter, I didn’t have any reason to need anything larger.

“It’s a Fiat.”

I grinned. “Isn’t it great? It’ll only be a few minutes to get over to the other parking lot,” I told him as I looked at Silver over the roof. I opened the door and easily slid in behind the steering wheel. Up until a few hours ago, there was absolutely no reason for me to have to worry about the size of my vehicle.

Silver opened the door, and he held the box of cake out to me, I took it and placed it on the floor behind the seats with the other one. I will admit that it was an adventure to watch my mate try to pretzel his way into my tiny little car. It was perfect for me, and I just loved the little thing.

I grinned at Silver after he pulled the door closed. He definitely wasn’t comfortable in my car, which was a bit sad for me. I completely understood though. He was a big guy, and my car…well, wasn’t.

“So, where did you park?” I asked as I drove around the zoo from one parking lot to the other.

“I’m in A3.”

I nodded and headed that way. It only took a minute to get to the other lot and to the section he was in. I went to the third row and slowly drove down it.

“There, the large black truck on the right.”

Of course he would drive a big-ass truck. He was a giant of a man. I stopped in front of it and couldn’t even see over the top of the hood it was that tall.

“This one?”

Silver grinned at me. “Yeah. If you want to follow me, I’ll lead you to my place. It’s not too far.”

I nodded in agreement. Once Silver managed to remove himself from my car, I actually felt bad for him because he seriously struggled to get his legs out of it. I backed up a little to give him room to pull out of the space. Once he had his truck moving, I tucked in behind him, wondering if maybe I should have at least gotten his number in case we got separated.

I needn’t have worried though. Silver made sure I was always able to remain directly behind him. If I got caught at a light, he pulled over to the side of the road to wait for me. I became a little concerned, though, when he signaled that he was going to turn into my neighborhood. I thought we were going to his and not mine. We entered the neighborhood, and when I would have taken the first left to go to my house, Silver turned right. Since I knew what this neighborhood was like and how all of the roads were a lot like a maze, I made sure I didn’t lose sight of him. Not that it would be easy with as large as his truck was.

Silver finally slowed and signaled he was turning into a house. I moved to the curb, stopping on the street because I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to park behind him, beside him—he had a double-wide driveway—or on the street. He quickly came out to me, and I rolled my window down.

“You can pull in beside me if you want. I’m the only one that lives here.”

I nodded, and after I parked beside his enormous truck, I turned off my car and reached back for the cake boxes. Silver had my door open and was reaching out, so I handed him the boxes and then climbed out of my car.

“I was reaching to help you, but I guess taking the cake did that.”

I chuckled. “You will never believe this, but I live on the other side of this neighborhood.”

Silver looked thoughtful for a moment. “Over in the little cottages?”

I nodded my head.

“Well, isn’t that ironic. Shall we go have that conversation?”

I grinned and followed Silver to the gate that led into his spacious backyard. There was a single light on that was beside the door, and I watched as Silver typed in a code on the keypad. I heard a click, and seconds later, Silver slid the door open and reached inside. The deck was immediately lit with strings of lights, and I could only stare in awe at this little outdoor oasis.

“I take it you approve.”

I grinned up at my mate. “How could I not? This place is amazing.” I suddenly found myself comparing my little cottage to Silver’s much larger house and, well, found mine lacking a bit. It was perfect for me, but would Silver be comfortable there? I guess that was something we would need to discuss.

“Come, let’s sit and we can talk. I’ll grab some drinks and light the fire pit for us.”

I nodded and followed Silver over onto the deck where he’d indicated. I sat down in a super-comfortable chair while he disappeared into the house. I honestly didn’t know if I ever wanted to leave his deck. This place was absolutely amazing.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SILVER

Two minutes. Maybe it was a few more, but it hadn’t even been five minutes that Charlie had been in my space, and already, my gorilla was much more at ease. What would it be like when he finally moved in? Yes, I was presuming, but the truth of the matter was if he lived in one of the cottages on the other side of the neighborhood, then that meant his house was super tiny. I wouldn’t be comfortable there. They were good for someone who was on the smaller side and who didn’t have a lot of things, but I had four brothers. They were all large like I was. They all liked to have family gatherings, and we rotated weekly.

I didn’t even think to ask Charlie what he wanted to drink. At the restaurant, he had ordered tea. I didn’t have tea. I had water, beer, and it was possible that Mica had left wine here, but I didn’t know if it was the kind that Charlie drank. I opened my fridge and decided to grab a few things. A pair of water bottles and a couple of cans of soft drinks. Maybe Charlie would want one of those. If not, I could make coffee. Most people drank coffee, didn’t they?

“Do you drink coffee?” I asked as I came out the sliding door. I closed it behind me, walked over to the table, and set the drinks down. Thankfully, I had large hands and could hold all four of them. “That is, if you don’t like water or soft drinks,” I added. “Oh, and I have beer, and there is a bottle of white wine that one of my brothers left.”

Charlie just smiled up at me. “The water is actually fine.”

I nodded and sat down in the other chair and then quickly got up to turn on the fire pit. It was propane fueled and turned on easily with a switch on the side. I loved to be in my backyard and had spent a good deal of money on nice things for it.

“Oh, that’s convenient. I’ve only ever been around ones that you had to put wood in. That seems much easier to use. And clean up as well.”

I chuckled while nodding. “Yes. It works well. Are you chilly? I can get blankets and light the heaters as well,” I asked. It was in the upper thirties or low forties, but we were both shifters and wearing blazers and shirts.

“Honestly, if you lit the heaters, I should be fine. But I’m not really cold yet. That’s not to say I won’t chill off if we’re out here for a while.”

I nodded and quickly moved to turn on the four heaters. They made it a perfect temperature in the rare occurrence of us getting snow in the area, so it should be nice and warm with it being above freezing. Usually, I spent time out here in my gorilla form and didn’t really have to worry about it too much. Sure, I could become cold in that form, but it took a little longer for that to happen.

I sat back down and looked over to my mate. I was still trying to get used to that phrase. I had a mate. An adorable one at that.

“We were going to talk. What was it we were going to discuss?” Charlie asked.

Umm…what was it we were supposed to be discussing? Seriously, I couldn’t remember now that I finally had him here in my space. It took a moment, and I finally remembered.

“Mates. We were going to talk about me being protective and things like that. How you have a job.” I nodded at Charlie. “I have no issues with you continuing to work. None whatsoever. I work. I’m not planning on stopping. For me to expect that of you wouldn’t be fair.”

“So, I don’t have to quit? You’re not going to try and start dictating my life? What I can and can’t do? I’ve had past partners that tried to do that.”

I looked at my mate, baffled. “What type of assholes have you been dating?”

Charlie sighed. “Terrible ones. The kind who were always ashamed to be seen with me. The kind that only wanted to be with me when it involved sex or me cooking or cleaning for them. When we were out and happened to see someone they knew, I was demoted to friend only.”

I was upset for my mate. Not that I was upset that he was single and was willing to come on the blind date and meet me. No, I was pissed because of how he’d been treated in the past. A small plan of revenge started to form, but it could wait. For now, my focus was my mate and making sure he knew that I was all in.

“Well, I’m not going to ask that you hide from my friends or family. The hope is that going forward, we’re a team, in all things.”

Charlie looked at me a moment and then shook his head. “Not even three hours ago, you didn’t even want to go on the blind date. What changed?”

I sighed. He had every right to ask that question, and he wasn’t wrong. “I still have every intention of dealing with Ma later. Her signing me up didn’t just involve me—you have been impacted by it as well. But to answer your question, things changed because I met you. There is no denying that you’re my mate. Mates are supposed to be sacred. We get one. Why would I want to do anything to keep from being with you? You’re supposed to be my other half.”

Charlie smiled. “I appreciate that. But do you really need to say anything to your mom?”

I snorted. “Yes. If I don’t, she’ll continue on thinking she’s done nothing wrong.” I thought about it for a moment and shook my head. “No. She can’t continue on thinking she’s in the right. Sure, it’s worked out for us—well, hopefully. But if I had refused to go, that could have and would have led to being unfair to you. That’s not right, and she needs to know that.”

Charlie looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. “You’re right. Same with my sister. Although, she didn’t just sign me up. She did pester me until I caved and decided that I would go just to get her to leave me alone. I didn’t have any expectations except maybe getting a free meal, to be honest.”

“Well, there we go. Now, how about we talk about us and what we see as a future us?”

Charlie smiled. “I don’t guess you’ll want to eventually move in with me, huh?”

I winced and shook my head. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I’ve seen those little cottages. Little being the thing that stands out the most. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll give you a tour, and you can see my place? If you don’t want to live here with me, we can look for somewhere else in the future.” I would do it but wouldn’t really be happy about it. Charlie didn’t realize it yet, but two of my brothers had houses here in the same neighborhood. The other two lived in houses closer to our parents. It wasn’t that they didn’t like this neighborhood; they just hadn’t found anything available and had decided to go ahead and move elsewhere.

“I’d like to see the house,” Charlie told me. I grinned, and after I switched off the fire pit and the heaters, I led Charlie into the house.

“As you can see, this is the kitchen,” I told him. “There is the living room over there. It, of course, has the normal bachelor oversized TV for watching the games. My brothers and I often watch at one of our houses. We take turns.” I’d have to be more considerate with that now though. With Charlie in my life, and he would be, I had more than just me to consider. I would have to take in his comfort level and whether or not he even liked sports. We continued on, and I pointed out the home gym, the dining room, and the downstairs bathroom.

“The bedrooms are upstairs, then?” Charlie asked.

I had to take a few calming breaths at the mention of bedrooms. Of course, I wanted Charlie in mine. My gorilla and I were both on the same page with that—we wanted to claim our mate.

“Yes,” I told him. “There are four up there. The main bedroom, two spare bedrooms, and one that I use as a home office.”

“What about children?” Charlie asked.

My eyes widened at the mention of kids. I knew it would come up sooner or later though.

“What about them? I would like one, maybe two, I guess. I’ve not really been in the dating and starting a family mindset though.”

Charlie nodded. “Stairs and small children don’t always mesh.”

I chuckled. “True enough. But there are gates for that.” I glanced at the stairs. “If you really don’t want to live in a two-story house, we can look for something else once we get our relationship and claiming settled.”

Charlie looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. “Good. Will you show me the upstairs, then?”

I stopped Charlie with a hand on his shoulder as he stepped onto the bottom stair. “Hold up for just a sec.”

Charlie looked back at me, and I could tell he was confused.

“I’m just curious. Are we doing a tour? Or possibly more? I’m good either way, and my gorilla wants what he wants, but I would never force you.”

Charlie tilted his head before chuckling. “Tour for sure, but the hope is sex. If sex leads to more, then I hope we will figure things out later—we’re mates. Shouldn’t we have ideas that will complement and mesh together with each other?”

He was right, in a sense. Sure, there would be things we would have to work out, but all couples had those. It was part of being in a relationship. No two people could know every aspect of their partner before committing to each other. Granted, Charlie and I didn’t know much about each other, but we weren’t humans. We were paranormals, and our connection to each other was different. Once we claimed one another, we would have a link that was far deeper than that of any two humans who were married.

“If you are absolutely positive, I’ll take you upstairs. But once we do and things progress to biting, we can’t exactly take it back, Charlie. We’ll be mated, and that’s forever.”

Charlie nodded. “I realize that. If you’re having second thoughts, then we’ll wait. Otherwise, I’m ready. I’m not quite as old as you are, but I’m less than a year away from thirty. I’m settled in my life in everything except romantically. I hope that in time we can fall in love and you’ll show at least a bit of romance toward me. That is my hope anyway.” Charlie shrugged at saying that, and my heart actually ached for him. He’d been so mistreated by others in the past that he didn’t expect or feel as if he deserved to be treated with respect and shown romance. Even from his fated mate? I would certainly change that.

I held out my hand, and once Charlie placed his much smaller one in mine, I slowly started up the stairs. We stopped at the first door on the left. It was my home office. I hadn’t really wanted it up here, but putting the home gym equipment up here wasn’t recommended, so downstairs that went, and up here became the office. I didn’t use it every day, but enough to not want to have to drag out a laptop in the dining room frequently.

I then showed him the hallway bathroom and the other two rooms that were set up as guest rooms.

“Do you have visitors often?”

I nodded. “My brothers, yes. We rotate family get-togethers at each other’s houses. Sometimes they will crash here, but most of the time, they go on home.”

“Cool. I can’t wait to meet them.” He froze. “I will, right? We’re doing this?” Charlie pointed between the two of us.

“Yes, Charlie, we’re doing this,” I told him. I placed my hand on the side of his face. The urge to kiss him was too strong to fight any longer, so I leaned down, and after tipping his face up toward mine, I placed my lips on his.

Charlie immediately grabbed my jacket and held on, and I took that moment to wrap my free hand around his neck and pull him just a bit closer as I swiped my tongue across his lips. The moan that came from my mate sent tingling desire through my entire body, and I moved my hand from his neck to his ass and grabbed hold of him, lifting him up to my level. Charlie squeaked as he pulled his mouth from mine, and I took that as the perfect opportunity to do as I’d said I would earlier. I tossed him over my shoulder and headed to my bedroom. I had a mate to claim.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHARLIE

That kiss had been amazing. And when Silver had followed it up by simply picking me up and tossing me over his shoulder, another part of me fell for my mate. I had a feeling it would be very little time before I was completely in love with Silver.

When my stomach suddenly flipped as I went airborne, I screamed. It was cut off when my body abruptly stopped moving as I bounced on Silver’s bed. I’d somehow landed dead center, and when I got a quick peek at my mate’s room, I discovered it was as large as half of my little cottage. His bedroom alone. I glanced up at my mate with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“How is this room so huge?”

Silver chuckled. “You obviously didn’t notice that the entire house is large, Charlie. Especially if you’re comparing it to your place.” Silver placed a knee on the bed and grabbed my foot. I let him have it, and when he quickly untied my laces and slid my shoe off, I wiggled my toes at the freedom they now had. I didn’t dislike my dress shoes. But I didn’t wear them often, and they weren’t exactly completely broken in like my work boots.

“Are you asking if I have a thing for feet? Or just happy about the freedom your foot now has?” Silver asked as his hand moved inside the cuff of my pants and grabbed my sock. He pulled it off and then tossed it over his shoulder. I wiggled my toes again, thankful I’d showered before getting ready.

“My dress shoes aren’t as comfortable as my work boots. That’s all.”

Silver grinned as he moved his fingers to the sole of my foot and gently ran it along the center. I tried to pull my foot away, and that earned me a devious smile from my mate. “Someone’s feet are ticklish. I’ll remember that for later. Tonight, I’m not really interested in tickling you there. Unless it’s a hot spot for you.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. It’s a run and hide my feet spot, usually.”

Silver nodded as he carefully placed my leg back down on the bed and moved to the other one. He had my shoe and sock off in record time and then held out his hands. I took them, finding myself sitting up for seconds before I was pulled to my feet. I glared up at my mate in frustration.

“What did I do wrong?”

“Why did you toss me onto the bed if you were only going to pull me back up and off of it?”

“I apologize. I wasn’t thinking things fully through. I need to get your blazer and shirt off.” Silver reached for my bow tie. “Tell me, is this real? Or a clip-on? It’s incredibly cute, but I’m not sure how to undo it.”

I winked at Silver as I gave the tie a yank. It unsnapped, and he grinned as his fingers moved to the buttons on my shirt. I reached for his, starting in the middle because it was what I could reach with how we were positioned.

“Next time I throw you over my shoulder, I’ll make sure you’re either already naked or in something that is easy to pull off on the bed. This, though, I didn’t want to chance ripping anything of it.”

“I appreciate it. I’ve only gotten to wear it twice now and hope to get a few more wears out of it before I have to replace it.”

Silver nodded and pushed my shirt and blazer off my shoulders in one go. He caught it, and after I managed to get my arms out of the sleeves, he tossed it onto the foot of the bed. I stared up at him, a bit insecure about how I looked. I wasn’t out of shape, but I certainly wasn’t ripped like I knew he was.

“You have nothing to be concerned about,” he said as he gently ran a finger down the center of my chest. He then took a step back and started in on the buttons that I’d missed. His shirt and jacket joined mine, and then Silver’s warm hands were on my sides, just below my ribs. “What do you not like?”

“I’m open to just about everything. Not really into pain or things like that though.”

Silver shook his head. “Good to know, but I was meaning more along the lines of blow jobs, missionary, you on top, me behind. Things like that.”

“Oh!” I suddenly felt a wave of heat flush my face. “Yes to all of those.”

“Good.” I found myself picked up once again and gently tossed back into the center of the bed. Silver followed, and when he reached for my pants, I looked down my body as he expertly undid them. I lifted my hips enough to ease his removing them, and when my cock sprung free from my briefs, I bit my lower lip in anticipation.

Silver didn’t disappoint. He quickly removed his own pants, underwear, socks, and shoes before he moved his much larger body over mine. I moaned at the feeling. He felt amazing covering me, and when his hard cock nestled next to mine, my hips instinctively rolled and pushed up into his.

“Yes, just like that,” he whispered next to my ear. I shivered at the sensation and did it again. It felt so amazing. Probably too amazing since I was close to coming in just moments.

“Okay, that’s…so good. But we have to stop.”

Silver chuckled, and I was about to pout when he moved away and off me, but I saw he was moving toward the nightstand. I watched as he opened the drawer and pulled out a tube. It was half-gone, and I wasn’t going to say anything at all because I’d just met him today, but it kinda hurt. I looked the other way in hopes of getting my emotions under control. I knew I often wore my emotions on my face, and now was not the time to get upset because my mate had obviously brought several others over to his place. In his bed. That one was what was bothering me the most.

“Hey…” Silver said. He was suddenly back on top of me and moving my face upward toward him. “What’s wrong? I was just getting the lube for a little bit of frotting to take the edge off for the first round.”

I nodded. I didn’t quite trust myself to talk just yet. Only Silver seemed to have other ideas, and he suddenly moved up and straddled my legs.

“What’s going on?”

I took a deep breath before looking at him. I could only shake my head.

“Hey, we can stop. I didn’t mean to push. We can wait. Let’s get dressed and go eat that cake. I left them in the kitchen, and I’m sure I have some ice cream we can add to them.”

Sure, the cake had been exciting earlier, but now I was naked and with whom my koala was saying was my mate. The last thing I wanted was to get dressed again. Silver started to move off me, and I knew I’d have to speak up.

“No,” I said, grabbing his thigh to hopefully keep him from moving off me. “I don’t want cake right now.”

Silver stopped and looked down at me, his brows once again furrowed. “Talk to me. We need to be open with each other if we’re going to claim each other. I never thought I’d find my mate, nor would I be interested in bonding with someone who wasn’t my mate, but you are my mate, and I don’t want any issues between us.”

I nodded. He was right. He wasn’t just someone I’d met and we’d fallen in love and decided to bond with each other. Silver was my fated mate. He deserved to know what was going through my head because he couldn’t read my mind.

“It was stupid, really. I just…I realized that obviously neither of us are virgins, and you’ve had others here and everything that comes with that. It was really a stupid reaction, and I do apologize.”

Silver looked at me for a moment, shook his head, then grinned. When the grin turned into laughter, I glared and pushed on his hips to get him off me. That only made Silver throw his head back and laugh loudly. Enough of that. I absolutely did not wish to be with someone who laughed at me when I opened up and shared something like this.

Quickly, Silver leaned down, grabbing my arms on the way and holding them just above my head. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes, which caused me to glare even more. I could shift, I supposed, and in doing so, my smaller body could get away from him. But it was also a possibility that his much larger body could squish me against the bed in the process.

“Stop right there,” Silver said after he finally seemed to get himself under control. I suddenly found myself rolled, and now I was on top of Silver. He was looking up at me, his hands holding on to my hips tightly. “I love that you’re jealous of others, but there is no reason to be.”

I continued to glare, which caused my mate to chuckle.

“Seriously. We can call any of my siblings if you want. I’ve never had anyone here but them. You are the only other person aside from anyone in my family who has seen the inside of my bedroom.”

I was confused, and I knew it showed. Again, I was horrible at hiding my emotions. “You’re not a virgin,” I said.

“No, I’m not. But that is what hotel rooms are for. I have never brought anyone here, nor have I gone to theirs. I haven’t ever been in a relationship, Charlie. You’re it. Just you.”

I glanced over at the tube of half-empty lube. Silver’s eyes followed, and he shook his head. “I like lube when I wake up in the mornings. It just feels better than rubbing it dry.”

I was immensely embarrassed and wished the floor would open up and I could crawl into the hole and hide. Why? Why would my mind immediately go in that direction? Because I was looking at Silver, and he was hot. Even if he wasn’t my fated mate, I would still think he was hot. Because he was.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Silver gave my hips a squeeze, and I met his eyes. “Apology accepted. We’re new. Not even mated yet, and not even had the chance to wake up together once. It’ll take time. You’ll learn about me, and I’ll learn about you. But we’ll do it together.” Silver reached for something, and when he held up the tube, I grinned at the hopeful look on his face. “Now. We can put all of that behind us and have some fun and see where things go. Or we can get dressed and go have cake and talk some more.”

I knew what we probably should do. Honestly, we should eat cake and talk. That was the rational thing to do. But the thought of getting sexual with my mate overrode any idea of being practical.

I grabbed the tube of lube and held it up. “I vote for fun. Not that cake can’t be fun. Because it most certainly can. But I’m more inclined to jump in completely when it comes to things with you.” This seriously wasn’t anything like me. But if Silver was still willing, I wasn’t going to say no.

“Well then, we’ll just get started with a little bit of help,” he said, taking the tube from me. I watched as he squirted a generous amount into his hand, and when I looked down at where that hand went, my entire body heated at the sight. He was gorgeous everywhere.

When his hand wrapped around my cock, it quickly came fully back to attention, and I moaned as his hand slowly moved up and down it a few times.

“There we go. Now start rocking your hips.”

I did, more than ready to find some sort of release. Between the view of Silver below me on his back and the feeling of his hand wrapped around our cocks together, all too quickly, I found myself on the edge and stopped.

“Keep going,” he said, his voice rough with desire.

“I don’t want to. I need a moment because I’m about to come.”

Silver looked up at me and grinned. “Do you really think you’re going to get only one orgasm tonight?”

“I hope there’s more, but I’d be happy with one. But I’d really like you to be inside me when I do.”

Silver’s cock twitched next to mine, and I looked down at it. It was incredibly tempting.

“We’ll have to get you stretched first,” Silver said. It took me a moment for my brain to catch up to what he just said, but when it finally did, I nodded in agreement. Silver tugged on my hips, slid his hand around, and grabbed my cheek, and I bit my lower lip in anticipation. “Rock your hips forward.”

I did, and when his fingers slid into my crack, I closed my eyes in anticipation. When my hips rolled backward again, I felt Silver’s fingers there. I froze for a moment before I continued pushing backward. His finger pressed against my opening, but then Silver’s other hand on my hip pulled me back toward him, and I met his intense gaze.

“Keep going.”

I nodded once more and did as he’d said. I rolled my hips back and forth, thankful that with how I was now above him, there was very little stimulation on my own cock. Silver’s finger finally pushed in, and I stumbled a bit.

“All right? Need to stop?”

“No, I’m good,” I whispered and moved my hips back more. I realized that we were at the end of Silver’s reach though, so I crawled up toward him a little, and he didn’t disappoint. His finger slid in, and I closed my eyes. It was one finger but already felt amazing. My entire body was in overdrive, and I knew it was because of Cupid’s magic. I was with my mate. Everything between the two of us would be so much more than anything either of us had ever experienced before.

I stopped moving my hips and held still as Silver continued to move his finger in and out of my body. One became two, and I took a few deep breaths at the increased amount of stretching. When my body felt relaxed, I rolled my hips a little to let Silver know I was ready for more.

When he had worked up to four fingers moving in and out of my hole easily, my body was already tingling and filled with immense need.

“Look at this gorgeous cock. It’s so needy it’s purple and dripping on my stomach.”

I wanted to glare at Silver but couldn’t. He wasn’t wrong. My entire body was needy. “Please,” I managed to whisper.

“Move back a little,” he said as he pulled his fingers from my body. When I did, I felt the head of Silver’s cock pressing where his fingers had just been. I took a deep breath and moved back more, and when the head of his cock popped through, I sighed in relief before Silver’s hips pushed upward.

He filled me with ease, as if he was made to be there. Then again, he was my mate. My perfect match. When I sensed my ass touching Silver’s hips, I sighed in relief and sat there a moment to allow time for my body to fully adjust to his filling me.

When I opened my eyes and looked down at my mate, he had a huge grin on his face. “Whenever you’re ready,” he told me. I shook my head seconds before my cock twitched and bounced against his stomach.

“I’m afraid that if I move, I’ll come and it’ll be over too soon.”

“There’s always next round, Charlie. And we have all night because now that I have you here, I have no intentions of letting you leave before morning.”

I had to tease a little. “But come morning, you’re kicking me out, then?” I knew he would do no such thing, but I had to tease him a little.

“Not the plan, but we’ll discuss specifics on where we are going to be come morning. Right now, I need you to either rock your hips, or I’m going to take matters into my own hands and take care of both of us.”

I wanted that, and it must have shown on my face because I was suddenly pulled down on top of him, and then we rolled. Throughout it all, Silver’s cock didn’t slip from me even a little. He raised his eyebrows at me once, and then he pulled his hips back and then pushed them forward. I closed my eyes and moaned at the sensation.

“Oh yes,” I said on the next thrust. I pushed my head back into the bed below us and grabbed onto Silver’s shoulders as his thrusts sped up. Between my already on-edge state, Silver’s thick cockhead continually rubbing over my prostate, and the stimulation on my own cock between our stomachs, it didn’t take long for my body to feel the telltale sign of impending orgasm. When my balls tingled more intensely than they ever had before, I didn’t even try to hold back. I simply grabbed fistfuls of the bedding below me and held on as the most intense and fulfilling orgasm I’d ever had rolled through my body.

Wave after wave of pleasure filled me as I came between our stomachs. Silver made a grumbly grunting noise and wondered if it was him or his gorilla that made it because I wasn’t quite sure. Maybe it was all my imagination, though, because of all of the emotions going through me.

Silver’s hips sped up just before he grunted again, and then I felt him suddenly get stuck. He pushed up onto his elbows a little and stared down at me, seemingly just as surprised as I was. If there had been even a hint of doubt left, it was now gone. He’d knotted me.

I nodded and tilted my head to the side to give him plenty of room, and that was all it took for Silver to lean down and sink his teeth into my neck. There was a flash of pain, but it was gone in an instant when another orgasm, this one even more overwhelming than the other one, raged through me.

I shouted into the room, and when Silver moved his neck in front of my mouth, I instinctively bit. The taste of iron in my mouth was new, and I quickly pulled my teeth from his neck and licked over the bite. A feeling of complete relaxation overcame me, and I suddenly felt drowsy and sighed.

“My thoughts exactly,” Silver mumbled. He slid his arms under my back, and we were suddenly rolling again. I found myself on top of my mate—my mate! I had been claimed by my fated mate!

I could feel Silver breathing deeply below me as I lay on his chest. The movement, combined with the orgasms he’d just given me did wonders for lulling me to sleep.

I felt Silver’s lips on the top of my head, and while one arm wrapped protectively around my back, the other started threading through my hair. I yawned again.

“Take a nap. We’ll worry about the next round in a bit.”

I couldn’t do anything except nod in agreement. I felt our bond slip fully into place, and I saw a giant silverback gorilla running through tall grass with a gray koala hanging on to his neck as I dozed off. It was such a beautiful thing to see, and I hoped we would be able to make it reality soon. But for now, it was time to nap and then get to know my mate better in the upcoming days.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

TAYLOR RYLAN

Coffee addict. Chocolate lover. Wrangler of smooshy face cats. In her author life, Taylor had absolutely no idea that writing about a certain created warlock would be so loved by readers. Her Destined Paranormals world is where she spends her time and she's looking forward to sharing even more stories with Edison, Ambrosius, Daegal, Sergei, and the rest of the Council with you. Look for new characters, new HEAs, and new paranormal species soon!

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