Murder Mittens (Magical Romantic Comedies #13) - R.J. Blain Page 0,61

The elevator door chimed and opened, and Sebastian waited until I went inside before following, tapping the button for the top floor. “Lions are masters at pampering. We are obviously kings and queens over all other living things, and royalty are pampered. But as we’re more solitary than our mundane counterparts, we’re usually required to pamper ourselves. The chosen beloved of royalty are also pampered. That’s you, in case you might attempt to deny how you should be treated like the queen you are.”

“Goodness, Sebastian. Your ego has noticeably inflated. Do you know what happens when your ego gets too inflated?”

If his grin broadened any more, his face might crack in half. “You will do your best to pop my overinflated ego, aiming for making me roar as many times as possible within a ten minute period. I win, because when I roar, you purr, and controlling your happiness pleases me greatly. And when you’re unhappy, I’m unhappy, and nobody wants an unhappy lion, Wells.”

“Do lions get married?” It could go either way with feline lycanthropes. My parents had married, but they’d married because when popping out litters every few years, being married helped with the taxes and simplified matters for them. None of my mated uncles had married, as they hadn’t seen any point in doing so.

They’d caught their mate, and they didn’t need a piece of paper to establish their status as mated.

“We do. Often elaborately. Do you know what wedding days are?”

“Tax-cut day.”

“Present day, my lynx. It’s a day where everyone we know is required to give us presents for having found happiness. We get prizes for mating and officiating it.”

My eyes widened. “My parents got a courthouse marriage. They skipped getting presents?”

“If they have an actual wedding ceremony, everyone close to them is required to give them gifts.”

I grabbed my new phone out of my purse, eyeballing the box. “Is this a good phone, Sebastian?”

“It’s a really good phone, yes. There are better on the market, but for its price? It’s damned good and will do just about anything you want, especially on the game front. Do you need help setting it up? I’m pretty sure you’re using a flip phone that can’t even use the internet.”

My pride demanded I lie, lie, lie to cover my ignorance about phones. Instead, I grabbed my old phone out of my purse and held both out to him. “Yes, please.”

He took the phones. “Glad to help. I’ll show you how to do it when we’re in the room, and if you weren’t planning on getting a case, I’ll pick one out for you while I’m out.”

“Do they really need cases?”

“Yes. We’re lycanthropes. We are masters at breaking things accidentally. That makes cases necessary. Not putting a case on your phone is like mimicking those who put coffee cups in CD holders when you’re a lycanthrope. And in my not-so-humble opinion, even when you’re not one. Phones are expensive. Put yours in a case.”

I gasped. “You heard about that call?”

“I may have called your boss using my CDC credentials during an inquiry on lycanthropes in high-stress workplaces located in your area. It was a legitimate call. Mostly. And as I’m clever and insufferable, I did my survey requesting specific examples. There’s only one female lycanthrope in his employment. You. I heard about the call. One of my new goals in life is to put you into a job you actually like. And I have no doubt you’re good at your job. I just want you to have work you like. That is not a smear on you, your work ethic, or even your job, only because even your boss is aware you do it because of personal reasons, not because it’s the job you want. And yes, your boss knows about your scars, and however much it disgusts me, he admitted he shows you some favoritism because of them.”

“Really?”

“He gives you more days off than others with your seniority. He also factored your gender into it, because he wrongfully assumed you were actively looking for a man.”

“I have the pickiest virus. She has never liked men. She has only liked one man. And for her to like you, you had a lot of criteria you needed to meet. Honestly, I love my virus because of that. She could have made my life so much worse.”

“The virus is essentially sentient, Harri. Your virus knows how much it hurts when people flinch because of your face. She wouldn’t partner you with someone

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