too.”
“Samzilla climbed one of the longleaf pines last week, testing out his claws.” Sam all but glowed with pride. “He jumped from the highest limb. Just leapt into thin air. Totally fearless. I caught him, but it shaved a century off my life, if you know what I mean.”
“Not fearless.” Kate worked to sound scolding, but she smiled. “He knew his daddy would catch him.”
The family moment washed over me, and I soaked in how life should be for all kids.
Loving parents, beautiful home, tightknit community.
What Kate said stuck with me. How Samzilla had taken a leap of faith, certain his father would always be there to catch him. How secure he must be to have that much trust so young. How confident in his parents’ love for him. How bold to test his limits without fear because he hadn’t learned to be afraid.
“I’ll keep him out of trouble,” Kate promised, and then shifted into her primal form.
Samzilla, taking his duty seriously, bounded between Midas and me the whole way back to our cabin. From there, Kate swooped in to tussle with him in the dirt then darted off with him in pursuit.
“They welcomed me into their home.” I hadn’t meant to say it, but it fell out of my mouth. “Why?”
“We’re courting.” Midas closed the gap Samzilla had kept between us. “You’re as good as pack to them.”
The squeaky barks grew more distant, but I could still hear the littlest gwyllgi challenging his mom.
Heart brimming from the encounter, I glowed with the aftermath of our game. “Are all pack families…?”
Loving. Happy. Nurturing.
“No.” He eased behind me, slid his arms along my sides, and linked his wide hands above my navel. “Not all of them.”
“Why did you chase me?” I twisted around to see his face. “I thought you were playing but…”
“The pack wanted to see you, and you needed to see them.”
“You were bribing me with your pack.” I elbowed him. “With Samzilla.”
“I don’t know why you’ve put off dinner with my mother, but I wanted to show you there’s more to this pack than her.” His shrug moved through my back. “Or me.”
The pack embraced me for one reason, and one reason only: Midas.
These people loved him. That much was clear. The gwyllgi I interacted with on the regular at the Faraday were enforcers. They looked to Midas for leadership, not comfort. Not fun. They acted more like employees. This—coming to the den—was meeting the family.
And since he wanted me to see this, to experience it, he must be closing in on my vulnerable spots.
“You owe me a secret.”
We had promised to exchange one every day, but we didn’t always remember. Between the witchborn fae and Natisha’s bargain, we had so much else on our minds it was hard not to let the small things slip.
Midas exhaled, warm across my nape. “I ate the last of the chicken wings.”
“That’s not a secret.” I elbowed him again for good measure. “You had sauce all over your muzzle.”
To hide the evidence of his crime, he had gone as far as to shift and gulp them down, bones and all.
“I also ate the last slice of tiramisu.”
“The horror,” I breathed. “You, sir, are a monster.”
“Now tell me your secret.”
“I prefer Coke to Pepsi.”
“That’s not a secret.”
“Neither is the disappearing act my food has learned since you moved in with me.”
We both tensed, and my stomach dropped into my feet.
Moved in sounded so…permanent. If he brushed it off as a sleepover, I didn’t know what I would do.
“I like living with you.” He pressed his lips to my throat. “I like sleeping with you.”
Heat curled through my gut, and my chest went tight. “I’ve noticed.”
Resting his forehead on my shoulder, he laughed softly. “I noticed you noticing.”
Hard to resist the invitation pressing against my backside every dusk.
Very hard.
Very, very hard.
Phew, it was getting hot out here.
“Thank you for this.” I leaned my cheek against the side of his head. “I needed it.”
Angling his chin, he spoke against my throat. “How did you know what to do? With the heart?”
The pleasant buzz from the brush of his mouth on my skin helped me keep my nerve. “Bishop.” From what I could tell, his stomach was cast iron. Mine? Not so much. “He sent me autopsy videos to watch.”
I had thrown up. A lot. A whole lot. It was necessary, though. I couldn’t afford to damage the hearts.
“I can’t talk about it more right now.” I swallowed the excess saliva pooling in my mouth.