“So it seems, because it—or they—didn’t attack.”
“So it seems,” he repeated, that grin ghosting his lips again. “I am so fucking tired, I can barely think straight.”
She burst out laughing, not expecting that admission, and especially not with the grin making his eyes twinkle.
“Me too,” she said, turning into him and trailing her fingers down his sides, flitting across his skin. “At one point, I had to stop myself from asking Steve if I could get a lift.”
He cupped her butt and pulled her closer. “I’d be good with finding a secluded corner, lying on my back, and letting you go to town.”
She closed her eyes as his lips trailed down her neck. “I’d be good with finding a secluded corner, lying on my back, spreading my legs, and letting you go to town.”
He growled against her neck, sucking on her skin. “I think I have just enough left in the tank to make that happen.”
“No big deal, boss, but I don’t think it’s the best place for that,” Steve said, just out of sight.
Charity felt Devon’s release of breath. “We can’t get to the Flush fast enough,” he murmured.
“Is this the part where you’re thinking about yourself and not me?” She pushed away from him with a smile, taking his hand.
His eyes were on fire as he stared at her, refusing to budge and head to the campsite. “Yes. I need to pound my love into you.”
“Pound it in? And here I didn’t think you were a hopeless romantic.”
“Pound it, bang it, fuck it—whatever you want to call it, it’s going to be hard and fast, and you will love every minute of it.”
Charity laughed delightedly, and thankfully, she was too low on energy for her magic to surge and ruin the moment. Small miracles.
The area Emery had led them to wasn’t large, but it was big enough to fit everyone comfortably. Devon found a patch of green weeds, laid down, and waited just long enough for Charity to push up beside him before he fell asleep. Charity followed soon after.* * *“Devon, wake up!”
Charity startled at the urgent whisper. Devon stirred beside her.
Penny leaned over him, her brown hair falling around her anxious face.
“Wake up,” she said again, shoving him.
His eyes snapped open and he sat up so fast that Charity rolled away.
“Nice,” she said.
“We’ve got company.” Penny motioned Devon to stand.
Charity was up a moment after him, noticing the tightness in his eyes, his shoulders bowed and his muscles tight before he could school his face into that mask of alpha confidence. Charity wondered if Roger always did the same thing.
Steve and Cole were waiting to the sides, and the rest of the shifters were rousing, most still in animal form. The big yeti tried to step in Charity’s way.
She slapped her palm to his chest and let loose a small surge of magic. No way was she letting him stop her. Cole staggered backward as though shoved by a four-hundred-pound man. Magic leaked out of Charity’s well, but Devon’s magic rushed in, light and clean and comforting, to smooth things out.
The dual-mages were geniuses, that was the bottom line. Charity only wished they’d done their trick sooner.
As Charity rounded the brambles near the broken bench, she heard, “I merely wish to speak with her. She’ll come to no harm, I can assure you.”
Fireworks went off in Charity’s middle. Hope flooded her.
Vlad had come, and he better have answers.Chapter Eighteen“Second, we have news.”
Romulus hesitated in glancing up from the architectural plans spread across his workstation. Soft light from the morning sun splashed onto his design. Spun-glass ornaments threw colored splotches around his desk, lending beauty to the chaos.
He breathed in fresh air from the many open windows before lifting his gaze. There was never a reason to rush when nature was offering up such a bounty.
Halvor, his assistant, stood in the doorway, his head tilted to the side, awaiting acknowledgement from a superior. His regal bearing displayed his excellent lineage and advanced training. Unlike normal, however, his right shoulder was raised ever so slightly, a tell that he was hard-pressed to disguise whenever troubling news conflicted his duties.
“What is it, Halvor? Is the First not pleased with her garden?”
“Not at all, Second. She expressed her immense pleasure.”
Romulus couldn’t help a smile. He sat back into his raised seat. Other than the High Elves, his mother was quite possibly the hardest to please in the entire Realm.
“Then what is this news that has you so out of sorts? Or did you have another fight with Jauni?”
Halvor’s head drooped slightly with embarrassment. The week before, he and his mate had had a truly exhilarating domestic squabble in the public park. Most of the community had enjoyed watching them, wondering who would force the other to submit, never a sure bet with two such masters. But they’d let the fight get out of control, destroying the tables for the communal cook-off. They’d had to reschedule the whole affair! Romulus had been forced to order Halvor to a week’s worth of plowing, a pastime his assistant detested.