The mood in Wolf's Landing is strange over the next few days. Magister Orion has taken over Pip's care, but she's refusing to talk. The other Fae seem to hate her, which is strange considering Magister Orion's polite deference to the child—though it makes sense when I rember they aren't fond of the Fae King.
Lisa doesn't have any more situations where she wanders off, and Kellan is personally leading the scouts in search of the Mad Prince's presence. Aside from a dead, bloodless human two hours south, there's nothing to find.
While most of the wolves are ignorant to the issues surrounding Lisa, they've adapted to having a new Fae in our midst. Everyone's getting used to the strange events that seem prominent in my life, and the Fae have endeared themselves to a good portion of our shifters after their help in rebuilding the hospital.
Having Lucas back also boosts the morale of our pack, as it always does. It's as if the dream-eater's attack never happened. Everyone's moved on, but the peace is uneasy.
The mattress creaks as I shift for the hundredth ti tonight, punching my pillow into submission. Not that it helps. My mind races with too many thoughts, each one more urgent than the last.
Lucas's arm drapes over my side, heavy and warm. His steady breathing tickles my neck, and I envy how peacefully he sleeps.
Can't sleep? Selene's voice whispers.
"No." I stare at the wall, counting the shadows cast by moonlight through our window. "Too much happening."
You should rest. Tomorrow—
"I know."
Tomorrow Clayton arrives. Tomorrow we need to figure out what's wrong with Lisa. Tomorrow we need to deal with Pip. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.
The dream-eater still lies unconscious in our custody. No one knows what to do with it. And sowhere out there, the Mad Prince lurks. And we haven't even touched the issues of the New Order and our lives moving forward. Sotis, it would be nice to be a pack of ostriches instead of wolves.
Lucas shifts again, pulling closer. His nose nuzzles my hair, and for a mont, I think he's awake. But his breathing remains deep and even.
Your thoughts are too loud, Grimoire complains.
"Then stop listening to them."
The shadows on the wall blur as my eyes water from exhaustion. I should sleep. I need to sleep. But every ti I close my eyes, I see Ivy's face. I imagine what it must have felt like, being consud by that thing. Did she know what was happening? Did she suffer?
Stop. This path leads nowhere good. You need sleep.
Lucas' arm tightens around , and this ti I know he's awake. He doesn't speak, just holds closer, his chest pressed against my back.
I trace my fingers along his arm, following the familiar contours of muscle and sinew. His skin is hot against mine, a reminder of the fire that burns within all wolves. All wolves except .
"Sleep," he murmurs into my hair.
"I'm trying."
His thumb strokes my hip in slow circles. "No, you're thinking. There's a difference."
The moonlight shifts, casting new shadows on the wall. I watch them dance, trying to empty my mind. Lucas' steady heartbeat thrums against my back, a rhythm that usually lulls to sleep. Tonight, though, even that isn't enough.
His hand finds mine, intertwining our fingers. He doesn't ask what's wrong. He doesn't need to. The bond between us pulses.
"Need help falling asleep?" Lucas' voice rumbles against my neck, his breath warm on my skin.
A soft laugh escapes . "That isn't a sleeping aid."
"No?" His lips brush my shoulder. "Always works for ."
"That's because you're the one who falls asleep right after."
His chest vibrates with silent laughter. "Not true."
"Really?" I turn in his arms to face him. Even in the darkness, his golden eyes catch what little moonlight filters through our window. "Rember last week?" Or was it two weeks ago?
"I was tired."
"You snored."
"Wolves don't snore."
"You do." My fingers trace the stubble along his jaw. "Like a chainsaw."
His hand slides up my back. "You're making that up."
"Ask Kellan. He heard you from three cabins away."
"Now I know you're lying." He captures my south-wandering hand and presses a kiss to my palm. "Kellan's cabin is practically on the other side of Wolf's Landing."
That's not true, either, but I laugh. "The wind was favorable."
"The wind." His tone drips with amusent. "Of course."
If you two are quite finished, Grimoire grumbles, so of us are trying to rest.
"Then stop eavesdropping," I whisper.
I wouldn't have to if you'd sleep.
Lucas' tongue flicks out, tracing the lines of my palm. "What did she say?"
"It was Grimoire. He said he wouldn't need to hear any of it if we would go to sleep."
His tongue slides between my fingers, and my breath shortens. A familiar tingling tightens my nerve endings, and I squeeze my thighs together, trying—and failing—to pull my mind out of the gutter.
Though, better there than where it was, I guess.
"He has a point," Lucas murmurs, his breath warm and wet against my fingers.
"Traitor."
"Guilty." His lips find mine in the darkness, but the pecks are soft and sweet. "But I'm your traitor."
"Sounds like you want to be punished," I tease, snuggling a little closer. His erection is hard against my thigh, and I press my leg against it.
Lucas pauses, and I feel his muscles tense under my palm. "Fascinating thought. I'm open to spicing up our sex life."
Heat floods my face, and I imdiately yank my leg back down while smacking at his chest. "That's not what I ant!"
"No?" His fingers trail up my spine, under my shirt, leaving to shiver. "Because I distinctly heard—"
"Stop." I press my face into his shoulder, wishing the darkness could swallow whole. "I was joking."
"Were you?" His chest rumbles with silent laughter. "Because I've been a very bad wolf."
"Lucas!"
"What? I have. Just ask Kellan. I snore, rember?"
"You're impossible." But I can't help the smile tugging at my lips.
"Impossibly handso? Charming? Devilishly attractive?"
"Devilishly full of yourself."
His hand slides lower. "I can think of better things to be full of."
"Oh, my God." I try to wiggle away, but his arm locks around my waist. "You did not just say that."
"I did. And I'll say worse if you keep squirming like that."
For the love of all that's holy, Grimoire groans, please stop.
"Then leave!" I hiss into the darkness.
"I didn't say anything," Lucas says, his chest rumbling with a soft laugh.
"Not you. Grimoire."
"Ah." His lips find my ear. "Is he still listening?"
"Unfortunately."
I wouldn't have to if you two would behave.
"Throw him outside," my mate murmurs, his hand sliding over the curve of my ass. "We don't need an audience."
Just put in the other room.
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