scrubs, commenting softly, “You left work because of me. The carpool?”
“Nothing to worry about,” Frankie assured him. “Lorenzo is on it. I came because you needed me. I
could feel your pain. I’ll always be here for you, Obe.”
“Always?”
“Always,” Frankie promised with a kiss.
“Even if I want to bail on my own party?” Snod grumbled.
“Mmm, I dunno,” Frankie sighed dramatically. “Your brother can be kind of forceful. We should
probably go. At least for a bit. Eat some cake, open some presents...”
Snod groaned lightly in protest.
“If you really don’t want to go, we won’t,” Frankie swore, squeezing Snod’s hand.
“No,” Snod sighed. “Athaliah worked so hard, it’s important. We’ll go... but until it’s actually time...
can we... can we just... could we...?”
“Cuddle?”
“Yes,” Snod breathed softly.
“Whatever you want, birthday boy.”
Chapter Twenty
Snod drifted in and out of sleep, waking only to pull Frankie closer if he felt like he had strayed too
far from his embrace. His body felt as if he had been out hunting for days, exhausted to the marrow
and he was grateful for the chance to rest.
There was a giddy and ridiculous voice in his head that couldn’t believe what he had done. He had
told off Father Sanguis, an archbishop of the Order and a member of the council. He had refused to
complete his mission, denied his terrible punishment, and it had been positively liberating.
Decades of training had been cast aside, and the shackles of hatred that had kept him bound for so
long had finally been shattered. He was free, completely and totally, of any obligation to the Order.
A trickle of fear still managed to drip into his joyful reverie, stirring and burying his face against
Frankie’s chest with a soft sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Frankie asked, his fingers gently stroking through Snod’s hair.
“The Order,” Snod replied. “You know they may come after me. Maybe even Athaliah.” He sighed
again. “They don’t care for people outside of their ranks knowing about their operations, especially
as intimately as I do having been a hunter.”
