But my soul was telling me… Icouldbe.
Holy shit. Was that what this magic was?
Without another thought, I rushed over to Anton and Lanche and placed my hand on Anton’s forearm. “Let go, Anton. Please.”
Anton glanced at me, then looked back at Lanche. “Not until he explains himself.”
“Then maybe loosen your hold on his neck so he can talk.” For fuck’s sake, duh. What a butt. Plus, I was feeling a little… protective of the big snow yeti, and I was afraid Anton was hurting him.
Anton ignored me completely. “What did you do to Dain?”
Lanche glanced at me and whispered, “I-I-I gave him my… my icicle.”
What? What the hell did that even mean? His icicle? I didn’t understand.
But apparently it meant something to Anton because he loosened his hold a tiny bit. “Why?” It came out like a hissing growl, angry and a little scary.
Lanche tried to speak, but no words came out.
Anton growled again. “That’s something you give away when you’re in a committed relationship. You barely know Dain. Why would you do this to him?”
Lanche’s brow furrowed. “He… he’s… he…”
Anton didn’t have the patience for Lanche’s spluttering, and he shook him a little. “You’ve trapped him.”
Lanche tried to shake his head but ended up choking from the movement before he finally managed a sentence. “I would never. He’s not trapped with me.”
Anton searched his eyes while I stood there and stared at the two of them, confused, annoyed, pissed off, and sick of the whole thing.
And wishing my boss would let go of the poor guy before my werewolf side decided he had a problem with Anton touching him.
“Then why?”
Lanche sucked in a deep breath. “I… he… I want… he’s my… my viramore.”
A gasp fell from my lips, and I grabbed my chest in shock, staring at this man, this yeti, this practical stranger. How in the world could he think I was his viramore?
We barely knew each other. He barely spoke two words to me every time he came to the store. He was skittish and shy and always flushed when I managed to talk to him. Why would he think we were viramores?
And why the hell did he give me a chunk of ice filled with magic that I couldn’t seem to put down? And how was it still so solid? It wasn’t melting at all, despite being in a warm room with my warm hand wrapped around it. My hand wasn’t even wet.
Weird.
Before anyone could react to that news, the breakroom door burst open, and Oakley and Roman rushed through. They looked out of breath, and Oakley asked loudly, “What’d we miss?”
Jed started blabbing—of fucking course—but I ignored him and stared at Lanche for a long moment before I quietly asked, “You really think we’re viramores?”
He nodded. “I know we are.”
He said it with so much surety that I almost believed it myself.
But I wasn’t sure.
Did I like the guy? Sure, what I knew of him, at least.
Was I attracted to him? Duh. I had eyes, didn’t I?
But were our souls connected?
