Robin.
Toby stirs against me. "Robin's here. Downstairs."
"So?" I pull him closer, not ready to let go of this. Not ready to share him with the world yet.
"So he might be starting a fight with your pack." He's already scrambling out of bed, grabbing my shirt from the floor—my shirt, and something possessive curls in my chest at seeing him in it—and yanking on his jeans.
I sit up, scrubbing a hand over my face. "Your friend slapped me once. I think my pack can handle him."
"That's what I'm worried about."
He's out the door before I can argue. I grab my jeans and follow, not bothering with a shirt.
By the time I get downstairs, Toby's already at the bar, facing Robin. My pack is scattered around—Jason behind the counter, Ezra in a booth, the others pretending not to watch while absolutely watching.
Robin spots me and his smirk sharpens. He's got a duffel bag in his hands, and he's looking at Toby like he's cataloging every detail. Making sure he's okay.
I can respect that. Even if I don't like him.
"Hi honey," Robin says to Toby, sweet as poison. "Have a good night?"
Toby's face goes red. "Shut up."
"That good, huh? You've got bedhead. And is that his shirt? It's enormous on you."
"Robin."
"I'm just saying. It's a look."
I lean against the stair railing, watching. Toby's embarrassed but he's smiling, and Robin's teasing but his eyes are soft. They've known each other a long time. This is how they work.
"I brought you some clothes," Robin announces, loud enough for the whole bar to hear. "So that you never have to use that drawer again."
Ezra snorts. I deserve that.
Toby takes the bag, unzips it. His expression shifts as he looks through it—clothes, toiletries, everything he needs. Robin packed this hoping we'd make up. Believing in Toby even when Toby wasn't sure.
I can respect that too.
Toby drops the bag and pulls Robin into a hug. "You're the best."
"I know."
They hold on for a moment, and Robin murmurs something I can't hear. Then, very deliberately, he turns his head and presses a kiss to Toby's temple.
My lion surges forward.
A growl rumbles out of my chest before I can stop it. My hands clench at my sides. Mine. That's mine. Don't touch—
Robin's eyes flick to me over Toby's shoulder. His smirk turns razor-sharp, and he holds the kiss for another pointed second.
The little shit is doing this on purpose.
He finally lets Toby go, and Toby turns to look at me. I know what he sees—me at the bottom of the stairs, shirtless,arms crossed, eyes probably flickering gold. Looking like a possessive asshole.
I breathe.
Robin is testing me. Seeing if I'll snap, if I'll try to keep Toby away from the people he loves. Seeing if I'm going to be a problem.
