Or the direction where she tried to figure out what the hell Corin Blackburn’s deal was.
She clenched her fists. She was not going to figure out what Corin Blackburn’s deal was. She didn’t care—
Okay, that was a lie. She cared too much.
But it was none of her business. And it wouldn’t change anything. Whatever reason he had for not claiming her as his mate—and god, she wished her body didn’t light up at the thought—that was the decision he’d made.
And that was final.
Except maybe they would fuck a few times before he left, because … reasons?
Argh.
Tomás was full of stories that evening. She even managed to translate some of them from his excited toddler-babble, all misplaced consonants and waves offun happy timesandjumping flying GRRR.
It was normal for shifter children to communicate telepathically, Maya reminded herself. Corin told her that. All this was … normal.
Even if it did make her feel a bit dizzy, managing her own confused feelings alongside her son’s giddy joy.
“At least I know I’m doing something right if you’re this happy,” she said, booping him on the nose. He grinned up at her. “Or Angie White is. Either way.”
He didn’t even fight bedtime too badly. She only needed to change her top after his bath, not her entire outfit. And then, a stroke of singular genius as he eyed the railing around his cribwith the look of a toddler who knows no barrier can withstand tiny dragon wings and claws: remembering Corin’s line about very brave dragons showing off their hoards, she pulled out the battered suitcase of treasure and oohed and ahhed over the priceless trinkets until Tomás’s eyes finally drifted closed.
It was like magic.
Maya awarded herself a satisfactory mark on that particular mom key performance indicator and was halfway down the stairs again when someone knocked softly at the door.
She opened it and found Felicity on the other side.
Maya narrowed her eyes at her. “Did you use your magic to wait until you knew Tomás was asleep?”
“It would be very sad if you had to murder me on sight because I interrupted you putting Tomás down to bed.” Felicity pulled her into a hug and slipped inside. “Coffee? No, you sleep badly enough as it is. Hot chocolate?”
“If you’re magicking it up, sure.” Maya’s eyes widened as Felicity grinned and sauntered through to the kitchen, waggling her fingers like she was casting a spell. “Seriously? I was kidding!”
“What’s the point in having magic if I can’t use it to melt marshmallows the perfect amount, huh?”
“I thought your powers were for protecting Hideaway.”
“Tonight, I’m protecting you from the terrors of under-caffeination. Wait, no, under-chocolatation. Which is definitely a thing.” Felicity glanced at the sink. “Though, ah, given the number of mugs in here, maybe you’re not in danger of under-caffeination after all. I think I’m beginning to see why you have trouble getting to sleep.”
“How do you know I’m not sleeping well?” Anxiety tugged at her nerves. Did Felicity’s magic tell her somehow? Was it a shifter thing, and Apollo had told her? Did everyone know she wasn’t coping?
“Other than the ginormous bags under your eyes and the fact that you’ve already yawned twice during this conversation?”
“I haven’t yawned—” she started to say, and immediately yawned. “Fine. I surrender. Make me some delicious hot chocolate laced with magical sleeping pills.”
“Will marshmallows do?”
“I don’t have any marshmallows. Tomás has a magical marshmallow-radar. I can’t keep them in the house or he’ll eat so many he turns into one.”
“We’ll have to keep this quiet, then.” Felicity pulled a bag of marshmallows, and a block of actual chocolate, out of her bag like she was doing a striptease. “And—go, magic!”
Maya slumped down at the table, more than happy to let Felicity take over the kitchen because—well, this wasFelicity.She trusted her. She trusted her magic, the golden flower blossoms that worked in sync with Apollo’s shimmering sparks to keep the town safe and, apparently, to make hot drinks. She even trusted her to see all her dirty dishes.
Corin’s words rushed through her head like a high-tide wave.
You must want to know why I never—
