Now here he was sipping coffee and serving sass. My chest did this weird squeeze thing. Probably indigestion from jealousy and hash browns.
For seven whole days now, I’d watched Seri orbit around Casimir like a worried little moon, her hair trailing behind her as she fluttered from one task to the next. Half-starved for her attention, I’d resorted to increasingly ridiculous antics: Balancing spoons on my nose at dinner, doing handstands in the living room, letting Brumous use me as a chew toy. All for the fleeting glance of her gray eyes.
Not that I begrudged Cas the attention. Dude had been through hell, trapped in Amabel’s illusion where he watched us all die while unable to stop it. Even I, master of inappropriate humor, couldn’t joke aboutthatparticular flavor of torture.
Still, a man has needs. Specifically, the need to have his beloved actuallylookat him for more than three consecutive seconds outside of shaking the sheets with him at night.
“I swear, if you throw that grape at me, I will end you,” Koa muttered, not even looking up from the book he was reading. Supernatural hearing could be such a buzzkill sometimes.
“Aw.” I reluctantly lowered my ammunition. “You’re just mad because I’ve already nailed you twice without you noticing.”
“I noticed. I was being mature.” He turned a page with deliberate slowness, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Unlike some redheaded menaces I could mention.”
Cas snorted, sipping his coffee with his free hand. His other hand, predictably, held Seri’s, thumb pressed tight to her radial pulse. He’d been doing that constantly since he woke up properly a week ago, a little reassurance that she was still there, still real, still alive. He did the same thing to Ko and me sometimes in the middle of the night.
“Maturity is overrated,” I declared, popping the grape into my mouth instead. “Just ask Brumous.”
On cue, the dire wolf pup looked up from the corner where he’d been relegated, his eyes bright with canine optimism.
Food? Alpha Fun, food?His thoughts skittered through my mind so easily now, simple and unfiltered just like him.
“See? Pure wisdom.” I tossed him a piece of sausage, which he snapped out of the air with impressive precision. Boy was turning into an excellent hunter as well as guardian for our girl.
Seri smiled fondly at the pup, then returned her focus to Cas.
“Are yousureyou’re feeling better? You barely touched your eggs.” Her voice carried that delicate worried note that had become all too familiar lately.
“I’m fine, my love.” Cas’ green eyes softened in that way that meant he was melting inside. Only ever for her. “I ate three helpings of sausage and seven waffles plus fruit. I’m stuffed.”
“He’s been saying he’s fine for three days, beloved.” Ko finally gave up and marked his place in the book. “Maybe we should start believing him?”
“Careful, bro.” I leaned back in my chair, balancing it on two legs. “That sounded dangerously close to optimism. We might need to check you for fever next.”
Seri shot me a look of half exasperation, half amusement, and I nearly toppled over in my eagerness to soak up that precious attention. Pathetic? Maybe. But when you’ve spent a week being the equivalent of scenic wallpaper while your beloved dotes on your brother, you take what you can get.
“The memory’s still vivid, but I can differentiate reality now.” Cas’ free hand snatched the butter knife from my place setting. Fast as lightning, he flipped the blade and drove it quivering into the table between Koa’s splayed fingers. “See? I’m fine.”
“Not unscathed, but operational.” Ko reached across the table and clasped Cas’ shoulder firmly.
“Of course he’s operational!” I forced lightness back into the conversation like I always did when things got too heavy. “He’sCasimir fucking Cimmerian!”
Seri’s hands flew to her hips, white sundress fluttering like an outraged cloud.
“That’s not funny! What if you’d—”
“Missed?” Koa plucked the vibrating knife free, examining the edge. “He’s a Cimmerian. We don’t miss, baby.” He tossed the blade hilt-first to me. “Well. Except Zane that one time in Calgary.”
“Low blow, Koko. That moose came outta nowhere.”
I balanced the knife on my fingertip, letting it catch sunlight in prismatic flares. Casimir’s eyes tracked the reflections, alert and present. Good.
Then Seri’s pout hit me like a scatter shot of adorable. That bottom lip jutting out simplybeggedme to suck it off of her lips. I gripped my coffee mug a little tighter, trying not to broadcast exactly how that expression affected me, but my heart was currently doing its best impression of a death metal drummer.
“I suppose,” she conceded reluctantly. “But I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard, Simmy.”
“Says the woman who shadow-walked covered in injuries a little over a month ago,” I reminded her, earning a glare that probably would have incinerated me if she’d had her magic.
“That was different.”
