“Oh no,” he muttered.
Before I could ask, another thump sounded behind me, followed by the very distinctslorpof something large, damp, and overly confident hauling itself onto the roof.
Ribbon.
The massive, boulder-sized mountain toad—who most definitely seemed to begrowingsince I’d met him—emerged over the side of the building like an unstoppable, slightly manic force of nature. His gray-green fur shimmered with dew, and his golden eyes fixed on me with blatant accusation.
“Hi, Ribbon,” I said weakly.
He blinked, slowly and judgingly. Then he hopped straight toward us—one tremendous, floor-shaking bounce—and slammed his entire body right between me and Savla.
I stumbled back, catching myself on a stool. “Ribbon!”
Savla sighed, wiping his hands. “He’s being dramatic.”
The toad huffed, which in his language—I was certain—translated tohow dare you both come up here to be alone together and leave me behind.
Then he pressed his massive head into Savla’s side and then mine, rubbing himself against us in a way that told me heneverwanted that to ever happen again.
“Oh,” I said slowly. “He’s so upset. I’m sorry, sweet boy.”
Savla’s ears flushed. Just barely. “He likes routine.”
“He likesyou,” I corrected.
“And you,” he said with a low whisper that filled me with pleasure. It was nice, being liked by one of these males. Even if itwasthe furry, smaller one.
Ribbon croaked loudly, making sure I heard the subtext.
Never again.
I planted my hands on my hips. “He has to be hereeverytime we hang out.”
Ribbon shuffled closer to me, puffing up like a possessive marshmallow. Savla reached out and absently scratched the top of Ribbon’s huge head. The toad melted, eyes half-closing, annoyed fury dissolving into bliss. Watching them was unfairly adorable.
And also? I was doomed. Completely, absolutelydoomed.
Because Savla Everlock—stoic, quiet, emotionally barricaded Savla—looked at his ridiculous pet toad with soft affection, then glanced at me over Ribbon’s head.
“Sorry if he’s a little too much sometimes,” he said, almost sheepish. “He’s… protective of us.”
Something warm and dizzy unfurled inside me.
“I don’t mind,” I said softly.
Because if he could look at anyone—even a toad—with that kind of gentleness… Yep. I was gone.
And fate, the bond, the universe—whatever had tied the two of us together—knew it.
Chapter 16
Savla
Hanna offered to carry one of the jars of finished pigment as we packed up, and I almost said no. Instinct, maybe. Or self-preservation.
But when she smiled up at me—soft and hopeful—I handed it to her before my brain caught up. The workshop felt too warm after that.
When she reached the stairs, I hesitated a moment too long before following. Ribbon, traitor that he was, went ahead of me, wedging half his massive body through the door before deciding to simply… jump. The ground shook when he landed.
