The arrow.
Apparently he’s not as alright as he claimed he was.
“Callum,” I admonish, and it comes out a little more breathlessly than I intended.
Instead of being properly scolded for lying about his injury, a satisfied rumble breaks in Callum’s chest.
“Goddess, I like it.”
“Like what?”
“When you say my name.” He leans down and brushes his lips against mine once, twice, nearly distracting me into forgetting.
I place both my hands on his chest and put some distance between us.
“I don’t care how much you like it, you’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” He opens his mouth to speak, and I raise a hand. He takes it, brings it to his lips and kisses that, too.
My stomach turns warm and swimmy, but at least he’s not arguing anymore. I shake off his grasp and make myself focus.
“We’re going to the human realm.”
He arches a brow. “Why?”
“Because I’ve got a good feeling theheartis actually a human. And I’ve also got something that will help what I’m sure is a pretty spectacular bruise under your armor.”
He sighs, like I’m making a big deal out of nothing, but softens it when the corners of his lips quirk up again.
“Alright.” He takes my hand. “We’ll go to the human realm.”
It’s… nice. Holding his hand.
Especially nice now that we don’t have the threat of mortal injury hanging over our heads, making us do things we wouldn’t otherwise do.
When I give his hand a squeeze, he returns it. And when I lead him toward the Veil, he follows, the two of us off to wherever this hunt will take us next.
24
Callum
I can still taste her.
My attention should be on the surrounding woods. I should be scanning the dark forest for any hint of a threat, ready to spring into action and defend my mate from anything that would hurt her.
Instead, I can’t make myself stop touching her.
Fingertips against her lower back. The edge of my wing at her shoulder. The press of our bodies as we step between trees, making our way through this human forest to where Seren said sheparked her car. Whatever that means.
To be fair, she doesn’t seem tense or watchful. She doesn’t seem like she’s waiting for some beast or curse-wielding Crescent witch to spring out at us from the woods.
“Why aren’t there any witches here to meet us, like last time?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
Seren chuckles. “Because I’m breaking their wards.”
Her flippant comment gives me momentary alarm, and I scan the woods again. “Won’t that make the coven angry?”
