“Just over two hundred years old.” He shrugged. The way someone might say twenty-six.
I blinked. Paused, blink again. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Way to drop that on me.” I turned to Solomon. “If two hundred is the youngest, how old are you?”
“Almost five hundred. In less than a decade.”
My mouth dropped open. I closed it and opened it again. My brain attempted to process a number that large attached to a man who looked thirty and blushed when I kissed his cheek.
“Lucian is the oldest,” Percy added, studying the ceiling as if he’s just announcing the weather. “Just turned five hundred recently.”
I massaged my temples with both hands and squeezed my eyes shut. “I did say I preferred older guys, but not this old.”
“We’re actually middle-aged for lycans,” Solomon said. Matter-of-fact, no trace of humor. “Percy is the equivalent of someone in his late twenties.”
I dropped my hands and stared at him. “You’re kidding.”
Genuine confusion crossed his features. His brow furrowed at my sarcasm, completely unable to register it, and the earnestness on his face sent a burst of warmth through my chest that I was not equipped to handle at this hour.
“No. It’s true.”
I laughed.
Not because it was funny but because Solomon delivered supernatural revelations so seriously, and his complete inability to detect sarcasm was such an endearing thing.
Percy leaned forward in the armchair. “You should see when Lucian first tried to use a smartphone. He types with one finger.”
“He does not.”
“Ask him.” Percy’s dimples deepened. “He also Googled ‘how to make a human woman like you’ two weeks after we found your shop. Solomon caught him and he closed the laptop so fast he cracked the screen.”
My jaw dropped. I looked at Solomon for confirmation because this fool might be making it up.
Solomon’s expression didn’t change, but his mouth twitched. “I replaced the screen. He doesn’t know I saw.”
A laugh tore out of me so hard my ribs ached.
The image of Lucian Valdris, five-hundred-year-old lycan, hunched over a laptop Googling dating advice while trying to hide them, was the single greatest mental image my brain had ever produced.
Suddenly, a stomach growled. Loud, breaking through the laughter.
“Oops, that’s me.” Percy patted his abdomen and stood. “Just gonna eat. You guys want anything?”
We both said no. Percy disappeared into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder that he’d search the fridge, order, or cook. Whichever inspiration struck.
God help us if it was the third option.
Quiet settled over the living room.
The fire crackled. Rain streaked down the windows, blurring the forest into a watercolor. I watched the flames dance and let the warmth sink into my bones while the dream pushed to the surface again. Solomon’s chest beneath my cheek. His lips on my knuckles. The rain outside, identical to the rain falling now.
“I remembered being in this situation,” I said. Softer than I planned.
Solomon turned his head. Those pale silver eyes found mine, and the guarded stillness that usually lived in his expression cracked open.
“The rain,” I continued. “A power outage. Me calling you a...”
“Giant teddy bear.” He finished the sentence. His voice dropped low.
