“Nah, only when my girlfriend nearly drains me dry.”
He chuckles as he tips the bag back.
Girlfriend.
That’s the first time anyone’s ever called me that. I mean, really called me that, and meant it. I’d never considered how it would make me feel. Mostly because I’ve never concerned myself with notions of romance. It always seemed like an impossible task—finding someone to meet my needs. Someone who wasn’t afraid of me.
But as the word echoes in my head, a warm, buttery taste blossoms on the back of my tongue, like honey and mint, and I think I like it.
I haul myself up onto the edge of the island and watch as Elliot empties three more bags of chips.
“Did I take too much?” I ask when it becomes evident that I will need to restock the house in its entirety.
Elliot’s head falls back, and he groans at the ceiling.
“You know, every time you ask me that, I die a little inside. Do you want me to die, princess?”
He presses a hand to his chest in mock offense, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“No.”
“Are you sure? You can be honest, I won’t be mad.”
I’m silent for a moment as I pretend to contemplate my answer. But eventually I can’t keep the smile off my face, and I confess.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Then stop asking,” he says, chucking a chip at me.
When he cannot find any more suitable snacks, and he finally accepts that he has, in fact, eaten my brother out of house and home, we decide to drag ourselves back to reality.
It’s more difficult than I thought it’d be. There’s a quiet voice in my mind telling me to turn and sprint in the opposite direction. But I chalk it up to nerves. It isn’t every day you accept the love the fates have given you. Still, it takes all my energy to resist fleeing as we make our way up the Crescent House steps.
Elliot passes a quiet greeting to a few of the wolves idling on the porch, but they quickly drop their eyes, muttering amongst themselves as we pass.
“What’s their problem?” I ask.
“Probably scared I’ll dock them.”
We both chuckle as he pulls me under his arm. But the brief moment of joy is just that—brief.
As we step into the foyer, Elliot stiffens, and I stop short as I spot Dame standing in the entryway to the den, eyes downcast, tail limp.
The look on his face is familiar. The last time I saw it, Kitty had just been carted off to the infirmary after getting a little too experimental in the potions lab.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, but Elliot’s already moving.
“Iris,” he says, turning to hold my face in his hands. “I want you to go home.”
“What? Why? What’s going on?”
“Don’t worry about it. Everything’s going to be okay. Just go home, alright? I’ll call you.”
“Call me? What’s?—”
“Elliot.” Dame’s voice is grim as he says his name, and I start to sweat as I recognize the pain in his voice.
“Yeah, Dame,” Elliot barks. “I know. Just give me a second. Promise me you’ll go home, baby. Please?”
