“He says a wolf king afraid of a flying mop would make a very funny story for the next pack gathering,” I said without inflection.
Feral looked at Acorn for a long moment. “You wouldn’t do anything like that.”
No, but I wasn’t going to correct that impression.
Grumbling, he picked up the mop. “I’m sitting behind you.”
“That works.”
I climbed on first, settling my weight. The mop dipped when Feral got on behind me, his bulk nearly overloading the enchantment. I adjusted the spell with quick gestures, reinforcing the stability anchors. Acorn settled in my lap, his tail curled around my wrist, sending Feral a huff. As if he wasn’t terrified the entire ride here.
Feral’s arms wrapped around me, holding tight.
I focused very hard on making the mop lift off the ground. With a kick, I brought us up to head height. The mop responded better with Feral’s weight balanced behind mine, though it still handled like a drunken cart.
Keeping the pace slow, I threaded us through the trees, maintaining a low altitude.
His grip tightened every time I adjusted our height or guided the mop around a tree.
I said nothing.
The mop dipped unexpectedly, dropping us three feet before I caught it. Feral made a sound I’d never heard from him before, a growl mixed with something that might be mortal terror.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“I’m fine.” His arms tightened around my waist, pulling me back against his chest.
It felt much too nice to be held by him.
Finally, I steered us out of the tree line and into the clearing near our home.
Kirk stood near the tree housing the main hall. Maria and Tessa sparred nearby. At least a dozen pack members scattered throughout the space all stopped what they were doing the moment we appeared.
I brought us down, touching ground without crashing. Pride swelled in my chest.
Feral dismounted the mop and yanked on the hem of his tunic. He surveyed the pack with an expression that strongly implied silence would be greatly appreciated.
No one spoke.
Maria and Tessa exchanged a look.
Kirk’s face showed something complicated that wasn’t quite a smile but wasn’t not a smile either.
A teen working in the gardens made a snuffling-snorting noise. Feral’s gaze swung toward him. Color rose in the male’s face, and he dropped to his knees, frantically pulling at weeds.
I tucked the mop under my arm. “Thank you. You’re an adequate mop passenger.”
Feral scowled.
I smiled and headed for the stairs.
Behind us, the clearing exhaled.
Evening found me in the laboratory, writing up my findings. Feral had disappeared to deal with correspondence, leaving me alone with my samples and my thoughts.
Acorn settled beside my notebook, unusually quiet.
I kept working, making notes about duskburst placement patterns and possible correlations with the site. My mind wandered to the flowers on the table. The way Feral had turned back early because his wolf wouldn’t settle. His arms around me on the broom and how amazing it had felt to be held by him.
