I scoff. “What arseholes.”
Wait. Am I one of those arseholes?
“Gunnar, I don’t want you to feel as if you’re breaking your promise to your mate. If this arrangement of ours is too much for you, then we can always call it off.”
Gunnar shakes his head. “It’s not. So long as you understand this is a temporary arrangement and not to expect anything more from it.”
Fine by me. Sure, I’ve dreamed about meeting my fated mate, the one destined for me, but I can reject the bond just as Gunnar did. It will hurt, and I’ll never find someone who speaks to my heart the way he does. Surely I’ll move on, though. Right?
“Understood,” I say, lifting my mead.
He clinks our bottles together and drinks.
“Now, we need to have a story to tell my family. They’re going to ask all sorts of questions. They’ll want to hear all about our engagement. Which one of us proposed?”
“A proposal?”
Oh, right. Marriages are usually arranged in this timeline, more of a business transaction than anything else. “It’s whereone person asks the other to marry them, usually in some romantic setting.”
“Oh. Well, it happened on this very ship, then. What’s more romantic than the sea?”
“Literally anything,” I mutter. “Okay. And which one of us proposed?”
Gunnar shrugs. “You did. You know more about these proposals than I do.”
I give him a once-over. “I can think of worse things than getting on my knee for you…”
Gunnar chokes on his mead.
This may be more fun than I thought.
Chapter 5
Gunnar
Although I’ve been toArlo’s house several times already, I cannot say I was ever nervous like I am today. Arlo told his parents about our engagement, and they invited me over for lunch.
I’d caught glimpses of his family from my position in the woods. Arlo’s father had always looked at me with a disgusted curl to his lip. His mother had seemed worried. His grandmother had attempted to speak to me through the wards, but I’d had no interest in shifting to my human form to exchange words.
It will be interesting to formally meet them.
When we arrive in Arlo’s time, it’s through the Time Traveler Agency in a city called London. It’s a while before we’re able to leave. I have to get my photo taken and fill out a long form with far too many questions. After some time, however, I’m given a thing called an Eye-D and approval to travel so long as I have Arlo with me when I do. Even in London, the TTA is still wary of me.
“What a pain,” I grumble as we finally step out onto the rainy streets of the city. Whenever I’d traveled here before, I’d always come through a portal in a lake a few miles from Arlo’s home. So it’s quite a shock to see the streets are full of humans carrying shields over their heads to deflect the rain. Countless smells assault my nose, some more pleasant than others. I catch snatches of conversation before they’re drowned out by the honking of those metal things. Cars, I believe Anders calls them. He always tells stories about his life in this time when he visits.
“Hello, earth to Gunnar! Can I see your ID?” Arlo asks. I show it to him, and he snorts. “Oh goddess. There’s this thing called smiling. Have you ever heard of it?”
“I don’t smile at annoying people.”
Arlo unlocks his car, motioning for me to get into the seat beside him. Once I’m seated, Arlo suddenly leans into my space. “Sorry, got to get you buckled up, stud.”
I squeeze my hands into fists, trying to pretend that I don’t want to lean down and sniff his golden hair. He smells as soothing and delectable as always.
Something clicks. There’s a strap across my chest. “What’s this for?”
“It’s a seat belt. If we get in an accident, it could save your life.”
I don’t like how tight it is. “I’ll be fine. I heal quickly.” I’m more concerned about Arlo. Witches don’t heal the way wolves do.
