Page 32 of The Fanged One

"Don't eat all of them," she grumbled.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Arne said as Layla passed a bun over.

Tor was watching his mate, his wolf in his eyes. "What about the guy you dated?"

Ciara only stuffed more of her bun into her mouth so she couldn't reply. Layla dropped onto the stool beside Linnea and swung an arm around her shoulders. "Morning, sis."

"Making trouble already, I see," Linnea commented.

"Just protecting my mate," Layla replied sweetly. She tickled the beard rash on Linnea's neck before glancing around her at Fenris. "Hey, big guy, you sleep okay?"

"Yes," Fenris replied and looked at Arne. "I want to try one of those buns."

"Hmm, you definitely look like a man who loves buns," Layla commented, and Linnea pinched her. "Because you're so big and must have an appetite to match."

Fenris nodded. "I do."

Tor put a full plate down in front of him before wrestling the bag off Arne and putting a bun on the side. "Dig in. You're going to need it. Von sounds high energy already."

"Imogen sent photos this morning," Layla told Linnea, pulling her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. "Kian hasn't moved since Elise put the baby on his chest. Apparently, he's refusing to be relieved of Daddy Duty."

"Show," Ciara demanded, crowding in on the other side of Layla.

The photo was of Kian slumped in a deep armchair beside a hearth, one of his big hands making a careful, splayed cradle across the back of a small baby lying against his chest. A tiny fist curled into the open neck of Kian's shirt, and a bright halo of red hair came out of the top of the blanket. Both of their mouths were open in the same dead-asleep slack way.

"Oh my gods," Linnea breathed.

"He hasn't slept in something like thirty hours," Layla said fondly. "Oberon tried to take the baby once so Kian could go and have a nap, and Kian growled at him. So they've all decided to let it ride."

"Adorable," Ciara said with a grin. "Look at his little hand."

"Imogen says the rest of the fae are still partying. They have been celebrating in the courtyard for two days. Bridget and Charlotte threatened them with a silencing spell this morning so the baby could nap."

"Have they named him?" Linnea asked.

"Still no." Layla turned the screen back to herself, scrolled, and grinned. "Quinn has put a real campaign together for Vote for Trevor. She's printed signs."

"She has not," Tor said, handing out more full plates.

"She totally has. She emailed me a mock-up this morning."

Arne moved Ciara out of the way and sat down on Layla's other side with a plate piled high enough that she made a small mocking sound. "What? I'm a growing prince."

"You are like over four hundred years old," Layla said.

"And still growing. Besides, you wore me out last⁠—"

"Gods, stop. I'm eating," Linnea complained, scooping eggs in her mouth. Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her flannel pants. She fished it out one-handed below the lip of the counter, expecting Von, and instead got her chat with Layla and Ciara.

Layla : Nice stubble rash, you hussy. WHAT HAPPENED WITH FENRIS?

Linnea choked on her egg. She looked sideways, but Layla was eating a bun with one hand and thumbing her phone with the other.

"I wonder if Maria won the drinking contest," she said, the picture of guilty innocence.

Linnea looked across the counter. Ciara had her phone in her lap and a small wolfish smile. "Let me find out, sis."

Linnea typed back with both thumbs under the counter. I'll tell you later. Eat your breakfast so I can eat mine.