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He laughed and slid the beer across the bar. “You should be. The High Priestess doesn’t do anything without calculation.”

“Probably,” I agreed. “But Carolina thinks she’s actually trying to build something with us. A relationship, maybe. A strange, formal relationship involving seven forks and the occasional threat of magical dismemberment, but still.”

“And you? What do you think?”

I took a drink while I considered the question.

“She lifted a curse she swore would never break. She’s had dinner with us enough times that we no longer require written emergency procedures before dessert. She gave me a protection charm for Carolina even though she didn’t have to.” I set down my glass. “I think she’s trying. That’s enough for me.”

Dean studied me for a moment before nodding. “You’ve changed.”

“I’ve become devastatingly mature.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Rude.”

“When you arrived, you wouldn’t have given her that much credit.”

“When I arrived, I thought I deserved everything that happened to me.” I stared into my beer. “It took me a while to understand that grace had nothing to do with perfection.”

Dean’s expression softened. “Carolina?”

“Carolina,” I confirmed. “And Mack. Even you, you old bastard. You let me sit here through every humiliation, and you never looked at me with pity.”

“I looked at you with amusement plenty of times.”

“Amusement I could handle. Pity would have broken me.”

He raised his glass. “To no more pity.”

I clinked mine against it. “To no more pity.”

I took another drink, watching Dean return to polishing a glass that had already been clean when I walked in.

“What about you?”

His hand stopped. “What about me?”

“You stand behind this bar dispensing relationship advice like an emotionally constipated bartender version of Cupid. Don’t you have anyone special in your life?”

“No.”

The answer came too quickly.

“No one?” I asked. “Ever?”

Dean resumed polishing the glass. “Some of us are perfectly capable of functioning without a mate.”

“I didn’t say mate.”

“You were going to.”

I smiled into my beer. “You’ve gotten disturbingly good at predicting me.”

“You’re not complicated.”

“Says the wolf who just reacted to a basic question like I asked where he buried the bodies.”