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“Uh.” Sam hesitated to bring it up, but he just couldn’t keep silent on this. It was math, for goddess’ sake! “You do realize that one-eighth is 12.5%?”
“What? No. You’re just messing with me. That can’t be right. That’s—is it? No. Wait. A hundred divided by eight is…. 12.5. No!”
She jumped up and began pacing back and forth.
Sam, along with everyone else at the dining room table, turned to watch as she paced and counted on her fingers, muttering numbers under her breath, before finally throwing her arms wide and shouting at the floor, “It’s too much math, damnit. I have to stop before my head explodes. Besides, who cares about the math? Math sucks!” She let out a huff, then stomped back to the table.
“What matters,” she said as she yanked her chair out and sat again, “are the little devils we would create. They’d be little demon-monsters constantly shifting into weird, little winged wolves and casting spells.”
“Actually, that sounds pretty cool,” Max said.
“Yeah,” Karl said. “Flying wolves? Who wouldn’t want that?”
“I kind of have to agree,” Sam said as the rest of the wolves nodded and murmured agreement.
“Are you lot crazy?” Merry exclaimed as she jumped to her feet and began to pace again. “We’d have to actually raise the little monsters. No way. It’s just not possible.” She stopped pacing and stood there, hands on hips, glaring at the floor.
Sam just watched her, grinning.
“Look, Sam.” She whirled to face him. “You know I adore you, but we can’t be mates.”
“You adore me?” Sam asked, focusing on the most important thing he’d heard.
“Well, of course, I adore you. No one could possibly give one person that many orgasms and walk away without that person’s adoration.”
The room exploded with laughter.
Merry glanced around in confusion. “What’s so funny about that?”
“Absolutely nothing.” Sam hooked an arm around her waist and dragged her into his lap where he kissed her breathless.
“I’m just saying, Sam,” she murmured against his lips when he finally pulled back a little, “there’s no way the Fates would be that cruel.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that before,” Sam said, “but have you ever actually met the fates?”
“What? Well, no, of course not, but, who has?”
Karl snickered.
“Actually,” Sam said, “we’ve got a couple friends who have met people who know the Fates, and according to them, the Fates sort of specialize in cruelty. For their own amusement, you know.”
Merry’s eyes narrowed. “You know people who know people who know the Fates?”
He nodded.
“The only people who know the Fates are the gods and the goddesses and occasionally a demon or demoness.”
“Yep. Exactly right.”
“Huh.” Merry stared into her wolf’s eyes and wondered what other secrets he held that she just needed time to discover. She popped a small candy bar of pure chocolate into her mouth, sucking on it slowly while staring into his eyes, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “I’m afraid chocolate by itself is way less satisfying now.”
He stiffened beneath her in all the best of ways.
She leaned back and grinned at him.
Sam’s eyes flared bright, and she caught a glimpse of his wolf staring back at her before he surged to his feet. “Great dinner, Mom. See you next week!”
“Sam!” Francine’s voice carried over the sound of everyone else’s laughter as he carried his mate back to the cabin where the hell-kitties and their future waited.
