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“Well, thank you, actually." Nog threw his hands up in the air again. “Finally,someone sees me for the genius?—”
“Ugh!” Reagan scrubbed a hand down her face. “Someone get him some clothes. I can’t have this conversation while he’s naked. It’s gross.”
“Wow, Reagan,” Nog said sarcastically. “There you go ruining my chances with all the hot hell babes.”
“You’re my cousin,” she said, still not looking at him. “And you’re not staying.”
Thank fuck. Glad we could agree on that.
“Actually,” Nog started, the first sign of uneasiness entering his expression. “About that. You see, it was my idea to come here, but it was more out of necessity. Don’t get me wrong, I wanna save you”—Clara huffed a snort, earning her a glare. “But a week ago I got annoyed with Dad and shifted, but then I couldn’t shift back. No matter how hard I tried, nothing worked. Tío even used his alpha command on me like you did, and nothing happened. So I got to thinking, Tartarus magic changed me, maybe I needed to be here to learn how to shift. Which led to me hunting down this loser.” He hiked a thumb toward Ben, who remained on the floor recovering. “I remembered he could talk to dogs, so I figured all I had to do was sell him on saving you and suddenly I have a sidekick to do my dirty work—i.e. distracting the hot chick at the portal.”
“Call me “the hot chick” again and I’ll rip your fucking tongue out then feed it to a real dog.”
I half turned to look over my shoulder.
Styx stood in blue jeans and a black flannel shirt. Her fingers twitched like she was itching to reach for the thin silver daggers in her hair to use on Nog. That wouldn’t do.
“Hello, Styx.”
“Caius.” Her eyebrows lifted a fraction at Reagan’s close proximity to me. “Reagan.”
My mate stiffened. If I wasn’t watching her, I might have missed the way her eyes seemed to glow for a brief moment. Almost like somethinginher was looking out and sizing up the other woman.
I would have found her potential jealousy cute if not for the fact that I didn’t want her to be insecure about us. I was hers. Only hers. After Abraxia, I didn’t get into relationships with anyone. Period. Reagan would be my only exception.
Styx was a friend, and a very good one who wasn’t going anywhere. I needed them to get along. Or at least to not have to worry about that entity in Reagan lashing out in anger. While I doubted my mate would ever do such a thing, I was intimately familiar with the darker side of magic. The real question was, was it her animal, or something else looking out through those beautiful eyes?
“Well, this is awkward,” Nog said.
Reagan slapped him upside the back of his head, and he grunted.
“Who’s the boy?” Pol asked.
“My dumbass brother,” Clara muttered, putting her face in her hand.
“Excuse me, but I’m nineteen. Thank you very much. I’m a grown ass man?—”
“I’ve taken shits bigger than you,” Styx replied.
“I sincerely doubt that,” Nog said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Can we get the child some fucking clothes?” I said, and guards snapped to attention, running around like worker ants.
“I’m not a child,” Nog insisted.
“You pick your nose and eat it,” Clara pointed out.
“You have a poster of Britney Spears on your ceiling,” Reagan said. I had no idea who that was.
“Jesus, that was when I was five,” Nog said to Clara first then turned to Reagan. “And Britney is hot. Any man will tell you.”
“We know what you do with that poster. Find a fuck buddy like the rest of us,” Clara said. “Even Reagan found—” Her mouth snapped shut.
My mate glared in her direction. “Does the phraseread the fucking roommean anything to you?” She took a step closer to me, closing the distance between us. I knew it was to protect her old flame, but I couldn’t think about that now. Not if I wanted to leave him breathing, which was really in my best interest because I needed Reagan to let down those walls between us—and as much as she was softening to me, she made it clear she would have a difficult time ignoring murder. Even if the asshole deserved it.
A guard arrived with clothes, silently handing them off to the boy. I pointed at him and said, “You. Get dressed.” Then I wrapped my arm around Reagan’s waist, pulling her to me like I wanted. “The rest of you, follow me. I want this shit sorted. Now.”
* * *
