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I pick up the papers and flip through them. He even made a table of contents, small as it is this early in the training. “Think Aspen will notice if our new grimoires look the same?”
“Fuck what he thinks.” Tris’s eyes narrow. “He’s lucky I’m not still a wolf shifter, or he’d have no balls right now.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Ew, then you’d have ball breath, and I’d never kiss you again.”
“Oh, yeah?” He swoops in and takes the hot chocolate from my hand, setting it on the table before bending me over his arm and planting a kiss full of tongue on my mouth.
When he straightens, he licks his lips. “Mmm, chocolatey.”
Laughing, I push him away and reclaim my hot chocolate. “I hope this is just a precursor to breakfast at Nesse’s Diner. I have a craving for French fries and milkshakes.”
Haut comes out of his room where he’d gone to get dressed for the day just as a knock sounds at the front door.
With a scowl, he veers away from the kitchen and opens the door, growling, “What are you doing here?”
Aspen’s voice drifts through the house. “I’d like to speak to Rowe, if I may?”
“You don’t have to.” Shadows bubble from Owen’s skin, and his eyes flash red. “Say the word, and we’ll have him escorted out of town.”
After a moment of hesitation, I shake my head. “I’ll see what he has to say first.”
I brace myself as I walk to the foyer, where Haut’s large body blocks the door. Over Haut’s shoulder, the top of Aspen’s blond head is just visible.
Haut grips the doorframe, and a low growl of threat comes from him.
I touch his stiff back. “It’s okay.”
“Make her sad, and I’ll end you.” Haut steps to the side and glances down at me, his expression softening. “We’ll be right here if you need us.”
I pat his chest as I step past and close the door to give us a semblance of privacy.
Aspen moves away from the door. He looks less put together this morning, the seams in his slacks not as crisp as usual, and the buttons of his shirt don’t align with his belt buckle.
For Aspen, he’s a mess.
I take a few steps out onto the porch before stopping and crossing my arms over my stomach. “What do you want?”
He draws in a deep breath. “First, I want to apologize for my words yesterday. I was out of line. It was never my intention to cause you pain.”
I regard him for a moment. While his words made me angry, I’m not the one he hurt. “There’s someone else who deserves your apology more.”
He sighs, his gaze dropping to the floor beneath his feet. “You’re right, and I intend to speak to Melody—”
“Mel,” I bite out.
His eyes jerk up to meet mine. “Excuse me?”
My eyes narrow. “She prefers to go by Mel, which you know and disregard because you believe your opinion means more than her comfort.”
He stiffens before he nods. “You’re right. I will add that to my list of things to apologize for.”
“Good.” I study him. “You should also apologize to Delilah for ridiculing our bucket.”
A muscle in his temple jumps. “It was creatively decorated.”
“You called it childish,” I correct, “and said it wasn’t a magical tool.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I realize you’re new to learning magic, so you don’t understand what qualifies as a magic tool, but just saying something is magic doesn’t make it so.”
