“Yes.”
“And she’s… still alive?”
“Very much so.” I can’t quite suppress the satisfied rumble that accompanies that particular memory. “Remarkably responsive, actually.”
Another long silence. Then Celeste’s compound eyes go wide as dinner plates, and a strangled squeaking sound escapes her throat. “Oh my God. You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”
“I’m not sure what you’re implying—”
“You seduced her!” The accusation bursts out of her like a dam breaking, and her wings beat so rapidly they’re a blur. “You caught some poor innocent delivery driver in your web and—” She makes vague gesturing motions with her upper arms that I assume are meant to represent something scandalous.
“I courted her,” I correct with dignity. “There’s a difference.”
“Courted her?” The shriek is loud enough to rattle the windows. “Riven, that’s not courting! That’s kidnapping with extra steps!”
“She seemed quite satisfied with my approach.” I take a deliberate sip of coffee. “Multiple times, if I’m being precise.”
“You… She… multiple…” Another strangled squeak. “Oh my God, you actually did it. You found someone!”
The wonder in her voice catches me off guard. For all her panic and dramatic gasping, there’s something almost reverent in the way she’s looking at me now. Like she’s witnessing a miracle instead of a scandalous encounter with a delivery service.
“I did,” I admit, and something warm unfurls in my chest at the words. “June of Hartwell Delivery is a remarkable female.Strong, competent, professionally dedicated. A valiant woman worthy of my attention. I even crafted clothing for her from my silk.” I intentionally neglect to say exactly what kind of clothing…
“Oh my god, Riven, you’re actually—” She cuts herself off. “You’re in a real courtship! With silk gifts and everything! Oh, this is so exciting! What’s she like? When do I get to meet her?”
“Celeste.” My voice, honed by years of her exuberance, slices through her babbling. “Breathe.”
She takes a dramatic gulp of air as her wings settle into a gentle flutter. “Sorry. It’s just… I’ve been waiting for this for years. I was starting to think you were going to stay a grumpy hermit forever.”
“I am still grumpy,” I point out. “And I’m still a hermit. June simply happens to be compatible with both traits.”
“So when are you seeing her again? Please tell me you have a plan. Please tell me it involves more than hiding in your lair hoping she runs into another web.”
The question brings me up short. When am I seeing her again? I need a reason to summon her back to my mountain, something that requires her specific delivery services.
“I haven’t determined the optimal approach,” I admit reluctantly. “My research into human courtship protocols is… incomplete.”
Celeste blinks at me. “Research?”
“I’ve been studying human mating rituals through anthropological observation. The Bachelor provided particularly valuable insights into competitive selection processes.”
The look she gives me is pure horror. “Those shows are entertainment! Horrible, trashy entertainment that has nothing to do with how real people actually date!”
I frown, processing this information. “But the subjects engage in structured courtship displays under controlled observation—”
“They’re paid actors looking for Instagram followers!” Celeste looks like she’s about to have a full nervous breakdown.
“Well, I’ll have you know my research yielded favorable results, as June has already expressed an interest in perhaps having dinner with me.”
If Celeste’s compound eyes widen any further, I fear they might pop out of her head. “She did?”
“Yes. But I require a delivery pretext,” I explain. “She won’t return without professional justification.”
Celeste looks off, thinking. “Okay. You need something to order. Something that requires her to come back up here.”
“Precisely. But what could top premium comfort footwear? I have all a Vyder could possibly need now, besides a mate.”
The look Celeste gives me suggests I’ve said something particularly stupid. “Riven. Get something forher, you dolt! It’s like you have more legs than brain cells!”
