I scoff at that and everyone looks my way. “That is not true at all!”
Lachlan smiles broadly and gestures towards them. “Aye, go on.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s an amazing contractor. You should see the stables he built at the Hall, expert craftsmanship. He wanted to be a pirate when we were kids,”—I tick the items off my fingers—“he hates books, loves to travel, he’s a great friend, and partner…”
Freya giggles, the sound like pealing bells.
“I could go on and on,” I say, a smile stretching across my face.
Lachlan stares at me with a mixture of happiness and pride. “You forgot—great protector, fast flier…”
I laugh harder and his smile grows.
“We missed out,” Freya says to Odr.
He smiles warmly at us, the corners of his eyes crinkle the same way that Lachlan’s do. “We knew that already.”
“What about you guys?” I ask.
Freya looks to Odr, her lips pursed in a single line. “I’m not even sure.” She chuckles.
Odr’s gaze swings our way. “I dabbled in some building in my youth and I command our armies.” He shifts towards us. “Even thought about being a pirate once.”
Freya rolls her eyes. “By dabbled he means he constructed the entire west wing of our palace.”
Lachlan and Odr immediately launch into conversation about architectural styles and the horror that has been modernization in the human realm while Freya and I look on fondly.
The day passes in the blink of an eye.
“How are ye feeling?” Lachlan asks, as I slide into bed beside him.
My nightgown is like silk against my skin as I shimmy closer to him and he watches me intently. The sheets are slung low around his hips, his bare chest visible in the warm candlelight of our room. His arms are tucked under his head and as I snuggle into his side, he wraps an arm around me.
“I’m fine.”
My head rises and falls with his words and my eyes slide shut as I inhale his familiar scent. Cedar and rain, two of my favorite things.
“Areyouokay?” I turn, resting my chin on his chest as I gaze up at him.
“Aye. It’ll be nice to get to know them. To learn things about my parents that I dinna ken.”
“Hopefully, not things that will change the entirety of your life,” I tease.
A smile tugs at his lips and he looks down at me. “Aye, that would be horrible.”
“Mhm,”—I walk my fingers across the broad expanse of his chest—“like how your best friend knew all along about your important heritage and kept it from you.”
His eyes widen a fraction. “And how long ha’ ye been holding onto that one?”
“All day.”
He digs his fingers into the ticklish spot on my ribs and I erupt with laughter.
“Ye’ll be punished for that!” He laughs, tickling me again and again, as I squirm underneath him.
Fits of laughter have my lungs aching, and my legs twisting in the sheets.
He stops his torture and smiles at me as I catch my breath.
