I grit my teeth and shove him down deep. Then I let out a breath and sink to the edge of the bed. The spark. I'd thought, hoped, it was just the magic of the new contract settling. Not a mating bond. I'm still not sure I believe it. Nick is a demon, and demons find the most joy in causing mayhem. But my hound, God, he's been obsessed with Ivy since he first saw her. Which means I have to keep him on a short leash.
Ivy comes out of the bathroom, and the air goes out of me.
She's in a silky shorts-and-tank set. Her long, smooth legs look endless beneath the hem. Freckles dust across her chest and shoulders.Her hair falls loose, brushing the tops of her shoulders in dark brown waves. It's hot tonight, and the cottage doesn't have air conditioning, so the set makes sense, but I have to take a few deep breaths and concentrate on things like horse shit and my own tenuous freedom to get back to a safe baseline. I expect this to be awkward, but she doesn't say anything or linger. She just lifts the covers and slides in without a word, turning her back to me. I run a hand through my hair one last time.
Mate,my hound huffs.
Behave,I growl back internally.
I lift the blanket and slip under, letting the undersized mattress sink beneath my weight. I face the wall, but it doesn't matter. Even with my knees hanging off the edge and my arms tucked against me, my back still presses against hers. Every inch where we meet tingles with the sharp awareness of her warmth, of the silk of her shirt dragging across my spine every time she breathes. I can feel the steady thump of her heart alongside mine.
"So," she starts, voice soft in the dark,. "that stuff the demon lawyer said…" She trails off. I control my breathing, slow and steady, keeping myself tightly under control.
"Yeah?" I say, hoping she'll let it go. The words won’t come tonight. Not for this.
"That's crazy talk, right? Like, you just went along with it for cover." It's almost a question and almost a statement, and I want to avoid the former. "I mean, what an insane theory. I think my aunt randomly picked me out of all her ancestors. I don't think it was because we're mates. That's not a thing."
I wait. One thing I've learned about Ivy is that she'll talk herself in a circle and answer half her own questions.
"Like, if mates were a thing, then I wouldn't have ended up with a gaslighting ex who stole everything I built, right? I'd just wait around for what, some magic orb to tell me who my mate was?" She laughs a little at the end, and I feel it vibrate through my back.
I don't say anything. I can't, because every molecule of my body has shut off so I can focus on the ones touching her.
"Conall?" she whispers, turning slightly toward me and pressing her shoulder more firmly into my side.
"We need to sleep. I saw Laz in town before the meeting, and he said he might have something on Shipton's spell." She shifts back, and I breathe. I listen as her breathing evens out, feel her muscles relax, and her form settle more snugly against me. I lie awake with my hound's endless chant.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
The glow of a will-o'-the-wisp in the window makes my hackles rise. Just like Amy guessed. A spy. Well, they can report that we sleep. It floats away.
I finally find sleep, too.
Ivy
I wake up warm and held, feeling safer than I have since the divorce. Something tickles my nose. Earthy and fresh. A heaviness lies across my side, and my face is pressed firmly into something solid.
My eyes open slowly. Mornings have never been my thing. At first, everything is sleep-blurred, but as I blink, it clears, and I'm met with a sight.
A horrifying sight, if I'm being honest. I have to cover my mouth to keep from screaming.
I recognize the monster in my bed, though last time he'd been a blur of green and blood and snapping teeth. Conall, in his faehound form, is completely wrapped around me. An arm covered in mottled green fur drapes over my waist. A huge paw-like hand with clawed fingers rests against the small of my back, one claw tracing absent circles in his sleep, not cutting, just sending shivers up my spine. His snout is tipped toward me, sharp teeth as long as my fingers glinting from within. Before I'd fully woken, my head had been nestled against his wide neck. His torso is more human in shape, with shorter fur and hard muscle. Short vines grow from his hide. His legs are tangled with mine, but just from the feel of them, I can tell they aren’t human.
The only thing that could be described as cute are two fluffy pointed ears at the top of his head.
For a while, I just stare, not daring to move. Would Conall in his hound form eat me like the wolf ate the grandmother inLittle Red Riding Hood? But then the staring shifts from fear to genuine curiosity. He looks almost like I'd expect a werewolf to look, with some human traits plus greenery. I'd seen him walk upright the last time he'd been in this form. He half hangs off the bed, leaving enough space for me to rest comfortably on my edge.
The hound's green eyes snap open, and a small squeak escapes before I cover my mouth with both hands. A growl rumbles up from his diaphragm and out through his maw.
I've had the unfortunate chance to test my fight-or-flight instincts several times recently, and I've learned I have neither. I curl up, hands over my head, eyes shut tight, braced for claws or fangs or worse.
None of them comes.
Instead, there’s a soft nudge against my hands. Then clawed fingers trace my back, slow and deliberate, dragging along my spine in a way that makes my skin ignite. I risk a look through the gap between my forearms. Green eyes, sharp teeth, and a powerful snout hover above me.
“C-Conall?” My voice comes out shaky, hardly a whisper.
He huffs, the sound full of frustration. The growl that follows vibrates deep in his chest, low and rumbling like a filthy purr that sinks straight between my thighs. It’s soothing and devastating all at once. His snout dips to the top of my head, warm breath caressing my hair as he brushes through it. Then those lethal teeth, carefully kept behind his muzzle, trail down the side of my face, slow and reverent. Despite the fear from moments ago, heat floods my body. Nothing about this feels threatening. It feelshungry.
