“Absolutely should go.”
Sam pulled a container of cherry tomatoes from his refrigerator and started slicing them with a vegetable knife.
“Five more minutes,” Urien said.
Mabon nodded. “Five minutes.”
“Are you sure this isn’t creepy?” Urien whispered.
“Technically…” Mabon tilted his hand one way and then the other. “But from a dragon perspective, I’d call this a necessity.”
Chapter Ten
Sam
The cursor blinked at Sam. He’d been staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes while Basil groomed himself on the kitchen table, occasionally pausing to judge Sam’s lack of productivity.
Kieran leaned forward, moonlight catching in his eyes. “Michael. There’s something we need to tell you. Something about what we are. What you are to us.”
Michael set down his coffee cup. “What do you mean?”
Kieran looked to his brothers. Dante nodded. Alaric’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t protest.
“We’re…”
Sam deleted the last line. Typed it again. Deleted it.
“How do you tell someone you’re a vampire without sounding completely unhinged?” He glanced at Basil. “Do they just say it? ‘Hey, we’re immortal bloodsuckers, and also you’re ourdestined mate’? That’s ridiculous. Michael would run screaming.”
Basil licked his paw with exaggerated disinterest.
“Right. Not helpful.” Sam scrolled up through the document, rereading the careful courtship he’d constructed over twenty-five thousand words. The lingering glances. The protective gestures. The slowly building connection between three paranormal beings and one ordinary human who had no idea his entire world was about to be upended.
One thing was abundantly clear. He’d made a classic author’s mistake and written himself into a corner. The vampires couldn’t just tell Michael the truth. Michael would think they were dangerous or delusional. But they also couldn’t keep pretending to be normal humans - the facade was already cracking. How could Sam bridge that gap for them, making the impossible become believable?
Sam pushed his laptop away and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. “See, in my book, they just tell thehuman they’re fated mates.” He looked at Basil again. The cat had moved on to washing his tail. “Why can’t real life be that simple?”
The words hung in the air, and Sam laughed. Real life? Why was he thinking about real life?
“I’m losing it,” he told Basil. “Three attractive men wander into the café, and suddenly I’m comparing them to my fictional vampires. That’s pathetic.”
Basil’s tail twitched.
“They’re just being friendly. That’s it. That’s all there is.”
The receipt with Rux’s number sat beneath his laptop, edges creased from being folded and unfolded too many times.
Sam pulled it out and smoothed it flat. He’d saved the number to his contacts. It’s not like he even needed the paper anymore. He hadn’t deleted the number, but he hadn’t called it either. What would he even say?
“They’re just lonely,” Sam said. “I’m reading too much into polite conversation because I haven’t had a date in forever, and I spend too much time thinking about my romance novels.”
Basil jumped down from the table and wound between Sam’s ankles, purring.
Sam bent to scratch behind his ears. “You’re right. I should just call him. They’ve all been in since, and it hasn’t been too weird. I should ask if they want to grab a pint at Pat’s. Be normal about it instead of sitting here wondering if three gorgeous men are secretly supernatural beings who’ve decided I’m their…”
He stopped and sat back up, looking at his laptop screen where Kieran, Dante, and Alaric waited in frozen confession.
“I’ve been writing this exact scenario for three weeks,” he said slowly. “Three beings. One human. Coffee shop meetings. Awkward courtship. And now three men show up in Dinetell and start acting…”
