Page 173 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

“Something like that,” I said carefully.

“This job,” Yuna continued, her tone growing sharp, “the one where you apparently save hundreds of lives—is it dangerous?”

The question hung in the air like smoke.

“Very,” I said honestly, sliding my arm around Felix’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “But I’d die before I let anything happen to him.”

Felix relaxed against me, his relief flooding through.

Yuna studied us both for a long moment, her gaze taking in the protective way I held her son, the way Felix melted into my touch.

“Thank you,” she said finally. “Thank you for telling me. We’re very proud of Min-jun.”

“Thank you for raising such an amazing man,” I replied, meaning every word.

Lily cleared her throat dramatically. “Right, well, now that we’ve established that my brother is basically James Bond—Kit, is your brother single yet?”

I nearly choked on my bulgogi. “Rory? God, no. But you don’t want him. He’s only got eyes for a zombie ferret.”

“A what now?”

“It’s complicated.”

Simon laughed, the sound rich and warm. “I like this one, Felix.”

Felix buried his face in his hands. “We have to go now,” he suddenly declared. “Remember I said we had evening plans tonight?”

“Yes, yes,” Yuna said. “I remember. Will you join us again next week, Kit?”

“With pleasure.”

Ten metres down the street, Felix stopped walking and turned to face me.

I grimaced. “How much trouble am I in?”

Felix burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the narrow, terraced houses. “God, I love you. So bloody much.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Are you joking? That was fantastic!” He shook his head, still grinning.

“Come here.” I drew him close, cuddling him against my chest. The familiar scent of vanilla and coffee clung to his hoodie, grounding me after the minefield of that family dinner.

“You can come to dinner every week from now on,” he said, his voice muffled against my shirt. “I was running out of stories about printer errors to tell them. This will be much better.”

I kissed the top of his head, breathing him in. “We’d better walk quickly.”

Felix sobered and nodded, pulling back to meet my eyes, the weight of what we were walking towards remembered.

It was finally the day of Issac’s memorial event. Three years since his death.

We marched through the darkening streets, our footsteps echoing in unison.

“What was he like?” Felix asked.

I blinked. I often forgot that Felix had never met Issac. Our necromancer had died a month before Felix accidentally hacked into our systems.

“Well. Imagine Rory, but five times worse.”