Page 111 of Something Handsome This Way Comes

“I need… one moment. I’ll be right back.”

Grievance tilted his head, but didn’t move to stop him.

Milo slipped from the opposite side of the bed and immediately regretted every decision he had made in the last several hours.

“Ow. Ow—Lanterns—ow.”

He shuffled toward the apothecary while attempting to retain what remained of his dignity, clutching his lower back like a man triple his age.

There was only one option. One extremely expensive option. Milo stopped in front of the locked cabinet behind his worktable and stared through the glass.

A few tiny silver bottles sat inside.

Marrowdew Elixir.

One of the most difficult potions Milo knew how to brew. It was the combined skill of potion-making and spellwork, something Milo still had trouble with.

The full name of the potion was Unicorn Marrowdew Elixir, and despite the alarming name, Marrowdew was a substance unicorns naturally shed from their horns during a full moon.

Very rare and extremely restorative. A single bottle took an entire lunar cycle to make. Certain ingredients had to be added beneath specific phases of the moon. Miss one step, mistime one ingredient, and the entire batch was ruined.

Which was why Milo kept them for emergencies. Real emergencies.

Milo glanced toward the bedroom. Something enormous thumped against the wall. His jaw tightened.

“This counts.”

He unlocked the cabinet, snatched one of the precious bottles, popped the stopper, and drank. The potion burned cold going down.

Milo shuddered as magic spread outward from his stomach, racing through exhausted muscles and sinking warmth into every aching joint. Fatigue peeled away by degrees. The soreness dulled. His limbs stopped feeling as though someone had replaced his bones with wet noodles.

He stared mournfully at the empty bottle.

I won’t use another. This was an exception.

Another heavy scrape came from the bedroom. Milo discarded the bottle and walked down the hall. Grievance was waiting exactly where Milo had left him, his massive body still spilling across the floor.

The forked tongue appeared again, tasting Milo’s scent on the air. He must have liked what he found, because a moment later, a steady hiss sliced the air. It didn’t come from his mouth, but somewhere deeper in his chest.

Milo’s pulse jumped, and he stopped short at the foot of the bed. Grievance watched him like a crocodile from the riverbank, waiting for a wildebeest to grow desperate enough for a drink.

Patient despite the hunger in his expression. Always waiting for Milo to choose.

Asking.

Milo drew in a breath.

He climbed onto the mattress and crawled toward the creature who was somehow both the most frightening thing he had ever willingly approached and the man he trusted more than anyone in the world.

Grievance reached for him, not with his arms, which stayed at his side, but with the looping coils of his body. They looped around Milo, creating a living cage of muscle. Yet despite their power, not a scale touched Milo’s skin. The coils remained an inch away. Waiting for permission to constrict.

Milo looked into his mate’s hungry eyes. They were different in this form, blinking with double reptilian lids. But the color—those irises.

They were the same.

They were his.

Another long hiss filled the room, dropping the temperature several degrees. Milo shivered.