Page 143 of Something Handsome This Way Comes

Training moved outside after lunch. That was safer. Grievance sat on the back steps with Milo tucked against his side while they watched Pip lead Esmerelda through the garden.

Marigold followed them. The goat was still wearing her ridiculous little pumpkin sweater. Grievance loved it.

“Stealth!” Pip ordered.

Esmerelda flattened herself against the grass.

“Lower!”

She flattened farther.

“Quiet.”

Esmerelda crept toward Marigold. The goat continued chewing.

“Target does not know you approach.”

Marigold looked directly at Esmerelda.

“Target knows!” Pip cried. “Bad stealth!”

Esmerelda chirped as Marigold headbutted her. The dragon tumbled backward into a pile of leaves. Milo snorted against Grievance’s shoulder.

Esmerelda burst from the leaves and chased Marigold around the garden, chirping excitedly. Marigold bleated and bounded away, pumpkin sweater bobbing with every leap, while Pip raced after them, screaming something about discipline.

Grievance rested his cheek against Milo’s curls.

Their home was very loud now.

He liked it that way.

By sunset, Pumpkin Hollow had begun to glow. They could see its light all the way from their spot on the hill. It was time.

Grievance stood before the bedroom mirror, fastening the last clasp around his wrist. Jewelry had fascinated him since he’d first seen it gleam through a shop window. He could not entirely explain why. Fine metals. Polished stones. Gems cut so precisely they captured the light and threw it back in geometric shards of rainbow color.

Tonight, Grievance wore nearly everything he owned.

Gold bands decorated several fingers. A bracelet hugged one wrist. Milo’s old cufflinks fastened his sleeves. His peridot pendant rested against his chest. And from his ear hung the emerald Milo had given him. His favorite. He turned his head, admiring the way the stone caught the lamplight. Deep green. Just like Milo’s eyes.

“You look handsome.”

Grievance looked into the mirror where Milo stood behind him.

His mate had dressed in his formal Healer’s uniform: a long navy coat fitted neatly through the waist, polished brass clasps marching down the front over a cream shirt. His copper-brown curls refused to behave beneath his pointed hat, spilling around his ears, and the dark blue made his green eyes startlingly bright.

And… was that black liner around his eyes? It absolutely was—a thin, simple line traced along his upper lashes, flicking into a sharp point at the corners and making Milo’s green eyes look larger, almost catlike.

Grievance stared in awe.

Milo shifted beneath his attention, suddenly self-conscious. “What?”

“I am reconsidering going to the festival.”

A smile tugged at Milo’s painted glossy lips. “Why?”

“Because I would rather stay here and look at you.”

Pink crept into Milo’s cheeks. Grievance grinned. There it was. He loved doing that.