Page 71 of Something Handsome This Way Comes

His mate’s curls bounced beneath his pointed hat. His cheeks were pink from dancing. His green eyes shone every time their gazes met. They must have looked ridiculous. Two fools grinning at one another like they had discovered love for the first time.

Perhaps Grievance had.

Perhaps he found it again every time Milo looked at him like that. Every time those green eyes softened just for him. Every time Milo reached for his hand without thinking, laughed against his shoulder, or said my mate like the words belonged together.

Perhaps that was what loving someone truly meant.

Not falling once, but falling over and over again, and never once wishing to be caught.

Another song began, and then another. By the end of the third, Milo was breathless as Grievance pulled him close, the witch’s hands coming to rest against his chest as Grievance wrapped both arms around his waist.

For a moment, they simply swayed beneath the floating lanterns while the rest of Pumpkin Hollow danced around them.

Then Milo rose onto his toes, his lips brushing Grievance’s ear.

“How about we get out of here?”

Grievance smiled, tightening his hold around his mate.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

CHAPTER NINE

milo

There was only one explanation for the feverish need coursing through Milo’s blood. One reason for the constant reminders all through the night. The way Grievance’s forearm bulged beneath his bands of gem-studded silver and gold. The way the emerald earring dangled, accenting his corded neck. The slope of his shoulders and the defined muscle there.

Milo tried all night to resist the urge and enjoy the festival. But after feeling those hands sliding over his body, leading them in a dance bursting with magic—he couldn’t deny it a second longer.

It was instinct.

It was need.

It was as though Milo were in heat. A biologically impossible function for him, but… who knew what parts of him had changed because of his Chimera? His mate, whose mark he wore proudly on his skin.

Milo led Grievance away from the enchanted sounds of the square and toward the forest, its call growing louder beneath the full moon. Without thinking, Milo broke into a run. And it was as though he were a MythBeast bounding through the undergrowth, lungs heaving, claws digging into the earth as he pushed himself further. Faster.

He dropped his belongings and shed his clothes as he ran. First the bear, then his hat. He kicked off his shoes and tossed them into the brambles. Milo was panting, the cold October night filling his lungs, burning him but also giving him the very thing he needed to be alive and rooted in this moment.

Behind him, Milo heard the crashing of trees and the snapping of sticks.

Something wicked was coming.

Something was chasing Milo, its animalistic grunts getting closer and closer.

Milo continued to run, shedding his coat, gasping, tears stinging his eyes as the wind blew directly into his face. He saw the clearing through the trees. He was so close. All he had to do was reach it and…

Milo leaped over a fallen log, stumbling into the enchanted ring.

The clearing opened before him, enveloping him in pleasant heat, like a soft breath on a cold October night. Not a single fallen leaf disturbed the grass within the enchanted circle, untouched by the autumn debris blanketing the rest of the forest. Here, the chill never seemed to reach. Not summer heat, but the gentle, comforting warmth of sitting beside a hearth.

Glow Mushrooms lined its border in a perfect ring, their caps unusually bright tonight, burning orange and purple as though they, too, were celebrating the Pumpkin Festival.

And at the very center stood an old Lantern.

His Lantern.

His private place of worship.