Page 17 of A Swan’s Love Song

Don’t snub your nose at fate. It pisses her off.”

Avi thought he heard the priest mumble something about ‘that’s what I’ve heard anyway’, but he

couldn’t be sure.

“Uh…right. I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”

Father Janna rose. “Good luck. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my cleaning.”

Avi rose as well while glancing around the church. Not that he could see every detail, but

everything already appeared meticulous. Even the wooden pews had recently been polished. They

were shiny, and the scent of orange oil permeated the air.

“Thank you, Father. I appreciate your counsel.”

The priest was already walking away. He glanced over his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

Avi scrubbed his face as the priest’s words sunk in.

Now to figure out my next move.

* * * *

Sean chewed on the end of his pencil as he sat cross-legged on the bed. He held the guitar

balanced on his lap as he read over the lyric and chord progression he’d just written. After singing

the melody aloud, he scrunched up his nose then furiously erased over the newest sentence.

Dorky.

All he had to give Avi was himself, but he didn’t want the handsome, sophisticated Alpha to

think he was a complete cornball. He had to prove he was mature enough to be daddy material.

And ready to mate.

Sean shivered. Avi was so sexy. He couldn’t stop touching himself whenever he was alone at

night and fantasizing about the muscled hunk. Ever since they’d met the night Kellan’s egg had

hatched, he’d hoped that Avi would consider him.

But I don’t have anything to give him other than myself. Why isn’t that enough?

Sean took another look at his dumb song then lay his precious guitar on the bed. What had made

him think that a lyric filled with all sorts of sappy feelings would make Avi think more highly of him?

Still, Avi had said he loved acoustic guitar and singer/songwriter music, so that meant they had

something in common, right? He wasn’t sure what to do anymore.

A tap sounded on his door and Sean jerked up his head. No one ever came to his room. Had he

been so lost in his musings and vain attempts at songwriting, that he’d missed a shift?