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I swallowed hard, staring at the tiger while my heart thundered off down the road and into town to find somewhere civilized to be. “Your name is Thomas? How weirdly normal.”

The tiger blinked his enormous golden eyes at me. “The bear is Thomas. I’m Balrosh.”

I put a hand to my chest and felt faint. I was going to faint and exit this play with talking animals that could kill me. I must be hallucinating. “Are you really talking or are you just in my head? Maybe you’re part of my creepy dream sequence.”

His tail twitched. “If I were in your head, how could you possibly tell by asking me that question? But I’m not. Part of the process of animating a construct involves finding a soul to spark the life. I offered myself as a sacrifice to the Heir of Hoar many, many generations ago. Thomas did a few generations before that.”

I stared at him. “That’s fabulous. Where were you before now?”

“In a museum of natural history. I was asleep until you awakened me a few days ago. You don’t seem competent enough to bring anything to life.”

“Thank you. Would you mind staying in the hall with Thomas?”

“I don’t stay,” he said with another lazy flick of his tail. “I patrol.”

“You swear you won’t hurt my children?”

“I don’t swear. I’m already bound to your will.” He said it so contemptuous and scathing. It’s like he was related to my husband.

“That’s so great! You monitor the halls and protect everyone.” I marched to the front door, threw it open, and stalked out into the rain, without an umbrella, without pants, only wearing a big shirt.

I squelched through the mud until I was facing Clark where he sat, in the dark, while contemptuous tigers slept in my bed instead of him.

“What is your problem!” I yelled over the rumble of distant thunder.

He opened his eyes, and then he glowed, all of his skin a pale luminescent pearl veined with blue lightning. “Do I have a problem? Yes. You’re getting wet, and you run cold, being an heir of Hoar House.”

I pointed at him. “Exactly! If you’re my husband, why aren’t you sleeping with me so I’m not cold?”

“You wanted a divorce.”

I shoved back a hank of soaking hair that was in my eyes. “And you didn’t! Shouldn’t you be trying to woo me with your muscles and warmth and knowledge when I’ve fallen down this rabbit hole of insanity without the slightest idea which way is up? But no, you’d rather just sit in the mud like some big stupid rock!”

He slowly stood up, his glowing chest rippling with muscles as he crossed his arms, glowering at me. “Is that what you want? Someone with no respect for your wishes?”

I pounded my fists against those warm pectorals. “I want to love you! Why can’t you be honest with me about anything? Every time I go to fall for you, you put up barriers, lies, lies, and more lies. Why don’t you want me to trust you? Why can’t you let me love who you really are?”

His eyes glowed and flickered dangerously. “You don’t want to know who I really am. So much blood, Marigold. So much pain. And that’s what I’m best at. I’m really, really good at killing people. I’m a killer.”

“That’s not all you are.”

“Tell that to Ray and Donny.”

“I don’t have to, because you saved their sister. Stop looking at yourself as this one simple thing. You make me waffles. You hold me when the world falls apart. You keep me warm when the world gets so cold. And before you the world was always cold. Stop lying to me! Just be whoever you are, and then maybe I can love you.”

His voice was a low rumble of doom. “But what if you can’t love who I really am?”

“But what if I can?”

For a moment, we stared at each other with the rain pouring down, pounding on my head, cold and heartless as he looked, and the next thing I knew, his hands were cupping my face, and his lips were on mine.

The connection was a shock of heat and energy that had me arching towards him, needing more of his love and the warmth I’d been craving for so long. I loved him. I needed him. He made my life something more than black-and-white goals and accomplishments. He kissed me like I was his breath, sweeping me away beneath the crackling heat of his lightning magic.

Reality parted, and we fell back, landing on the enormous dark bed, floating candles still there where I’d left them, probably a fire hazard, but surely the house wouldn’t burn itself down.

I gasped at the sudden change of scenery, going from front yard to bed in a blink. He leaned over me, eyes flickering like the tattoos all over his body, including face. I trailed my finger over the lines on his cheek, feeling the tingle of power.

“You asked me to be in your bed,” he said, like he wasn’t sure if this was a dream.