Page 149

… Like a martini made of ass.

I sigh. Out loud. Which Caelan doesn’t even register.

Fuck it. Might as well do what I do best. Talk about random shit and hope I’m charming enough for the other person to forget how fucking inept I actually am.

“Did uh⁠—”

Wincing, I take a few steps closer so I’m not shouting across the room.

No need to freak out. It’s just Caelan. Your Bonded Packmate. Your brother. He wouldn’t kill you.

The sound my Alpha makes when he laughs could easily be described as a cackle.

You should run.

Fuck my instincts. My jaw clenches, and I cross the space between us with newfound determination. When I’m as close as I’d normally be if I weren’t overthinking every Fatesdamned thing, I ask, “Did the staff drop off the stuff I got for Idril?”

“What?” Caelan’s eyes snap to mine, dark, black, and sharp as the dagger he’s probably dreaming about gutting me with. It takes everything in me not to take a step back.

His gaze sharpens, and when it starts to soften into something that’s more broody and less stabby, I relax.

“Oh… the clothes.” He scrubs a hand over his short hair and nods absently. “Yeah. They brought them earlier.”

There’s no holding back the grin that takes over my face. For just a moment, I selfishly let myself imagine Idril’s face lighting up brighter and brighter with each bag of new clothes and all the other girly things I ordered for her.

But I must spend too much time imagining it because when I focus on Caelan, he’s totally not smiling back like I thought he’d be. His eyes are hard. Even darker than they were just a moment ago. My grin falls as his hard stare turns into a pissed-off glare that’s so heated I kind of wonder if my skin has started peeling from my bones.

When he takes a menacing step forward, I know I’ve somehow fucked up.

“Do not ever buy my Mate lingerie again,” he snarls in a tone so threatening I’m actually a little bit scared.

My mouth opens, but no words come out, which is honestly fine because he’s not done talking.

“If you do,” he warns, voice lethal. “I’ll make you eat every fucking piece.”

My laugh sounds strained even to my own ears. I throw my hands up between us, but he ignores them, walking me back step by step until I bounce into the wall.

“Each bra. Each pair of panties. Until you gag on the lace and choke on the straps.”

My voice is like three octaves higher than normal as I stutter, “I totally hear you, but just for the sake of argument, are we really sure the punishment fits the crime in this⁠—”

He growls. His fangs lengthen to points.

I shut up.

Caelan stares me down long enough to really get his point across, which, frankly, is wasted time on his part, then turns on his heel and stalks out. I don’t breathe until the door snicks shut and I’m sure he’s gone. Then I bend over, brace my hands on my knees, and exhale like I just ran a freaking 10k.

Just great. Totally fucking awesome. Not only do I have to prepare for recon tonight, but I also need to find enough time to research ‘how to prevent death-by-thong.’

Chapter 18

Vaelenor

It’s been two hours since we arrived at the decommissioned military base, and Silas and I are both bored out of our skulls. There’s nothing here. We checked the perimeters twice, but outside of a few tire tracks leading in and out of the place, it’s a ghost town.

The whole place feels empty, and I hate that feeling. Empty means wrong. Empty means bad. Empty means the Fates are contemplating how best to ruin my entire fucking evening in the most dramatic and traumatizing way possible.

After another fifteen minutes of jack shit, Silas shoots to his feet.