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Felix’s eyebrows began a slow ascent.
“I did research,” Cassian continued. “I looked at other profiles to understand the format, and I made sure to include all the important things about myself so that potential alphas would know exactly what I’m looking for.”
Felix’s eyebrows had cleared his hairline and were making a credible bid for relocation to the back of his skull.
Ivar angled his head to read the screen. His chewing slowed.
“Cassian,” Felix said. “What do you think ‘open for breeding’ means?”
“Having babies.” Cassian tugged one of Fallon’s ears. “I want children eventually. Not right now, obviously, but I wanted to be upfront about it so nobody wastes their time if they don’t want a family. Colin says honesty is the foundation of a healthy relationship.”
Felix closed his eyes. “And ‘loves cream pies’?”
“I do, Felix. I love cream pies.” Cassian leaned forward, earnest and bright. “Ruari made one with coconut and lime that was genuinely the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I put it in because it shows I’m a food person, which is an attractive quality. People like someone who appreciates good food. I also saw it on a few other profiles.”
Ivar set down his crispbread.
“There’s also this one.” Felix scrolled with his thumb. “Searching for a feeder who knows what I need.”
“That one is actually accurate,” Ivar said, reaching for another crispbread. “Although I am not sure his frame would support the growth a dedicated feeder would be hoping for.”
“What growth?” Cassian asked.
“Never mind,” Felix said.
“Are you talking about my erection? Because I’ve measured it and it’s within average dimensions of a Caucasian male. Diwa showed me how to use a tape measure.” He paused. “Not on my erection. On a leek that came from the garden, which he was measuring after Colin said he was growing subpar produce compared to what we could get from Waitrose.”
Felix held the mobile out to Ivar, who took it, read it for himself, and handed it back.
“In Skalavik,” Ivar said, “there is a word for a man who says one thing while meaning another thing entirely, without realising he has done so. The word is blindsägare. It translates roughly as ‘the one who speaks with his eyes shut.’”
“Is that a real word?” Felix asked.
“All words are real if you say them with enough conviction.”
Felix placed Cassian’s mobile face-down on the table, centred it between the Ladurée box and a bowl of Turkish figs, and folded his hands in his lap.
“Cassian,” he said. “We are going to delete this. Then we are going to have a conversation about the English language that will be unpleasant for everyone involved.”
Cassian looked between them. “But Grammarly said it was perfect.”
“Grammarly,” Felix said, “checks your spelling. It doesn’t check whether you’ve accidentally told alphas that you’re ready to be bred, and that your favourite sexual act involves someone finishing inside you and watching it drip out of you.”
Ivar brushed the dill from his fingertips and turned to Cassian. “Do you want to have sex with another alpha?”
Cassian’s mouth opened, and he shook his head.
“Do you even want to be around one?”
“That’s not the point, Ivar. The point is that I need to learn how to choose properly, because I’ve never—”
“Do you even want to be around another alpha?” Ivar repeated.
Cassian leapt to his feet, Fallon tumbling from his lap with a startled yip. His hand caught the edge of the Ladurée box and swept it off the table. Forty quid of mediocre pastry skidded over the conservatory floor.
“I don’t even want these pastries!” His voice cracked on the last word. “I don’t want Ladurée pastries. I don’t want any pastries that aren’t Ruari’s, and I don’t want any alpha that isn’t him. I don’t want to make a stupid dating profile, I just wanted someone to tell me I was being brave and doing the right thing and instead you’re both looking at me like I’ve—”
He ran out of words. A pain au chocolat had rolled under Felix’s chair and come to rest against the skirting board, leaving a smear of chocolate on the terracotta.
