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It only took me approximately three long minutes after Hawl showed up to realize I was in the way.

I mean, not physically. Because to be honest, the bear could probably have picked me up and dumped me out in the hallway like an unwanted kitten if they’d wanted to. Which was … not exactly good for my ego.

Anyhow, I’d watched Hawl pass Pendragon the letter from her family. When she opened it, her face had gotten pretty wobbly. Then Hawl had glared at me—at least I was pretty sure that was a glare; with all the fur, it was hard to tell—and then I’d scooted out into the hallway and heard the door bang after me.

I decided I’d give them an hour, then check back.

I suspected that when I returned, Pendragon’s face was going to be red and wet. Maybe her nose would even be a little runny.

If that were the case, I’d show that bloody bear the door. Then I’d scoop my girl up into my arms, lay her on the bed, dab at her nose with a kerchief gently, and you know, just kiss all her problems away.

Something like that.

No one made my little dragon cry. Not even a fucking talking bear.

In this case, it wasn’t the bear per se but the letter, so I was allowing it. Because I knew Pendragon needed to hear from her family. But fuck, the aftermath was going to be brutal.

I just hoped the letter didn’t have instructions on how to get rid of me. It probably did, but knowing Pendragon, she wouldn’t follow them. She’d probably tease me about it forever, though.

I pounded down the stairs to the Drakharrow common room. The space was comfortable, even now with the world in turmoil. Dark wood, deep red rugs, black leather sofas that had probably already survived a century of boots and blood.

There was always food in the common room. The place could be falling apart at the seams, and there’d probably still be a side table set up with plates and trays. I wandered over, pouring myself a cup of kava and grabbing a bun. It was fresh from the oven and stuffed with spiced meat. As I turned, my coffee in one hand, the bun halfway to my mouth again, I caught movement in one of the alcoves by the window. My eyes got there before my brain could and … I froze.

Vaughn sat there on the bench. Theo was with him—more like on top of him. They weren’t indecent per se, they were fully clothed, but wrapped around each other in a way that suggested they’d forgotten the rest of the world existed. Theo’s mouth was at Vaughn’s throat. His hand cupped the back of his boyfriend’s neck protectively. Vaughn’s head was tipped back against the wall of the alcove, his eyes half-lidded, one hand fisted in my cousin’s shirt.

The moment was so intimate that I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t move. Finally my body kicked into gear for me. I took an instinctive step back, and my kava sloshed over the side of the cup and onto my hand. I cursed before I could stop myself.

Instantly, the spell broke. Theo broke away from Vaughn’s neck, blood rimming his lips.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

I turned away so fast I walked into the buffet table. Damn, that hurt. I’d have a bruise on my hip. Smooth, Drakharrow. Maybe Pendragon would kiss it better. I crossed the room, found the farthest couch I could, and sat down with my back very deliberately angled away from the alcove. My face felt hot, which was stupid. I wasn’t twelve, just a perfectly mature, completely emotionally balanced, and in no way toxic or morally fucked-up twenty-five-year-old highblood man, thank you very much.

I took a sip of the kava and burned my tongue. Fuck. Just fucking perfect. I tried to force my shoulders to loosen up. My mind kept going back to the image of Theo and Vaughn. Don’t get me wrong, there’d been nothing arousing about it. But they’d looked … well, beautiful, I guess. I’d never seen my cousin like that with anyone. The way he’d touched Vaughn had been so tender. I wondered if that was how I looked with Pendragon. Was it weird that I was thinking that?

Vaughn Sabino … Not too long ago he’d wanted me in chains. I knew he and Theo had sorted that out. We hadn’t talked, but I’d forgiven him—and it wasn’t as if he owed me an apology after what I’d done, especially considering he was blightborn. But seeing him like that—soft and trusting, letting a highblood hold him—made something twist in my chest.

I was just thinking of heading to the library or taking a walk outside when a hand slapped my back hard enough for the sip of kava I’d just taken to go down the wrong way. I coughed and choked as Theo dropped onto the couch opposite me, looking like he owned it—which we basically did—and grinning like nothing had happened.

“You trying to kill me, cuz?” I coughed again, then set down the cup.

“Maybe,” Theo said, cheerfully. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

I glared at him.

“Never took you for a snooper.” Theo whistled.

“A snooper? I’m not a fucking snooper.” I glared at him, then saw he was teasing. “Dammit, Theo. I didn’t mean to see that. I said I was sorry.”

He leaned back, resting his head on his arms. “I know. Relax.” He eyed me curiously. “I guess I’m just trying to make sense of the look on your face when you saw us.”

I nodded. “You looked so happy. Both of you. It seemed like a perfect moment. I’m sorry I spoiled it.”

“You didn’t spoil it, you asshole.”

I laughed. “All right, then.” I looked at him. “I’m really glad, you know. Glad you have Vaughn. I’m happy that you’re happy.”