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"Very well," Underwood sighed out, stoppering the bottle of my blood and wisely tucking it away in his satchel before Hywel or Conall tried to steal it back.
"Come, my love, let's go find where Auguste is and see if we can't help him," Esther coaxed, winking at me as she guided the doctor from the room.
"It really didn't hurt," I murmured, relaxing into the back of the couch.
"Mm, I know, which is why the good doctor left the room unscathed," Hywel muttered, rolling his shoulders.
"We simply aren't inclined to shareanypart of you,mo chroí," Conall said, swinging himself around on the couch to rest his head in my lap.
Hywel grunted his agreement and launched over the back of the couch to squish himself in at my side. "In fact, as much as I've enjoyed the company of our guests, I wouldn't mind an evening apart, just the four of us."
He reached over my lap, resting his hand on Conall's chest. Conall's eyebrows bounced in surprise, but I put my own hand over Hywel's and Conall stacked his on top, linking us all together.
I rested my head on Hywel's shoulder. "It would be nice, although I'd hate to offend the others."
"I doubt anyone will mind. We've been elbow to elbow with each other for three weeks now. Not sure I really have it in me to sit through another night ofcharades," Conall muttered.
It'd been three days since the others had left, and Conall had finally broken the news to me last night that it'd likely be closer to a week or two before we saw them again. We had been trying to keep up a cheerful facade amongst the group, but it was starting to falter. Even staid and peaceful Booker had broken into a morose frown the night before when no one had been able to guess what he was meant to be acting out while simply standing still and frozen.
"Ezra would've guessed it," the stone gentleman said with a heavy sigh. "Blarney Stone."
Conall had laughed, but he'd cut the sound off abruptly as Esther fell into sniffling tears.
The door of the small, sunny room we occupied opened, and it was Laszlo rather than Auguste who carried in a tray of pastries. He paused at the sight of us, a smile lighting up his face and making the sunshine seem a bit more earnest.
"Ah, is it just us?" he asked, not hiding his pleasure.
"We'll have private dinners tonight," Hywel declared, kissing my head. "I'll have the dreamers take care of everything."
Laszlo waved a hand, stopping Conall from rising to make room for him, and sat on the floor instead, beautifully informal and cozy as he leaned into my legs. Conall's free hand rose to pet and stroke at Laszlo's wings, while the gryphon took turns feeding each of us. I sucked on his thumb, meeting the bright gleam in his gaze and letting it warm me.
* * *
The snarl calledacross the meadow, and I braced myself, Laszlo and I both rolling our eyes heavenward.
"Conall—" Laszlo snapped, his infinite patience finding a breaking point at last.
It was too late. Tightly banding arms snatched me off my feet, yanking me away from the false threat of Laszlo and the fighting staff. I dropped the staff I'd been holding as well, before the temptation to knock Conall over the head with it grew too persuasive.
"Ican't," Conall answered Laszlo with a desperate growl.
"We're only training," I murmured, feigning a sympathy that my werewolf had worn away in the past hour.
"I know," he moaned, pressing his scowling face into my breastbone. I sighed and stroked my fingers through his loose hair, frowning as I found the back of his neck. He was almost feverish, sweating when the day was actually quite nice and cool, shivering under my touch.
"You either must leave the field—" Laszlo started once more, marching toward us.
"No!" Conall barked, whipping around to bare brilliant fangs at the gryphon.
Laszlo stopped short, eyes wide and lips downturned.
"Conall!"
Conall shook but refused to release me, his eyelids sinking closed. "I'm sorry, Laz. I-I—"
We had moved my training outdoors when we realized that Conall was too agitated by the monsters who weren't part of our little unit, but he'dneversnapped at Laszlo this way. I didn't blame Laszlo for the injured wince of his expression.
"You need to settle this," Laszlo said, sharp and cool, gaze glancing through his spectacles before turning away from us.
