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Castor is moving in.
“No. She’s had enough.” I wrap her torso in my discarded shirt, letting the skirt fall back down, and carefully carry my mate back to her borrowed pod room. I want nothing more than for her to have her own. It won’t be this grand, but it will be nice. Nicer than my apartment, but without the Picassos of the Drakos home.
Her eyes are closed. And seriously, what she’s been through today is more than any male I’ve ever met could tolerate. We don’t have fated mates. But my world stirred the first time I laid eyes on her.
We’re a dozen steps out of the ballroom when she lifts her head. “Where are you taking me?”
“To bed.”
“No.” Her blues are wide open now.
“To sleep, Annabelle. You need to sleep.”
“Youneed to sleep.” Her sass is back. She might be right, but sleep isn’t going to come for me today. “They promised if I worked on learning the dances, I could learn something about using the trident.”
“You’re too tired.” I don’t stop walking. “It wouldn’t be safe. You need a fresh mind and body.”
“A promise is a promise.”
“I keep my promises, and I wasn’t foolhardy enough to make that one.”
“Put me down.” She squirms. “Please.”
I twitch. I want to throw her over my shoulder and use straps to tie her to the bed. But something in me snaps when she says please. I set her on her feet. Holter and Castor are following along like two guilty thieves.
She’s at them, her pointer finger tapping first Holter and then Castor in the chest. “You did promise.”
“Aren’t you too tired?” Holter smooths her ponytail.
“No.” She punches her arms through the sleeves of my tunic. It hangs around her knees.
“You can’t fight dressed like that.” Castor’s voice cracks a whisper.
“Yeah.” She jumps up, clapping, and runs for the pod room.
I widen my eyes at the two of them. “It’s going on midnight.”
Castor shrugs. “She’s your mate. Maybe she doesn’t need sleep either.”
The growl out of my chest bounces around the hallway. I’m going to regret helping them keep their promise. If I didn’t need them to take care of her after I was gone, this is how I could drive them apart. But I do need them. Fuck. I march down the hall into the pod room.
Annabelle managed to quickly find a slim-fitting tunic. She stands by the door. “This will work?”
“Yes, that will work.”
“Just the basics. Let’s go to the gym.” Her enthusiasm leads us down the hallway.
“We don’t have a trident here to use,” I say, “so we’ll—”
“Yes, we do. I bought one.” She grabs the white cloth bag Holter was carrying.
My gut tightens. “You bought one?”
She leans her head forward and says, “Yes.” Rapidly, like I’m the one who’s gone mad.
I turn to Castor, who points to Holter. “Seriously?”
“Ophelia’s instructions were to get a ballgown, show her the marketplace, buy a few things, and have dinner at the market.” Holter gives me a shrug like that answers everything.
