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“You work for the Ministry?” This information seemed to be far more important to Tyr than anything supernatural.
Erus dipped his head.
The Guardian mirrored the movement as some of the tension eased from his neck and shoulders. He looked to Orrin again. “You’re really mated to him?”
“Yes. It’s really okay, Tyr. He won’t hurt me.”
“I get that, but do you really want to be mated to him?”
“Of course, he does,” Erus answered, growing tired of the asshole’s insufferable attitude.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Yes,” Orrin blurted, clearly uncomfortable with their bickering. “I’ve waited a long time to find my mate, and I believe fate has chosen well for me.”
A little too formal, kind of stiff, but his words still appeased Erus. Before he could respond in kind, the front doors opened again, and a tiny male bounded into the lobby. Wearing a pair of fleece bottoms in a startling shade of pink and a gray sweatshirt four sizes too big for him, his eyes lit up like Christmas morning when he spotted the prince.
“Orrin!” he shouted as he bounded across the room, his long golden hair fanning out behind him.
He rushed past the group of Guardians, and to Erus’ surprise and displeasure, the males just let him go. Though small in stature, and a human to boot, that didn’t mean he posed no threat.
Less than a yard away, he threw his arms out wide and leapt into the air, his trajectory sure to send him right into Orrin’s arms. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Catching the little menace by the back of his collar, Erus jerked him back and lifted him into the air so that his furry cow slippers fell to the floor.
“Hey!” Instead of wiggling or trying to free himself, he folded his arms over his chest and actually fucking pouted. “What gives, dude?”
“Dude?”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know your name.”
Wren Covey McIver. Human. Mid-twenties. Probably the least threatening soul in existence.
Pacified, Erus looked at his mate with an arched brow. “Do you know this infant?”
“Rude,” Wren grumbled.
Eyes wide with alarm, Orrin grabbed his wrist and tugged insistently. “Yes, I know him. He’s my friend.”
“See?” Wren stared down at his socked feet. “Does that mean you can maybe put me down now?”
Shrugging, Erus lowered him gently to the floor. The moment his feet touched the tiles, Orrin took his hand and dragged him to his side.
“Who left you unsupervised?” Sindri called, his smile so wide that it showed every one of his perfectly straight teeth.
“Thorne ran into Cyrus outside. They’re talking about boring stuff, so I came to find Kol.” Wrapping both arms around Orrin’s elbow, Wren hugged the elf, as he twisted from side to side. “Then I saw Orrin, and here I am.”
Though Erus didn’t know who Kol or Cyrus were, following context clues, he deduced the other male in question was Thorne McIver. Him, he knew. In fact, the shifter had been one of the last Guardians he’d trained before turning the duty over to the Ministry.
Releasing the prince’s arm, Wren shoved his feet into his cow slippers and bounced over to Erus with an outstretched hand. “I still don’t know your name.”
“This is Erus,” Orrin said, hovering at the human’s shoulder. “My mate.”
“Really? Congratulations.” He jabbed his hand forward more insistently. “So, where are you from?”
“Hell,” he answered casually as he accepted the hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong. “You may know me as Cerberus, Guardian of the Underworld.”
