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“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Losing your ability to shift must have been terrible. Your wolf was so beautiful.”
“There’s no sense in dwelling on it. Better to just move on.”
Reaching for his hand, I squeezed. “No, Atlas. Sometimes it’s better to feel what you feel and grieve.”
I might as well have been talking to a wall for all the emotional response I got. He blinked three times, and everything haunted on his face, lit solely by the ball of fire, was gone. Replaced with something stoic and methodical. I was beginning to see all the similarities between us to a haunting degree. He clicked his tongue twice, shifting the horses on the path.
Taking advantage of my power, I let a small amount seep forward, if only to convince myself that he was okay. But there was nothing there beyond that black mark. No feelings at all. As if he’d actually cast them away with magic he didn’t know he had.
“You’re staring,” he said finally.
“Sorry, Atlas. Lost in my own thoughts, I guess.”
“Call me Atty. Everyone else does. Atlas feels so formal and trite.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He nudged me with his right arm. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m used to traveling quickly and lightly. I’ll be okay.”
Pulling back on the reins, he called out, “Whoa, fellas.” When the sleigh came to a stop, he hopped out and opened a trunk.
“Fish, fruit, bread and cheese. What sounds good?”
“How the hell do you have fruit in winter? I haven’t had fruit for months.” My stomach growled at the thought.
He flashed a wolfish grin. “I guess it’s your lucky day, Frostbite.”
Moments later, when he handed me the soft pear, I didn’t hesitate as I closed my eyes and sank my teeth into the fleshy side, letting the juice run down my chin, and moaning at the sweet taste. When I pulled the fruit away, I glanced at Atlas to thank him.
Eyes wide and jaw slackened, he audibly swallowed as he reached for another pear and handed it to me without blinking. “Do it again.”
I burst into laughter as I swiped the pear. This time taking an obnoxiously large bite and moaning like a wild animal while I wiggled in the seat, batting my eyelashes.
He laughed, grabbing the reins to direct the horses over the stone bridge between the covens. “Ruined it.”
8
“Is that Crescent Cottage?”
We had stopped in what used to be the town square in the Moon Coven. Most of the buildings were in utter disrepair, some gone completely. But two women stood together outside of a building I was sure had been destroyed during the Grimoire battle.
“The second version, yes. Come on. They won’t bite.”
“Was that a shifter joke?” I asked, letting him take my hand.
“No. I’m quite certain Kir would actually bite someone, no matter what her species. Nym’s safe though. Stay close to her.”
As we neared them, Atlas didn’t drop my hand, and I didn’t pull away. Both women, one a fierce blonde and the other a stunning black woman with golden bands on her arms and tied into her hair, kept their eyes locked on our intertwined fingers.
“Blink three times if he’s kidnapped you,” the blonde woman said in introduction.
“That’ll be the biter,” Atlas warned. “Ladies, this is Marley. Marley,”—he pointed with his chin—“Kirsi and Nym.”
They exchanged a glance before looking me over. Kirsi seemed far more scrupulous as she scanned me and then the horse-drawn sleigh behind us.
“The red hair tells me you’ll kick his ass if he’s being a dick. The hand-holding tells me he’s trying not to be, but what’s the sleigh for?”
