Chapter 6 Percival
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Percival
The credits rolled on what had to be the worst movie ever made.
Three days of this, and I’ve turned terrible movies into a tradition. I pick the disasters, Mira tears them apart, and sometimes Lucian or Solomon wander in pretending they’re not interested. They always stay until the end.
“That was garbage,” Mira said from the other end of the couch. “Absolute hot garbage.”
“The best kind of garbage.” I tossed a piece of popcorn at her head. She caught it in her mouth without looking, and my wolf did a little backflip of approval. “You even laughed thrice so at the very least, it was entertaining.”
“I laughed at how bad it was.”
“Still counts.”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. Three days at the cabin and I’d become an expert in her restrained smiles. The tiny cracks in the armor she wore around herself. Each one is a victory for me.
Mine, my wolf rumbled. Ours.
Lucian and Solomon had left for a supply run an hour ago. They’d tried to argue about who should stay behind, but I’d shut that down fast.
“I’m technically the king’s bodyguard,” I’d said. “Guarding people is my job.”
Deep down, what I didn’t say is that I was the one who was supposedly on watch when Hudson slipped through. Even if they don’t blame me, I still blame myself.
My wolf snarled at the memory. I wanted to find Hudson and rip his fucking head off. To feel his spine crack between my jaws.
Lucian and Solomon understood this and let me stay. Because right now, protecting her was the only thing that quieted the rage.
“Okay.” Mira shifted on the couch, turning to face me properly. “We’ve watched four terrible movies in three days. I know your stance on pineapple pizza, which is wrong by the way.”
“It’s delicious and you’re a coward.”
“I know you burn toast consistently and that you’re a bad singer.” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. The copper roots were getting more visible as each day passed.
My brain short-circuited.
It was just her ear. Just the neck exposed for half a second. But my wolf locked onto it, and suddenly I was thinking whether she’d make sounds or go quiet when I finally got my mouth on her.
My jeans got uncomfortable. Fantastic. Getting hard over a woman tucking her hair back. This was a new low, even for me.
I shifted on the couch, hoping she wouldn’t notice and couldn’t smell what she did to me the way I could smell every shift in her.
“But I don’t actually know anything real about you.”
“You know plenty.”
My voice came out normal, casual. As if I wasn’t imagining pinning her to these cushions right at this moment.
“I know surface stuff. Movie opinions and food crimes. Even your allergy, the other night.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Defensive posture, but her eyes were curious. “You call yourself Percy. Is that short for something?”
My wolf stirred. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the answer you’re getting.”
“Rude.” But she was smiling now. “Fine. I’ll trade you.”
“Trade me what?”
“Information.” She rested her chin on her knees. “You tell me something real, I tell you something real. Fair exchange.”
I studied her. The way she was watching me, cautious but hopeful. Testing the waters and seeing if I’d meet her halfway.
“Alright.” I shifted to mirror her position, one leg tucked under me. “But I get to ask first.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m bigger.”
She snorted. “That’s your reasoning?”
“Yup, size matters.”
“In what context, exactly?”
The laugh that burst out of me was genuine. The images that flooded my mind were not suitable for polite company. “Okay, I walked into that one. Fine. You ask first.”
She considered for a moment, head tilted. “What’s your actual name? “
“Percival.”
“Percival,” she repeated slowly, testing each syllable.
Every muscle in my body locked up. The sound of my full name in her voice hit me somewhere primal. Far from the friendly guy I pretended to be. My wolf wanted to hear her say it again, wanted to hear her scream it.
“That’s very... formal.”
“It’s very old.” I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the feral edge. “My turn. What’s yours?”
“Wait.” She held up a hand. “Just Percival? No last name?”
“No last name.”
“How is that possible?”
I shrugged, keeping my voice light even as my chest stirred.
“I was found as a baby with nothing but a locket and a blanket. Just the name Percival engraved on the back.” I flashed her a grin.
“I guess it sounds very dramatic. I’m still waiting for the movie deal, honestly.
Abandoned baby with a mysterious locket?
That’s got franchise potential written all over it. ”
She didn’t laugh. Just kept looking at me with those mismatched eyes, seeing past my bullshit for the first time.
“Percy...”
“It’s fine. Ancient history.” I waved a hand. “Besides, I found my people eventually. Lucian. Solomon. They’re the only family I need.”
And you, my wolf added. You’re ours now too.
I didn’t say that part out loud.
“Your turn,” I said, steering us back to safer ground. “What’s yours?”
She went still. Just for a second, but I caught it.
“You already know my name.”
“I know what people call you. That’s not the same thing.”
Her fingers curled tighter around her knees. I watched her weigh the risk, watched her decide whether to trust me with this small piece of herself.
“Maxwell,” she said finally. “Mira Maxwell.”
Maxwell. I filed it away in the back of my mind.
“Nice to officially meet you, Mira Maxwell.” I extended my hand with exaggerated formality, keeping my voice light even as my wolf paced beneath my skin. “I’m Percival, terrible cook and lover of pineapple pizza.”
She took my hand. Her palm was warm, smaller than mine, and the contact sent a jolt straight through my arm. I could feel her pulse, count the beats if I wanted.
Was that because of me?
“Nice to meet you, Percival.”
That name again. My wolf didn’t purr this time, it growled.
I should have let go of her hand. I knew that but I didn’t. I couldn’t.
And she didn’t pull away either.
My eyes dropped to where our hands were still connected. Then traveled up her arm. Her collarbone. The column of her throat. And finally her face, where those mismatched eyes were watching me with curiosity.
One brown, one blue. Both absolutely fucking devastating.
I’d noticed them before. But this close, with her hand still in mine and her scent wrapping around me, I couldn’t look away. The brown was warm, safe. The blue was wild, ocean deep. The kind of eye you could drown in if you weren’t careful.
Hell, I wasn’t feeling particularly careful.
“Can I say something?” My voice came out lower than I intended.
“What?”
I shifted closer. Just an inch, testing. Her breath caught, but she didn’t move back.
“I like your red hair more.”
Her lips parted. “What?”
I reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away. She didn’t. My fingers found a strand of copper bleeding through the dark dye, and I tucked it behind her ear. Let my fingertips graze the shell of her ear, the curve of her jaw.
Her skin was so soft. I wanted to trace every inch of it with my mouth.
“The red,” I said, holding her gaze. “It looks beautiful on you.”
She wasn’t breathing. Neither was I.
Her pupils were blown wide, lips slightly parted, and my wolf was howling at me to close the distance. To find out if she tasted as good as she smelled and…
The front door opened, breaking the moment.
Lucian and Solomon filed in carrying grocery bags. Mira jumped slightly at the sudden noise, then caught herself. I watched her shoulders relax when she registered who it was.
Progress. She was starting to feel safe here.
“You’re back early,” I said.
“Store was nearly empty.” Lucian set his bags on the counter, his eyes flicking to Mira with an intensity he probably thought was subtle. “Everything alright here?”
“We watched a movie about killer sharks in a tornado,” Mira said. “It was terrible.”
“Sharknado is a classic,” I protested.
Solomon made a sound that might have been a laugh. Coming from him, that was practically a standing ovation.
Mira stood, stretching, and my shirt rode up on her frame. She’d been wearing my clothes for three days because she still didn’t have new clothes. We should fix that. Probably take her shopping and be a gentleman about it.
But the sight of her drowning in my faded band tee, sleeves hanging past her elbows, makes my wolf want to growl with satisfaction.
“I need air,” she announced.
Lucian’s head snapped up. “Outside?”
“No, I was thinking of breathing the air in the closet.” She crossed her arms. “Yes, outside. Maybe even in town. Among people. Revolutionary concept, I know.”
“Hudson is still-”
“Hiding somewhere, yes, I’m aware.” Her jaw tightened. “But I can’t stay locked in this cabin forever. I’m going stir crazy and I need to see something other than these four walls and your faces.”
“Our faces are delightful, don’t you agree?” I flash her my best boyish grin, dimples and all. The one that usually gets me out of trouble.
Her cheeks flush, and she rolls her eyes to cover it. “Your humility aside, your faces are constantly everywhere. It gets suffocating.”
She had a point. We weren’t exactly subtle about the whole obsessive protection thing. Probably because we were, in fact, obsessed.
Lucian opened his mouth to argue. I jumped in before this turned into a standoff.
“Let us take her to the firehouse.”
Both of them turned to look at me. Mira with surprise and Lucian with warning.
“She can see where we work,” I continued, ignoring my king’s very pointed glare. “Meet some of the crew. Get out for a few hours.”
“Percival.” Lucian’s voice dropped low. He’s using my first name which is telling of his current temper. I decided to gamble my chances, anyway.