40. Phil
Phil
O ne of the major car companies had been working on making a vehicle for weres, one that didn’t need apposable thumbs, hands, feet, or human voice command.
The trend toward automatic, self-driving cars had derailed the research, making it outdated before it hit the market.
Self-driving cars that could be controlled when weres were in their alternate forms were expected to hit the market within the next three years.
Today, Sedrick still needed his hands and feet and slipped back into his humanoid form before climbing behind the wheel. He was still naked and bloody, though the blood was nearly dry; below it, his wounds had already begun healing.
Dillon and Ruthie leaped into the truck bed. They might only be children, but their wolf forms took up almost the entire space. I crawled into the passenger seat. When I started to buckle in, Sedrick pulled me closer, positioning me in the middle, the left side of my body pressed against him.
I could feel Sedrick’s intense heat through my spider silk fabric. A shiver ran through me, my body anything but cold. Turning slightly, I leaned into Sedrick, my head on his shoulders, allowing my wings more room.
“Is this okay?” My voice was so low and raspy that I barely recognized it.
“It’s perfect.” Sedrick nuzzled the top of my head, inhaling deeply. “You’re perfect.”
My parents hadn’t even called me that, though I think they thought it. “I’m hardly perfect.”
“You’re perfect for me. Perfect for Dillon and Ruthie.
Perfect for our home. That’s more than enough for me.
It’s more than I deserve, but I’m not gonna complain, and I’m never giving you up again, Phil.
” Sedrick placed a finger under my chin and lifted my face.
His wolf shone in the tender glow of his eyes. “Do you hear that, Phil? You’re mine.”
“And you’re mine?” It came out as more of a question than I’d intended.
“Damn straight.”
Sedrick started up his truck, and we lurched onto the road. Dillon and Ruthie scrabbled for purchase in the truck bed but quickly found their footing as we eased onto the road and headed home.
“Pixies and werewolves don’t mate.” I couldn’t think of an example, one singular time I’d heard of it.
“Who says?” Sedrick shot me an askance glance before his eyes fixed back on the road.
“I don’t think there’s anything in fairy law that says they can’t.
If there were, I’m sure Hamish would have brought it up.
” Sedrick’s chest rumbled with distaste, and I wondered if he’d ever be able to speak Hamish McIntyre’s name without disdain.
I chewed on my bottom lip. “You really want to mate me? You don’t have to, you know. You’ve got me no matter what. I’ve bonded with your house—”
“It’s our home, not my house, Phil.”
My cheeks warmed. “Our home,” I echoed. “I’m not going anywhere, not unless you force me to. I—”
“I already told you, you’re not going anywhere. And stop sounding so damn apologetic about bonding to our home, Ruthie, Dillon, and me.”
“But it’s beyond rude. Pixies don’t . . .
I mean, there’s protocol and . . . stuff.
It’s simply not done. My mom and dad will be so disappointed in me.
” I hadn’t had time to call them or update them on what was happening.
I’d spoken with them twice since leaving Sedrick’s house— our home , I silently reminded myself.
They’d gotten a letter warning them of a pending lawsuit.
They’d also gotten another impromptu fairy who’d shown up at their door.
Only this fairy was sent by Ray. I’d need to call them soon, and not just to let them know I’d screwed up and done a very taboo pixie faux pas.
The repercussions of Arie Belview’s loss would be felt across the country. Another band constricting my chest loosened. My parents were safe. Sedrick had made sure of that.
I quietly gasped, the full force of what I felt settling in.
I allowed it to bloom, to grow into the most tenacious weed—something that couldn’t be trampled, impeded, or rooted out.
I loved the werewolf I was pressed against. I didn’t have to suppress or hide it.
I could let that love free—uncage it and release it into the wild.
My chest felt near to bursting. Resting my hand against Sedrick’s scruffy jaw, I said, “I love you, Sedrick Voss.”
Sedrick’s arm tightened around my waist while his opposite hand knuckled against the steering wheel. “I love you too, Phil. I plan to show you how much when I’m all healed up.”
My hand slid down Sedrick’s neck, resting on his chest, allowing me to feel the rumble of pleasure that shook his body.
Had I dipped my fingers a little lower, I could have run them along the thick shaft of his erection.
Edward had caused a lot of physical damage, but Sedrick’s cock had escaped punishment and jutted up—loud and most definitely proud.
* * *
“I want you both to go in, change, and put some clothes on. We need to talk.” Sedrick still had his arm around me as we walked toward our home. The door opened, whisper-soft and wonderfully welcoming before Sedrick could lay a hand on the lock.
Inhaling deeply, Sedrick’s fingers squeezed just a little tighter. “That’s going to take some getting used to.” When the lights automatically came on, dim but present, Sedrick added, “That too.”
Dillon and Ruthie didn’t have the same hang-ups and trotted off to Ruthie’s room. Sedrick looked down at the dried blood flaking off his body and scowled. “Moon Goddess, I stink like Edward. I need a shower, but I need to speak with Ruthie and Dillon first.”
My pixie senses weren’t as sharp. All I smelled was the tang of copper.
I couldn’t tell who it belonged to. I didn’t need my sense of smell to stare at the hard, muscular planes of Sedrick’s body.
Only the jaggedly healing lacerations and bite marks, surrounded by violet-blue bruising, tempered my blood rushing south.
“Could you maybe put some clothes on too? You’re a little distracting.” I waved a hand in the general direction of Sedrick’s body before I turned and got glasses of water, then checked for something to make a late-night snack. Werewolves were notorious eaters, even more so when they transformed.
Sedrick chuckled, low, deep, and full of promise.
“I’ll go throw some pants on if I’m distracting you.
” His laughter dimmed as he walked toward his bedroom, reappearing quickly.
Dillon and Ruthie were hot on his heels.
By the time they entered the kitchen, I had a plate of lunch meat, cheese, and three different types of potato chips on the table.
“Sit down,” I ordered. “I’ll get your drinks.”
Sedrick didn’t offer to help. He fell into a kitchen chair and loaded up a plate with meat piled high.
Food was wolfed down in record time, the sound of munching only interrupted here and there by much-needed inhales of breath.
I pulled up the special backless chair Sedrick had gotten me, pleasure rolling through every fiber of my being.
This was my home, my family. Sedrick was an alpha through and through.
He defended his pack and fought for them.
There was no greater satisfaction for an alpha werewolf.
As a home-and-hearth pixie, seeing those I’d bonded to well-fed and safe within the home I protected offered that same sense of overwhelming satisfaction. It gave me purpose.
When the food on the table had been demolished, Sedrick leaned back into his chair. My hands itched to tend to his wounds, but he didn’t need that. Within forty-eight hours, he’d be completely healed whether I interfered or not.
“We need to talk.” Sedrick’s gaze flitted to Dillon but settled on Ruthie.
I thought it was an odd choice of words, considering Ruthie hadn’t spoken since she’d witnessed her parents’ deaths.
Dillon didn’t have that problem. “You kicked his ass, Uncle Sed. Just like I knew you would.” Dillon puffed up, crossing his arms over his chest, pride oozing from every pour. It was as if Dillon had defeated Edward with his own claws.
Sedrick’s cautious grin humbled Dillon’s excitement.
“Death is rarely something to be celebrated, Dillon.” Sedrick glanced down at his battered body.
“And I think Edward did a fair amount of ass-kicking too. He was a challenging opponent. Edward was strong and did as his alpha commanded. He died in the challenge ring, and that is an honorable death. We should—”
“You’re wrong.” Every head turned, eyes wide as we stared at Ruthie.
Her head was bowed, light brown hair mussed and flopping over her downturned eyes.
Ruthie stared at her lap as she said a little more forcefully.
“He wasn’t honorable.” Ruthie’s words scratched past her throat, her apathetic vocal cords fighting against use.
“Shit,” Dillon cursed, scooting so he could grasp Ruthie’s hands. “You just said something.”
“We’re gonna have a conversation about your language soon,” Sedrick scolded Dillon, but his words were forgotten as he focused on his niece. “Ruthie, honey, can you tell us what you mean?” Sedrick didn’t sound as amazed as Dillon or I looked when Ruthie’s mouth opened and actual words tumbled out.
Ruthie’s nose scrunched, and she ran her free hand under it, sniffing loudly. “He killed them.”
Gasped breaths rattled our home, but those gasps came from Dillon and me.
Sedrick remained stone still. “Who, Ruthie? Who did Edward kill?”
Ruthie’s head tilted up ever so slightly. She looked so lost. Her eyes were incredibly wide, shimmering with unshed tears. Ruthie’s lips trembled.
Unable to just sit there, I scooped Ruthie up and set her in my lap. “It’s okay, sweetie,” I cooed into her ear, brushing her tangled hair away from her face. “You’re safe here. You can say what you need to, and no one is going to hurt you.”
No one would ever hurt any of the Vosses again.