Chapter 32 Flecks Of Starlight
Zane
The fifth time Seri refilled Casimir’s coffee before he’d taken two sips, I contemplated fratricide.
Not for the usual reasons. Okay, maybe ten percent for the usual reasons. Mostly, though, because our girl hadn’t so much as glanced at my empty mug since Mr. Tall-Blond-And-Traumatized woke up from his horror-induced beauty coma.
“Drink,” Seri ordered Casimir.
Her honey-gold curls caught the morning sun streaming through the bay windows, haloed like some avenging angel of overprotectiveness.
Cas’ eyelashes fluttered. Not the creepy kind, just his standard “I’m humoring you” blink.
His fingers brushed the steaming mug she’d commandeered from my place setting.
Again.
You could ask how he’s really doing, I thought.
With a sigh of sacrifice, I nudged the mental shield Cas maintained tighter than Seri’s grip on my dick last night and caught flickers.
Koa’s eyes clouding over in death. Me giving one final gasp.
Seri’s blood spilling down her shirt. Then he slammed the door in my face.
Telepathic equivalent of a “No Entry” sign.
Rude, much?
Brumster chose that moment to raise his front paws onto the table, his improved weight nearly tipping it and his paws skidding across Cas’ buttered toast.
“Brummy, no!” Seri lunged, but pup had priorities.
His nose twitched toward Cas’ plate with the single-minded determination of a furry guided missile.
“Bad boy!” I grabbed his scruff. His breath smelled like a dumpster fire marinated in sardines. “Cas, back me up here! Your dire wolf’s committing breakfast treason!”
“Our dire wolf,” Cas corrected, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
Progress. Three days ago, he couldn’t string three words together without breaking out in sweat colder than a witch’s tit.
Not your witchy tits, Seri, I offered in silent apology. Yours are always warm and squishy.
Now here he was sipping coffee and serving sass. My chest did this weird squeeze thing. Probably indigestion from jealousy and hash browns.
For seven whole days now, I’d watched Seri orbit around Casimir like a worried little moon, her hair trailing behind her as she fluttered from one task to the next.
Half-starved for her attention, I’d resorted to increasingly ridiculous antics: Balancing spoons on my nose at dinner, doing handstands in the living room, letting Brumous use me as a chew toy.
All for the fleeting glance of her gray eyes.
Not that I begrudged Cas the attention. Dude had been through hell, trapped in Amabel’s illusion where he watched us all die while unable to stop it. Even I, master of inappropriate humor, couldn’t joke about that particular flavor of torture.
Still, a man has needs. Specifically, the need to have his beloved actually look at him for more than three consecutive seconds outside of shaking the sheets with him at night.
“I swear, if you throw that grape at me, I will end you,” Koa muttered, not even looking up from the book he was reading. Supernatural hearing could be such a buzzkill sometimes.
“Aw.” I reluctantly lowered my ammunition. “You’re just mad because I’ve already nailed you twice without you noticing.”
“I noticed. I was being mature.” He turned a page with deliberate slowness, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Unlike some redheaded menaces I could mention.”
Cas snorted, sipping his coffee with his free hand.
His other hand, predictably, held Seri’s, thumb pressed tight to her radial pulse.
He’d been doing that constantly since he woke up properly a week ago, a little reassurance that she was still there, still real, still alive.
He did the same thing to Ko and me sometimes in the middle of the night.
“Maturity is overrated,” I declared, popping the grape into my mouth instead. “Just ask Brumous.”
On cue, the dire wolf pup looked up from the corner where he’d been relegated, his eyes bright with canine optimism.
Food? Alpha Fun, food? His thoughts skittered through my mind so easily now, simple and unfiltered just like him.
“See? Pure wisdom.” I tossed him a piece of sausage, which he snapped out of the air with impressive precision. Boy was turning into an excellent hunter as well as guardian for our girl.
Seri smiled fondly at the pup, then returned her focus to Cas.
“Are you sure you’re feeling better? You barely touched your eggs.” Her voice carried that delicate worried note that had become all too familiar lately.
“I’m fine, my love.” Cas’ green eyes softened in that way that meant he was melting inside. Only ever for her. “I ate three helpings of sausage and seven waffles plus fruit. I’m stuffed.”
“He’s been saying he’s fine for three days, beloved.” Ko finally gave up and marked his place in the book. “Maybe we should start believing him?”
“Careful, bro.” I leaned back in my chair, balancing it on two legs. “That sounded dangerously close to optimism. We might need to check you for fever next.”
Seri shot me a look of half exasperation, half amusement, and I nearly toppled over in my eagerness to soak up that precious attention. Pathetic? Maybe. But when you’ve spent a week being the equivalent of scenic wallpaper while your beloved dotes on your brother, you take what you can get.
“The memory’s still vivid, but I can differentiate reality now.” Cas’ free hand snatched the butter knife from my place setting. Fast as lightning, he flipped the blade and drove it quivering into the table between Koa’s splayed fingers. “See? I’m fine.”
“Not unscathed, but operational.” Ko reached across the table and clasped Cas’ shoulder firmly.
“Of course he’s operational!” I forced lightness back into the conversation like I always did when things got too heavy. “He’s Casimir fucking Cimmerian!”
Seri’s hands flew to her hips, white sundress fluttering like an outraged cloud.
“That’s not funny! What if you’d—”
“Missed?” Koa plucked the vibrating knife free, examining the edge. “He’s a Cimmerian. We don’t miss, baby.” He tossed the blade hilt-first to me. “Well. Except Zane that one time in Calgary.”
“Low blow, Koko. That moose came outta nowhere.”
I balanced the knife on my fingertip, letting it catch sunlight in prismatic flares. Casimir’s eyes tracked the reflections, alert and present. Good.
Then Seri’s pout hit me like a scatter shot of adorable.
That bottom lip jutting out simply begged me to suck it off of her lips.
I gripped my coffee mug a little tighter, trying not to broadcast exactly how that expression affected me, but my heart was currently doing its best impression of a death metal drummer.
“I suppose,” she conceded reluctantly. “But I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard, Simmy.”
“Says the woman who shadow-walked covered in injuries a little over a month ago,” I reminded her, earning a glare that probably would have incinerated me if she’d had her magic.
“That was different.”
“How, exactly?” Cas asked, one eyebrow raised in that particular way that meant he knew he had her cornered.
“I— Well— That is…” She shifted in her seat, her cheeks pinking. “It just was!”
“Bulletproof argument,” Ko said solemnly.
“Fine.” Seri pulled her hand out of Cas’ as she reached for her teacup. “I’ll accept that you don’t need to be handled with kid gloves so much.”
The loss of contact seemed to physically pain Cas, which would have been funny if it weren’t so damn heartbreaking.
“But,” she pointed her butter knife at him, “this does mean you’ve found out what it feels like to be overly cosseted. So the next time all of you are hovering over me like I’m made of glass, I’ll be sure to remind you.”
“Hovering? Us?” I pressed a hand to my chest in feigned offense. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘adoring.’ Or possibly ‘worshipping.’ Both apply.”
Brumous barked, either in agreement with Seri or to request more sausage. Based on the way his tail thumped against my shin, I was betting on the latter.
More food? Good food? Alpha Fun gives?
“Traitor,” I muttered, but still slipped him another piece. “He’s only agreeing with you because you sneak him extra treats.”
“I would never.” Seri’s eyes widened in mock innocence.
“Liar,” all three of us said in unison, which made her giggle.
Cruor, that sound! Shimmering like silver bells.
I’d raze cities to keep it safe. I’d missed it more than I’d realized.
For the past week, her laughter had been muted, careful, as if she were afraid too much joy might somehow jinx Cas’ recovery.
Now it bubbled up freely, brightening the room more effectively than the morning sun.
“You know,” Cas mused, leaning back in his chair, “I think I might be ready for a run today.”
“Start slow.” Ko nodded thoughtfully. “Just around the perimeter. I’ll go with you.”
“We’ll all go,” I said because the truth was, none of us were quite ready to let each other out of sight for long.
Amabel’s illusion might have targeted Cas directly, but it had screwed with all our heads.
“We can show Seri the fox den in the orchard. Little fuzzers should be coming out any time now.”
“I’d like that.” Her eyes met mine as she smiled.
Woo-hoo! Victory!
Brumous scrambled up, his nails clicking on the floor. His blue eyes darted between us as his tail became a blur of motion.
Outside, Alpha Fun? Run-run-run? All pack run?
“Yes, you, too, furball.” I reached down to scratch behind his ears. “But if you try to use me as a chew toy again, we’re gonna have words.”
His response was a jumble of happy images: Running through tall grass, chasing butterflies, all of us together under an open sky. Simple joys from a simple mind. Sometimes I envied the pup’s uncomplicated outlook.
“We could take lunch.” Seri was clearly warming to the idea. “Another picnic sounds—”
And Brumous vomited half a boot, a moon-damned boot, on my bare foot.