Conall
The bedroom smells of vanilla lotion, the wind off the lake, and the faint sweetness of her.
The floor creaks as I make my way to the other side of the bed.
She goes straight to the connected bathroom.
I change quickly into sweatpants and boxers, way more than the usual nothing I sleep in, but that doesn't seem like it's going to fly tonight.
The bed is full-sized. Not even a queen.
There's no way we're getting any space here.
And my hound? Well, he's pretty fucking out of control at this point.
Mate.
Mate.
Mate.
I grit my teeth and shove him down deep.
Then I let out a breath and sink to the edge of the bed.
The spark. I'd thought, hoped, it was just the magic of the new contract settling.
Not a mating bond. I'm still not sure I believe it.
Nick is a demon, and demons find the most joy in causing mayhem.
But my hound, God, he's been obsessed with Ivy since he first saw her.
Which means I have to keep him on a short leash.
Ivy comes out of the bathroom, and the air goes out of me.
She's in a silky shorts-and-tank set. Her long, smooth legs look endless beneath the hem.
Freckles dust across her chest and shoulders.
Her hair falls loose, brushing the tops of her shoulders in dark brown waves.
It's hot tonight, and the cottage doesn't have air conditioning, so the set makes sense, but I have to take a few deep breaths and concentrate on things like horse shit and my own tenuous freedom to get back to a safe baseline.
I expect this to be awkward, but she doesn't say anything or linger.
She just lifts the covers and slides in without a word, turning her back to me.
I run a hand through my hair one last time.
Mate, my hound huffs.
Behave, I growl back internally.
I lift the blanket and slip under, letting the undersized mattress sink beneath my weight.
I face the wall, but it doesn't matter. Even with my knees hanging off the edge and my arms tucked against me, my back still presses against hers.
Every inch where we meet tingles with the sharp awareness of her warmth, of the silk of her shirt dragging across my spine every time she breathes.
I can feel the steady thump of her heart alongside mine.
"So," she starts, voice soft in the dark,. "that stuff the demon lawyer said…" She trails off. I control my breathing, slow and steady, keeping myself tightly under control.
"Yeah?" I say, hoping she'll let it go. The words won’t come tonight. Not for this.
"That's crazy talk, right? Like, you just went along with it for cover.
" It's almost a question and almost a statement, and I want to avoid the former.
"I mean, what an insane theory. I think my aunt randomly picked me out of all her ancestors.
I don't think it was because we're mates. That's not a thing."
I wait. One thing I've learned about Ivy is that she'll talk herself in a circle and answer half her own questions.
"Like, if mates were a thing, then I wouldn't have ended up with a gaslighting ex who stole everything I built, right? I'd just wait around for what, some magic orb to tell me who my mate was?" She laughs a little at the end, and I feel it vibrate through my back.
I don't say anything. I can't, because every molecule of my body has shut off so I can focus on the ones touching her.
"Conall?" she whispers, turning slightly toward me and pressing her shoulder more firmly into my side.
"We need to sleep. I saw Laz in town before the meeting, and he said he might have something on Shipton's spell." She shifts back, and I breathe. I listen as her breathing evens out, feel her muscles relax, and her form settle more snugly against me. I lie awake with my hound's endless chant.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
The glow of a will-o'-the-wisp in the window makes my hackles rise. Just like Amy guessed. A spy. Well, they can report that we sleep. It floats away.
I finally find sleep, too.