Page 140 of Puck & Her Blades

“This was your idea then…?”

“Zev said that you were our good snow angel. So, I thought that you deserved some fun with naughty elves.” Asher snatched me by the waist, twisting me around. “Merry Christmas, babe!”

Now, I wriggle in Asher’s arms. I can feel his chest against my back, warm and solid. His arms are clasped around me, and he leans to nibble on my ear.

I sigh, happily.

“Come on,” he murmurs, “open your presents.”

I glance back at him. “Have you already opened yours? What did you get?”

Suddenly, his expression becomes closed off. “It doesn’t matter.”

Worry worms through me. “Hey, it does.”

Jackson clears his throat. “Don’t do this now.”

All at once, my warm sense of contentment flees.

I glance between the Alphas, whose expressions are tight.

Cygnus has become tense.

I can feel their distress and anxiety through the bond.

I don’t need to feel Asher’s emotions through a bond, however, because I can sense them by the way that he’s pulling away from me.

Determined, I push the bag of gifts to the side.

They can wait, but Asher can’t.

How many times has he been made to feel that his feelings don’t matter? That he doesn’t?

It’s Christmas, however, and it’s not going to happen today.

I turn in Asher’s arms, straddling his lap, instead. I press my hands to each of his soft cheeks. His shaggy golden hair peeks out from underneath his elf hat. I smooth it down, as he studies me, confused.

“Did you get any presents?” I ask, carefully.

“I’m a Companion,” he explains. “I’m not allowed to possess stuff. Don’t blame the others. It’s cool. They’d have been in the shit, if they’d tried to give me anything, and Cyg still tried to smuggle me homemade chocolates.”

Cygnus slaps his hand over his eyes. “Good going, naughty elf number three, you’ve just spoiled my surprise.”

So, one of my gifts is chocolates then.

“I’m sure that they’ll be delicious,” I reassure Cygnus. “But it doesn’t make it any less wrong.”

“Hey, no arguments from me,” Asher says with a casual sunniness that takes away my breath. “But it is what it is.”

“Fuck that,” I growl. “This is the last time that you’re going to feel it’s okay to be treated like that.”

I twist to sit sideways on Asher’s lap.

My gaze slides to Jackson’s.

Jackson pales.

Then he reddens, and his hands clench. He pushes himself to his feet, pulling off his hat and hurling it across the room.

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