Page 33 of Warwick

How could anyone be so utterly evil? I ran my hand up and down Warwick’s exposed arm, hoping to offer even a little support. I regretted asking and wouldn’t ever ask about his realm ever again.

“How did you get out?” Because he had. He was here.

Warwick looked at me, shaking his head. “I honestly don’t recall. I don’t have any memories of being banished. I was chained one moment, and the next, I woke up in the middle of a jungle in my beast form.”

“I’m sorry, Warwick. I shouldn’t have asked.” Warwick looked confused. “That was horrible, and I asked you to relive it.”

Warwick sighed. “I came to terms with it a long time ago. We’ve lived through that and worse. All of us. Even Ansel.”

Who was Ansel? “I don’t know who Ansel is.” The wind picked up again, and the breeze cooled considerably. When I looked up to the sky, I noticed that heavy clouds had moved in recently. It looked and felt like we were going to get rained on soon. I stood and held out my hand. “Care to continue talking inside? I think it’s going to rain soon.”

Warwick looked skyward before he took my hand and stood. He loomed over me, but that couldn’t be helped. He was so much taller than I was.

“Ansel is Atticus and Brice’s adopted son. He’s a hellhound like the rest of the pack, and we found him when we went on assignment from the goddess.”

I knew there was a complete story there, but I was a bit hesitant to ask. “Is Ansel a child?” I asked. He’d said he was their adopted son. That implied he was young.

“No. Well, the best we can guess is he’s a teenager. Probably around sixteen?” Warwick opened the door for me. I stepped in, and he followed. “He might be a bit younger, we’re not sure. Just like we don’t really know how old any of us are. In our realm, there is no concept of time. We live for his evil pleasure, and we don’t know how long any of us have been around.”

I couldn’t imagine living such a life. It was a wonder that any of them were able to go about their daily lives.

I walked over to the large black leather couch that obviously belonged to Warwick. It wasn’t mine, so that left my mate. I sat, and when Warwick sat beside me instead of at the other end, I looked at my lap to hide my smile. He could have sat at the other end of the couch but chose to sit close to me.

“You’re saying you don’t know how old you are?”

Warwick shook his head. “I’m old. I know that. I’ve been here for several centuries. I was probably two or three hundred years old before I woke up here. I honestly don’t know though.”

Old. My mate was old. Older-than-my-parents old. “I’m ninety-six. And I thought I was old.”

Warwick chuckled. “Not compared to me. But does it matter, really? We’re all going to keep on living now, so we have a long time to be together.”

That was true. “Did you really talk to Grandpa Lev?”

Warwick nodded. “I did. He told me you like cookies and you are fond of family. Well, the family you have here. You enjoy your time with them.”

That was true. “I do.”

“I want to make this work, Cecil.”

I looked up at Warwick. “So do I.”

“Good.” Warwick went quiet. I didn’t know what he was thinking, which was frustrating.

“What’s your favorite food?” I asked suddenly.

Warwick shrugged. “Steak? Maybe. I’ve not thought about a favorite. I like all foods.”

“Cookies?”

Warwick nodded. “Yes, I like cookies. I’ve been told you are fond of them too. Did you want me to get you cookies?”

I deflated thinking about the cookies I left behind last evening. I’d been looking forward to them too. And after everything happened, I didn’t make another batch.

“I like cookies. Double chocolate chip are my favorite. But cookies are cookies. I’ll eat them all.”

Warwick nodded slowly before he held out his hand. In it was a plate that was piled high with cookies. My eyes widened.

“You didn’t eat much lunch. I upset you in some way.”

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