Page 40 of Gyft

“What about Minniel? Would you barter or trade something to get him to do it also?” Because I think that not only would my Yvette like that, but if Gyft is willing to do that, it shows his devotion to me.

Gyft literally flinches. “Yes,” he finally answers. “If that is what you would like.”

“Okay,” I say finally. “Then I will give this another try.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Even though we are divorced.”

“We may be divorced,” he says, “But you are still my one and only true mate. I can never, ever love another the way I do you.”

Ah, the big goof. That’sawfully sweet.

“Okay, then. Let’s do this.”

I fall into his arms and his kiss feels familiar and cherished. I’m barely aware of Yvette and Minniel kissing too, but I’m too focused on my mate to be shocked by them.

Chapter Seventeen

GYFT:

IT WAS CONVENIENT that today, of all days, Minniel requested time off. Wondering how I’ll make him agree to what Bride wants makes me scowl as I raise my hand to knock on his door. This is the first day of the cold season and fat snowflakes are falling from a dark purple, angry sky.

Icy breath chills my freelig and I tug my hood closer around my head.

By the time it swings open, he’s standing opposite the entry, though in the warmth of the house, and looks just like me.

A mirror image in his matching brichet.

We wear them separately now, but still gravitate toward the same colors. Our height is the same. The only thing different between us are the scars that whip across his face.

I frown. “You didn’t tell me you requested the day off from work.”

“Didn’t I?” His voice mocks mine as he stands aside to allow me entry. He heads straight for the kitchen. I find it irritating that I have to follow behind him like an errant schoolboy. When he glances over his shoulder and smirks, I know he’s thinking exactly the same thing.

“What can I do for you?”

“You owe me—” I almost wince. That wasn’t the way I wanted to begin but his cocky grin throws me off balance.

“For needing my twin soul to rescue me from the deadlands when we were just children?” he asks lightly. “You really think I owe you?”

Because much like Kyno and Brisa M’irshlak, Minniel had wandered too close to the boundaries and was dragged in by a soul sucker. I snuck in of my own accord and dragged my screaming brother out. By the time we hid in the natural cages of the sicqurius trees for a long, windy night, a search party had gone out for us. In the morning, they found two white-freeligged seedlings sharing one brichet.

The same one my twin soul had commandeered when he went on his adventure without me, leaving me to search out my other half without my own brichet. The adventure that led to us entering the royal guard training a few annuals later, marked for life as blood suckers.

“Just spit out what you want,” Minniel says warily. Yet there’s something else in his face, almost as if he’s fighting a grin. But I don’t have time to sort it out.

“My bride requests a Santa Fe Claus,” I snarl, knowing that he remembers the mythical creature dressed in the color of blood suckers.

Which we are. We should face the stigma and do this.

For Bride.

“Then I suggest you give her what she wants,” Minniel says smoothly, taking a sip from the cup he’s poured for himself at the same time he pushes an identical one toward me.

I take a sip too but try to angle the cup differently. We’re adults now. No need to mirror each other.

“She doesn’t just want me. Yvette is also dressed as an elf and needs a Santa or something of her own to help her with the presents.”

The infuriating male is expressionless when he takes another sip of his steaming mug. “What do I get out of humiliating myself?”

I sigh. “Again, you owe me—”

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