Page 52 of Real

“But it’s an emergency!” Manny yells into the phone.

The woman mutters something I can’t hear, and then Manny says, “We’re on our way.”

He hangs up.

I slowly stand. I briefly consider going to the entrance of the Den of Dreams and telling them what’s going on, but Buddy’s best chance at survival is to bond with someone as soon as possible. My interference won’t help with that.

Instead, I walk to the corner of the street and push the button for the crosswalk. Buddy can’t be mine, but I’m still going to save him. Even if I have to kill Dorian.

My damn phone rings again. It’s Felicity.

“What is it?” I say more sharply than I probably should.

“Can you pick up Candlewick? He wants to see Buddy.”

I hold back a bitter laugh. “How about you pick up Candlewick. I’m too soft. I might become attached to him.”

“Oh, H. I’m sorry—”

“Tell Candlewick to go to Dorian’s house.” He hates Dorian as much as I do, right? Might as well have backup.

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“Dorian’s going to do the fucking spell, Felicity. We have to stop him. If you don’t want to be a part of this because you’re not soft enough to care about Buddy, fine. But tell your client that I need some help holding Dorian off.” I hang up on her. I’m probably being unfair, but I’m done being told my compassion makes me weak. I’m done being thought of as less because I’m a caretaker. And I’m done with people who don’t take me seriously because I’m big and “soft.”

Dorian’s about to find out I have edges to me.

I head for the crosswalk with my heart in my throat. Unlike Dorian, I don’t have to be Buddy’s mate to care about him. Unlike Dorian, I can see how precious the man he’s trying to kill truly is.

And unlike Dorian, I have nothing left to lose.

23

Buddy

I wait in the bedroom by myself for several minutes while Einar finds the next man I’m scheduled to meet with. It gives me some time to think. What will Dorian do when he finds out I’ve taken a mate and he can’t reverse the spell? I can’t imagine he’ll keep quiet about the legend of the skatts. I know what Dorian’s like when he gets angry.

What price will the Illusors have to pay to protect me? Is that fair, considering the point of my existence is to protect them?

There’s a knock at the door, and the bright, cheery man from downstairs pokes his head in. “Can I come in?”

I nod.

He walks inside and closes the door behind him. “I’m Antonio. It’s such an honor to meet you. I messaged my omega dad back home to tell him I was about to talk to the long lost skatten min, and he asked if I could get your measurements. He wants to knit you a sweater.” He plunks down next to me on the bed. “He’s also going to knit you a pair of socks. It can get cold in New York during the winter.”

Antonio positively radiates happiness. His brown eyes are pretty, just like Timothy’s. And his body is shaped like a teddy bear, just like Timothy’s. But there’s a confidence in Antonio that’s very different.

“You’re here to pick a mate, right? How can I help with that? Is there anything you want to talk about. Or… do you want to see my light?” His cheeks pinken slightly. “I’m not a performer like Einar. I do visualization work for a plastic surgeon in the city. Basically, I help people see what their faces or bodies could look like after surgery. I work with a lot of burn victims.”

I never thought about an illusion being used that way.

“How long have you worked for a plastic surgeon?” I ask.

Antonio’s smile fades. “I’ve been working for eight years, and I didn’t start until I was twenty-two. But the yellow in my light is still bright.”

He’s worried I’ll think he’s too old. I honestly couldn’t care less about his age.

“Could you show me what I’d look like if I became flesh and blood?”

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