Page 151 of Juliet & Her Romeos

I throw my arms out, luxuriating in this sensation for a moment longer.

Yesterday, Vito introduced Swan and me properly to his pride and joy, Grace.

The way that Vito talks about his motorcycle, it feels like we already have a baby in the family.

“In summer,” Vito patted the Harley’s seat, “I’ll take you riding with me by the coast. There’s no freedom like being on the back of a Harley on an open road.”

“Ridingfaston a Harley…?” Swan says with a hopeful but dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I’ve created a monster,” Vito mutters, before grinning. “What other way is there to ride?”

In the afternoon, Ambrose bundled Benedict and me in woolen coats, which were at least three times as thick as the ones that I wore in the academy.

Then Benedict took my hand and led me out into the snowy garden.

The air was crisp and sharp. The snow crunched on each step, and I held tightly onto Benedict to stop myself from slipping.

On the icy paths rather than a stage, Benedict was the one who looked at home and surefooted, while I was like a new born foal.

Yet it felt incredible to be walking in such openspace.

I haven’t been used to it for years.

The garden was vast and covered in rippling mounds of silvery-blue snow. It ran down to the forest, which sparkled under the cold sun.

My stomach swooped at the thought that the academy was just on the other side of the dense forest.

Benedict’s pure joy at being outside sang through the bond.

It was startling.

“Look,” Benedict whispered, pointing at a large bush, which was veiled in snow.

“Oh, a bush with berries.” I tried to sound excited. On the ranch, Silvanus did his best to teach me about trees and nature, but I was too busy cleaning on my hands and knees with my chores to pay much attention. “It’s a pretty red and green. Like you, Foxy.”

In fact, Benedict with his brunet curls and dressed in a sweeping forest green coat amongst the ice white snow, was more than pretty.

He looked like a mesmerizing fox fae.

My Foxy.

Benedict gave me a sideways look. “It’s Winterberry holly. You can tell by its elliptical leaves that have sharp toothed edges. Do you see the berries? They’re a favorite food source for robins, blue birds, and thrushes. Look more carefully.”

I peered at the bush.

A gray-brown bird with a bright red breast was hidden deeply inside the bush, pecking at the berries.

Benedict could spot the smaller details, in the same way that Ambrose was good at looking at the bigger picture.

Together, that made them quite the power couple.

“I see it.” I bounced on my toes.

“Him,” Benedict corrected. Then he turned to me, nuzzling my neck. Against the cold air, his breath felt even warmer. “Until Alpha saved me, I lived inside. I could only read about birds in books, or sometimes, if I was lucky, steal glimpses of them from a window. But in books, birds look flat. I had no idea how they moved, flew, or what they sounded like. I never knew that themusic of their song could be more beautiful than any music I’d heard. More beautiful than my own.”

I scrunched up my nose. “I didn’t bother to listen to it, when I had the opportunity to on the ranch. You take things for granted, when you have freedom: birdsong and sunlight. You never think that one day they could be taken away. So, you don’t cherish them. I’m never going to do that again. I intend to appreciate every day, even the ones that suck, because I’m alive and I’m with my pack.”

Benedict looked concerned for a moment, glancing at me through his curls.

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