Page 103 of Slaying With Sylphs

She laughs, but her eyes flick to the door. “You left Connall with Laerith, and we’re being rude. We better get out there.”

“Fine,” I agree. I’m not ready to leave this room, but she’s right. We cannae leave Connall to host the blue witch either. “Let me do yer hair, then.”

When my woman nods, I slap my gem and dissipate. I swirl lazily through her long strands at first, pulling moisture from them. Then I strengthen until I’m brushing fast through her hair. In a minute, I’ve got it dry and braided, and I’m having the time of my life. I could play with her hair for ages.

I return to my human form and tug the end of her braid back over her shoulder, holding it up so she can wrap a hair band around it.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, grabbing the dry braid and staring at it in shock. “Best blow dryer ever, all the stars, no notes, highly recommend.”

“I’m great at blowin’ things,” I say with a wink.

Her smile goes big and wicked. “Yeah, you are. Speaking of which, shall we rescue our mate?”

Our mate.

“Yes, Louanna,” I agree. “Let’s.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

LOU

Dirk and I help Connall plate the chicken marsala and bring it to the table. Laerith sits at the head with her arms folded across her chest, a toothpick hanging from the corner of her mouth. Ruby eyes glitter as I set the plate of food down in front of her.

She reaches up and pats the side of my ass, then gives it a little squeeze. “I like it when you serve me, little blue.”

Dirk lets out an honest to gods growl and grabs his knife as he sits down to Laerith’s right. “Hands off my woman.”

“Begads!” She says with a mocking sneer. “A woman has hit onmywoman! Whatever will I do? My manliness is affronted!” She follows the mockery up by sticking out her tongue.

When Dirk rises with the knife in his hand, I shoot them both accusatory looks.

I swat Laerith’s hand off my ass and wag my finger in her face. “You, stop teasing my mate.” Turning to Dirk, I shoot a meaningful glance at the knife in his hand. “And you, put that down because she’s our guest.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but Connall grabs him by the shoulders and directs him to the next seat over—farthest from our dinner guest.

Laerith smirks like she’s just won. Blue flames dance in her eyes as she grins down the table toward Dirk. “Good thing your handsome mate put you there so I didn’t have to do it myself.” Her fangs glint in the low light.

Rolling my eyes, I walk to the far end of the table and pick the opposite head chair with Dirk to my right. As I sit, I bat my lashes at Laerith, whose smile becomes a scowl.

Connall offers Laerith a bowl of salad, indicating she should go first. “We can’t thank you enough for working with Lou. The appearance of her power was a real shock for two of us.”

“You can say that again,” I mutter as I dig into the perfectly cooked chicken.

Dirk scooches his chair closer, squeezing my thigh under the table as he smirks.

Laerith looks between us. “Tell me what you’ve learned from thisbookyou mentioned earlier. We’ll go from there.”

For the next quarter hour we share everything we’ve read about. Admittedly, we’re still just halfway through. But even that much knowledge has made me feel so much more empowered. Or maybe I’m still in shock. That’s possible too.

“One thing you mentioned that I cannot stress enough is what her needs will be after expulsions of power. Even after our sessions.” She wags her brows at me, then returns her focus to my mates. “If she fights this Leighton character, she’ll need you afterward in a way she hasn’t needed you before. As in, drink plenty of water and call in sick for a few days.”

Connall’s eyes spring wide, and he runs a hand over his mouth, looking at me. “It almost sounds like an omega’s heat.”

Laerith makes a pleased sound. “Build her a nest, if you like, alpha. Her sexual need will bepreciselylike a heat.”

They’re just casually discussing my sexual intensity like it’s regular ole dinner conversation. This is so…weird. Except thatthe look on Connall’s face tells me he couldn’t be more excited by the prospect of sharing something like a heat together.

I take another bite of marsala and chew around buttery, mushroomy deliciousness. “What else, Laerith? What do I have to know before you skedaddle out of here?”

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