We spend the rest of the afternoon curled up on the couch in front of the TV, eating the blessed pizza delivered by Ernie, one of the big bear shifter guards on Scythe’s payroll. He smiles at my offered hand when Savage introduces me andbowsat me instead.
“Regina,” Savage chides after he leaves. “None of our beasts can touch you. You belong to me.”
“Oh right,” I say, frowning into my barbeque chicken pizza. “I’d forgotten about that.”
It’s been seven and a bit years since I left my father’s household, but I’ve forgotten some of the minor rules of etiquette when it comes to animas and reginas. It’s considered impolite to touch an anima if they belong to a pack. In fact, it’s an outright breach if you do. If you want to start a fight, it’s the best way to do it.
There’s still no sign of Scythe or Xander by the time I ask Savage to go to bed. I change into my cute lacy purple sleep shorts and tank top set and, in the darkened room, crawl into Savage’s single bed. He pulls me into his arms, smelling of spearmint toothpaste and soap.
“We really need to do something about these beds,” he says, wriggling himself into a comfortable position where he’s spooning me. “I wonder if Scythe will let us get a pack bed.”
The pack dorms have big bedrooms where there are massive communal beds for each pack to sleep in. Together.
“Unlikely,” I snort as Henry zips over to where I’ve set up his nesting pillow on Savage’s bedside table.
Eugene clucks sleepily from where he sits on Savage’s headboard.
“Goodnight, Eugene. Goodnight, Hen,” I say sleepily. “Is Eugene your prisoner?”
“We have a friendly agreement,” Savage mumbles into my hair. “Don’t worry about him.” The way he says ‘friendly’ doesn’t sound so friendly at all.
It’s then that I hear noises from outside. The thud of heavy males, the quiet murmur of deep voices. I don’t notice I’ve stiffened until Savage rubs at my arms.
“Will they mind?” I whisper.
“Of course not,” Savage says, but for once, the usual arrogance doesn’t pepper his tone.
The bedroom door opens and both men are shadowy giants who quietly head for the bathroom. I listen intently. Having been granted access to their personal, private area, me and my anima are keen to know how they sound as they attend to their nightly routine. How they brush their teeth, how they scrub their bodies as they shower.
“You’re not breathing, regina,” Savage grumbles.
I huff a little at being caught out. “Sorry.”
“Just don’t try and start anything.”
I’m suddenly wide awake. “Pardon?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.” I sit up to glare at him, and his eyes glint through the dark.
Savage sighs. “You know, don’t try and sass them. Or start a fight.”
I slap him on the shoulder. “How dare you! If I want to start something, I bloody well will!”
He chuckles and tugs on my arm. I hear the shower turn off, so I quickly lie back down.
“I’m going to sleep now,” I announce.
“Good girl.”
I smile despite myself and am happy he can’t see it. But it also means that when they’re finished, I have a perfect view of thebathroom as the door opens and light and steam cascades out. The smell of male soap and marijuana fills my nose.
Xander’s massive form trudges to the other side of the room to his bed, white eyes glowing. And Gods, it’s pretty creepy at night to see two white glowing balls floating through the air, the glowing red of the joint stuck in his mouth beneath that. I lose sight of him as he climbs onto his bed.
Scythe is a little less dramatic, but I keep my eyes closed as his near-silent movements make my heart drum up a dance. He opens the window between his and Savage’s bed and it’s only then that I crack open my lids to see what he’s doing.
Moonlight streams through where he’s opened the curtain and his towering form stands predator-still by the window. His eyes are closed, and his head upturned a little as if in prayer. As if in soaking in the moonlight on his bare face and torso. Scythe’s skin is made blue-silver by the moon, and it graces every perfect muscle of his tattooed neck, chest, arms, abs and…