Page 13 of Definitely Dead

“That sucks, and I feel for you, I do. But if you don’t stop eye-fucking my mate, that’s going to be the least of your worries.”

Tyr turned away to hide his grin, but he couldn’t stop his shoulders from shaking with silent laughter. The outburst had been completely unexpected, but not in the least unwarranted.

He anticipated anger from Aster, maybe a snarky quip. When he looked back, however, the witch wore a genuine, almost admiring expression.

“I like you.” Then he walked away, continuing down the street, a quiet chuckle echoing behind him.

“Oh, my god.” Sunne buried his face in his hands with a groan. “What is wrong with me? Why did I just say that?”

If he had to guess, he’d say the thinly veiled threat had manifested from their mating bond. While not noble in the least, knowing the guy felt just as territorial over him filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction. Still, probably not what Sunne wanted to hear right then.

“He tends to have that effect on people.” Leaving it at that, he rubbed Sunne’s arm in comfort—the little gestures becoming easier by the second—and guided him to the entrance of the diner. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Tyr chuckled again but didn’t comment.

Inside the shop, he led Sunne over to the fireplace on the far wall, the tension in his neck easing when his mate sighed and held his hands out to the flames. Grabbing one of the threadbare blankets from the back of a wooden chair, he wrapped it around the male’s shoulders and encouraged him to sit.

“Wait here.”

Sunne snapped his head up, his eyes too big, too pleading.

“Stay by the fire.” Unable to resist, he pressed his palm to the side of his mate’s face, cradling his delicate cheek and loving the way Sunne leaned into the touch. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

“Okay.” Before he could pull away, Sunne grabbed him by the wrist, holding him in place. “Thank you.”

Uncomfortable with the gratitude, Tyr grunted and dipped his head before going to find Orrin. While he got the impression that Sunne understood the significance of the connection between them, they still needed to talk about the M-bomb that fate had dropped in their laps.

Then he could explain that Sunne didn’t need to thank him. He didn’t even need to ask. Whatever he needed or wanted, it was already his.

On his way to the back booth, he paused at the counter and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Can you get him some coffee?”

Cian’s gaze flickered to the fireplace. “Of course. Sugar? Cream?”

“Uh…” Damn, he didn’t know. And hehatedthat he didn’t know. “He likes cinnamon rolls.”

The shopkeeper’s eyebrows drew together before a knowing expression settled over his face. “I’ll take care of it.”

Tyr rapped his knuckles against the battered countertop as he walked away. “Thanks.”

“Hello again,” Orrin said with a quiet chuckle when he arrived at the booth. “Another soul?”

“Yes.”

Orrin nodded and motioned toward the bench seat on the other side of the table. “Bring them over.”

“No.” Clearing his throat, Tyr tried again, minus the growl this time. “He’s cold.”

The prince eyed him for a moment before looking toward the fireplace with a frown. “I see.”

He didn’t comment on the odd behavior, though he had clearly clocked it. Tyr never personally escorted souls to the diner. When they followed him, like Aster, he passed them off to Orrin without drama or fanfare. Not once during all their time in the Underworld had it been any other way.

He sure as hell never demanded the Nightstar prince and Guardian of Lost Souls go to a new resident instead of the other way around.

“In that case, let’s not keep him waiting.” Rising gracefully, Orrin shook out his long robes and nodded. “Lead the way.”

Relieved by the easy response, he strode back across the room to Sunne’s side, leaving Orrin to follow after him at a more leisurely pace. Grabbing two extra chairs from a nearby table, he placed one right next to his mate and the other a little farther away.

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