Page 8 of Prey It Ain't So

Rennie and I look at one another, then back at her before he says, “You will have things that are the same, then?”

“I have over half the things you just dumped here in my bags. As long as you can deal with them smelling girly….”

Our mate snorts, shaking his head. “Ma cherie, I am French. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I nod at Dolly. “Remove anything you packed and put it back in the bathroom. Ren, you need to decide on shoes from the pile she set out for you—only from those.”

“Don’t let him choose over three pairs!” The shout over her shoulder makes me grin. My lessons seem to have taken well, and that means we’ll be much more streamlined when we set out for the trip into the mountains.

His eyes narrowed, my mate looks at me for a moment, studying my expression. “This isyourinfluence, Flames. I feel it in my bones. You’ve put her through your travel boot camp and now she’s acting like the ‘spark joy’ woman. I’ll get you for this,mon ami.”

“Love, we’re going to head into the mountains after the train trip. Yes, we’ll be in a hotel beforehand, but can we trust anything left in the room not to be tampered with? No, we cannot. So it all has to come with us, and that limits what can be taken.”

“Yes, yes…” he sighs as he flops on the bed and looks up at the ceiling in grumpy annoyance. “It’s the fault of my relatives for hiding so far in the countryside. I’m aware.”

Dolly leans out of the bathroom. “That’s not why. Aubrey says we have to be honest about this stuff. Say the real reason, Rennie.”

I arch a brow, pride swelling in my chest. “The bite size bunny is correct.”

He throws up his hands, covering his face as he growls loudly. “Okay, okay! I’m pissed that my actual parents didn’t even take a moment to respond. They didn’t dictate a personal missive, either. They tasked someone with telling me, and I know that’s because no one gives a rat’s ass that I’ve been gone for centuries.”

“Better!” Dolly calls from the bathroom. “I mean, Lucille doesn’t give a shit if I live or die, Rennie. I know how you feel. It’s okay to be angry about it.”

My gaze finds the mournful gargoyle again as she pops back into the bathroom. “Wisdom from the youthful, my mate. But you know my clash doesn’t care, either, nor does the Khan patriarch. You are not alone, nor should you hide being upset by the way this was handled. They may not deserve our emotions, but that does not mean we can simply stop having them.”

And that’s about the end of the advice I can give him that I’m not using myself—hopefully the others will have some to share, too.

Purple Rain

Delores

I’mglad we got my broody mate to admit his parents hurt him. Aubrey and I agreed that it would have made everything harder when we get to their clutch’s settlement. Seething with rage clouds your judgment—something we’re both very aware of. Rennie is mischievous and mopey at times, but usually he’s not the one overflowing with anger. Though… I suppose now that we know the story of the Fae princess and his orchid, the mopeyness makes more sense than it used to. He was marinating in guilt over something that wasn’t even true forcenturies.

Once the big guy and I got him calmed down and his bags zipped, we brought my newest mate along to check in on the Khans. Fitz was bopping around being his typical self, Felix was growling, and poor Chessie looked like he was going to tear his cute little topknot off his head. Aubrey and I stepped in to help him while Rennie distracted the tigers, and eventually, that was done as well.

This will be the last dinner we’re going to have here for a while—and for once, it’s not because someone is pulling the strings to send me off to a new home.

Wiping my mouth, I look across the table at my adorable cheetah. “Chessie, this is delicious. What did you say it is, again?”

“Tocanita,” he says proudly. “It’s a stew made from meat and potatoes, and the bread is called Mamaliga. I wanted to make Samale since it’s even more popular where we’re headed, but the packing took away from the time I would have needed to make the wraps.”

Fitz ladles another bowlful, licking his lips exaggeratedly. “It’s fucking delish, babe. Just what we need to get our energy back before our nighttime fun.”

I chuckle as he bobs his brows, reaching out to grab another piece of the cornmeal bread. “We have to leaveveryearly in the morning, Fitzy. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to stay up late getting freaky. The car will be here just in time to speed us away to the train station, and I’ve been told they wait for no one.”

Felix looks torn as he leans back in his chair. His strict ‘brunch daddy’ persona makes him want to tell us we have to go to bed and be ready for the early AF wake-up call. The kinky tiger boyfriend side of him wants to play just as bad as his twin. I wink at him, letting him know I can follow his thoughts like they’re being broadcast into the air. “Well…”

“Having trouble deciding which you’d prefer?” Rennie says with a soft laugh. “You’re not alone, Raj. However, ourpetit lapinis correct about how jarring that alarm will be.”

Giving the elder twin a sour look, I shake my head. “Not for me and Mr. Morning Routine over there. He frequently has me running around before the sun is up. But I know the rest of youdon’t have him dragging you out of bed to run laps with the bats, sooooo…”

The smug look on Felix’s face makes me want to rebel against his decision no matter what it is, and I know that’s probably counter-productive.

“I can’t help it, Princess. You’re booked to the gills during the school year, and we can’t slack on your training. That’s why you were so fierce in your matches, remember?” He pushes his longer, floppy hair out of his eyes with a slow grin. “But you’re also cute when you’re pissed. It’s a win-win.”

That earns him a withering glare, and the others laugh as we have a mini-standoff over his anal retentive training rituals. Chess finally coughs, then holds his hand up. “I know you’re doing that stubborn thing you two love to do, but I have dessert. It’s called papanasi, and I think you’ll all like it.”

“Can I help you with the preparation, Chester?” Renard asks as he stands. “I’ll clear some plates while the others finish up.”

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