Page 66 of A Wolf of War
“Get the self-cleaning one,” he said, a yawn wrapping around the words.
“It’s like five hundred dollars, Milo.”
“I don’t care.”
She hesitated, searching his face for a beat before sliding the box off the shelf and dropping it into the cart. The basket was filling fast—food, toys, beds, that overpriced litter box—and Milo was already doing the math. This was going to be an expensive trip.
But he didn’t care. Not even a little. Nothing was too much for her. She was his queen, and he’d see to it she never wanted for a single thing.
And apparently, neither would her cats.
They checked out at the register, Milo taking the bags while Willow carried the boxed-up kittens. Outside, he opened her door, making sure she was settled before Titan appeared to help load the haul into the back.
When the trunk finally clicked shut, Milo stood there for a moment, shaking his head.
God,whatthis woman was doing to him.
31
WILLOW
Willow woke to the soft, steady purr of a kitten on either side of her head, their tiny bodies warm against her ears. At the far end of the bed, Milo was stretched, passed out.
She blinked against the haze of sleep, turning her head to press a drowsy kiss to the fur of the kitten nearest her. Both were boys, barely twelve weeks old, and so new to this world. Two small, fragile lives, and they were hers now.
Her gaze slid to Milo, her lips quirking despite herself. She thought about last night—his massive hands cupping those delicate little bodies, the way he’d been careful not to startle them, speaking low and steady as he tucked them into their box while he and Willow set everything up.
Those hands could break a man with little effort, but with the kittens, he’d been patient and controlled. The memory settled in her chest with a warmth she didn’t want to examine too closely.
The mate bond was there, a quiet hum beneath her skin, pulling her toward him whether she wanted it or not.
With a grin she couldn’t quite help, she kicked out, nudging his calf. He grumbled in his sleep, so she tried rocking him with her foot, though moving a man built like a bull was an exercise in futility.
Still, she kept trying.
“Yes? May I help you, queen of our castle?” he drawled, his voice thick with sleep, edged in amusement.
“I want pancakes.”
His head turned toward her, one brow arched, eyes bright with mischief despite the grogginess still clinging to him.
“What’s in it for me?”
Heat crept into her cheeks at the low, suggestive note in his tone. She caught it instantly, but refused to take the bait.
Instead, she gave him another shove with her foot. “I’ll stop kicking you.”
Milo scoffed, the sound rough but fond. “Alright, fine. Pancakes it is.”
Willow eased back into the pillow with a contented sigh, the kittens curling close again, their tiny bodies warm against her cheeks. For the moment, everything felt simple.
She wished it could just stay like this.
***
Willow joinedTitan and Lachlan already at the table. It struck her how often she found them all in oneplace, despite their schedules. They always seemed to make time for each other, something that had struck her in the short time she’d been there.
That little blip in time was all it had taken for her life to implode. For her to be kidnapped. For all of this to have happened. It felt absurd, like someone had handed the pen to a teenage girl with a fever and told her to write the next chapters of Willow’s life.
