“Ah, little treasure.” Rowan hopped down from his perch and eased farther into the room. “Nothing is wrong if it comes from the heart. Why did the ogre buy it for you anyway?”
“You didnotjust call Ban an ogre.” I took the pillow I’d been cuddling with and tossed it at him.
Rowan dodged it. “Well, he’s big, tall, simpleminded, and he grunts a lot. See? An ogre. Hey! Drop the pillow.”
I threw it at him.
“So violent.” Rowan shook his head. “Such a feisty little thing.”
“You’re lucky I’m out of ammo now,” I said, having sent both pillows flying at him.
“What are you making?” Rowan approached Lake at the table.
“Something sharp to stab you with,” Lake responded without taking his eyes off the wood.
“I can’t wait.” Rowan smirked. “Make it extra sharp, pup. I want it to really hurt.”
Lake huffed at him. He was whittling game pieces for a chess board. He and Duke had bonded a lot since reaching Exalos, and it turned out Duke liked to whittle too—a fact I’d been oblivious to. Both of them were working on the pieces so they could play together.
Rowan neared me, and as the firelight reflected in his topaz eyes, the hints of gold deepened. He pointed at me and flicked his hand. “Up.”
“Up?”
“Yes. As in, get your adorable arse out of that bed before I drag you out of it.” He tossed my cloak at me. “And put that on. It’s a bit chilly tonight.”
“We’re going out?” I asked.
“Well, not if you sit there like a bump on a log, we’re not.” He snapped his fingers. “Now, up with you. We don’t have all night.”
