Page 60 of A Prize for the Lycan Enemy

“It’s settled, then. I’ll tear the bar down just so I can watch you move around the kitchen. Barefoot. Soon also pregnant.”

She smiles, looking down at whatever she’s doing, her brown hair pulled back but for a few strands that fall over her eyes. “You’re not the only one who likes to watch the other one move around in the kitchen.” She looks up and winks.

“Really?”

“I like you barefoot and shirtless.”

I laugh and stretch out on the floor like a lazy love bug stretching his wings. Mated and well sated, my knob deflated, I’m content. The fire is crackling, and my mate starts whistling a tune. I recall the night I saw her by the firepit over at the McMar omega’s farmhouse. Marybell is a musician.

I get up and check the two trunks, and when I can’t find the stringed instrument I saw her play that night, I sling on one of her warm blankets from the nest and tell her I’ll be back. She doesn’t ask where I’m going, but only nods, busy preparing her meal. I only have appetite for her pussy now, so she’s not cooking for me.

Outside, the moon, though not full, still shines brightly. My males, who are mostly in the tavern, drink and sing and likely dance too, and while I’d normally join them, Marybell occupies my time perfectly.

On my way to the shrine, I whistle loudly so the patrol in the woods hears me. Once I reach the shrine, I search the trunks and find her odd instrument. I pick it up and groan, surprised at the weight of it. Heavy as fuck. Made completely of elven oak, carved well, and painted gold. It makes me think the instrument is not from Kilseleia, but from the fae Summer Court or even straight from Elven lands.

“Are those strings made of flex-gold?” Spence asks from the entrance.

“I think they might be.”

“Fairies have nothing better to spend their coin on than gold-plated strings.”

“I guess not.”

“Speaking of spending coins,” he adds. “We need a budget review.”

“Are you the clan treasurer now?”

“Yeah, Pote ran off with Dan. This leaves me counting coins.”

I smirk. “You can count?”

“Eat me arse.” Spence approaches the tray the goddess statue is holding and picks up the precious tiara Lenox left there. “Damn,” he says, turning it around in his hand. “This would fetch a nice price.” He rises on his toes and places it on the head of the goddess statue, then steps back. “You’ve blessed me,” he speaks with Natra, “so I won’t steal from you, but if Lenox comes by again and brings more nice jewels, I can’t promise you’ll get to keep them, mainly because you did not gift me with the strength I need to resist stealing it.”

“It’ll be the goddess’s fault if you steal?”

“That’s correct.”

I laugh. I’ve not laughed as much as I have in the past few spans since I was a wee lad. Spence and I would sneak onto McMar clan territory beyond the lake and piss on their trees. We thought it was all fun and games until Lenox’s father caught us, and instead of snapping our stupid little necks, he retaliated elsewhere. He burned the last working mill and two storage silos we owned.

My clan starved that winter.

Last winter started out the same as that one. But with Marybell secured and a deal made with Lenox over the ships, things are looking up for us. This side of the world is at summer’s end, which for us up here pretty much means winter has already begun.

“We have to replenish the food supplies,” I tell Spence.

“With what?” He shows his empty pockets.

“At the port, there should be ships waiting for us. The McMars will raise an alarm when you get there, and Lenox or Rohan will arrive. Collect what we’re owed for the deaths we suffered, and tell him I mated Marybell.”

“I’m happy for you, brother.” Spence claps me on the shoulder, but I grab him and bring him in for a hug. And because I almost lost him, we hold on, lingering a little longer than males normally do. I need to take care of that Dan business and reassure my clan that they’re going to be all right. And I’ll do that. Right after Marybell’s heat ends.

I clap him on the shoulder. “You and Philippa, huh?”

Spence nods. “Here’s to hoping the mating thing spreads like a disease.”

I make a face. “Why a disease?”

“First thing that came to mind. You got something better?”

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