Cal’s lips parted.
“Sneakywolf.” A shiver went through Cal’s slight body. He took a shaky breath. “You’re my happiness and you know it. And… my husband, which is still terribly human but… is that enoughfor you?Youare the question, Ray. Always, it’s you. You’re bleeding. Did you know that?”
“I was shot,” Ray revealed and put his face to Cal’s stomach. “Part of a building fell on me. I landed on Strider’s things. And I’m… I’m so tired.”
“Of course you are.” Cal stroked the back of Ray’s neck. “You like to hurt me but you don’t like to hurt me,” he muttered. “But I also think you like testing yourself. How close can you get before you go wild? Which you never really do. That’s you, Ray. Even now, when you could have, maybeshouldhave gone on a feral rampage, you come to me and say that you’re sorry. But if you did—and in that alley you were close for a second, you still didn’t hurt me. You even warned Benny to back off without hurting him and he is not your ma—mate.” Cal briefly held Ray tighter. “Oh. I can say it now. That’s—that’s almost a fairy curse in how perfect and cruel and real it is. A fairy—oh.”
Ray raised his head, trained to be suspicious of that tone from this glittering genius.
Cal blinked several times, then focused on Ray. The air around him swirled, thick with an abundance of sparkles. His tiny wings twitched at his back. His eyes were still. His voice echoed.
“There is a reason that fairies and other beings with no reason to trust you end up trusting you, Ray. Why everyone, even those who betrayed you, believe you will do what you say you will do. Why they want to interview you on TV and all of that, and it’s not just that you’re hot. Pure of intent, strong of will,Raymond.If you know what my name means, then I thought I should know your name’s meaning too. That is destiny. Your destiny, I think.” Cal cupped the side of Ray’s face, then trailed his fingertips down the side of Ray’s throat. “You’re still bleeding, Ray.” Cal’s voice fell to something almost normal, but the sea of sparkles remained. “Stop that now.”
Ray wasn’t sure the bullet was out, or even where he’d been hit. But he was injured and bleeding profuselybecauseof what had happened. “I’ve lost my mate,” he reminded Cal.
Someone, Benny, maybe one of the fairies, scoffed.
It was only when Cal lifted his head that Ray realized the aura around Cal was fairy magic at work. Fairies cursed, or blessed; Ray wasn’t sure which.
“No, you haven’t.” Cal had a stubborn set to his chin. “But that is a problem for later. Right now, has anyone checked on Penn?” He looked around. Ray was abruptly aware of more voices, quick, excited heartbeats that must have been there all along.
He put his nose back against Cal. “Troll. Ambulance,” he explained, eyes falling shut. “The building is set to collapse. Be careful. Another… another human is in there. I took his gun.”
“Okay,” Cal said soothingly, and then an older, crankier, human who kind of sounded like Cal shouted, “Did you get all that?” to someone else.
There were so many voices now. A police siren, in the distance. Fire trucks too.
“Maybe some of you ought to head over there to make sure everyone’s all right,” the older, crankier version of Cal suggested, although it had the feel of an order.
“Pissing them off even more is certainly a strategy,” Benny observed, then added, “Here, Cal. Use this.”
“They need orders or they won’t do anything. It absolves them of responsibility.” Calvin sounded fed up. “Whose sweater is that?”
“Divinity’s,” Benny answered. “I was holding it for her. I’ll get her a new one.”
Cal bent down and pressed something, apparently Divinity’s sweater, to Ray’s side. Ray clenched his jaw to keep from whining again, but the pressure hurt.
Cal briefly lowered his voice. “When more cops arrive, I don’t know what will happen. But there are witnesses, so stay here. Don’t get in any police cars, or go anywhere with them unless actually arrested. And don’t say anything, even to someone you want to like. We also need to get you to heal faster. We are not doing this with you fading before our eyes, and personally, I am not going to watch that again. Werewolves,” Cal snarled his cute snarl. “So emotional they don’t notice the obvious.”
“He could have a bullet in him, kid. Maybe ease up a little.”
“And have him like this when some official shows up to try to cart him off?” Cal raised his voice, emotional himself. But then he tangled his hand in Ray’s hair and tugged. “Ray Ray, look at me. Breathe in deep and look at me.”
Ray filled his lungs withCallalily, then opened his eyes.
A swirling gaze met his. “What do I smell like?”
Caramel popcorn and the detergent on the scarf—something with artificial lavender that Ray didn’t care for. Cal smelled of worry, lingering panic like burned toast next to the rest of his sweetness, which was hot apple cider with caramel, or a raw, crisp apple itself. Buttered pastry in what he felt, warm affection and love. But Cal was the fruit itself, clean and sharp. Crunchy, like the top of crème brûlée, but more filling.
Ray inhaled again.Affection. Worry, with acridpanicslipping away. Cobbler, Ray had thought before, but now, more like… pie. A picture of a pie, and the steam that rose from one cooling on a windowsill, something Ray had never seen in real life and which Cal would almost certainly never bake for himself. Apples, butter, sugar, cinnamon. Latticework crust and fragrant steam rising, smelling ofpromise. The ideal of...
“Home,” Ray said, frowning in confusion.
Cal beamed at him, sweet steam and sunshine. “Because I’m your mate.”
He closed his hand in Ray’s hair when Ray flinched and tried to shake his head.
Cal made a displeased face but stood firm. “I am Callalily Park—Branigan, if you want, if that will make this easier for you to accept right now. And I am still your mate, or I am your mateagain, because that is possible, apparently. Second mates. Third mates, I don’t care. You chose to love me and I am here. So you are going to heal. Say it.”
