“Okay, teenagers can deal with what I have in mind,” Victor announced after some thought, which had the wheels turning in Arvandus’s head. What exactly did the shifter have planned, and could Arvandus find the patience to wait another week to see what everyone was coming up with?
“Do we have any other concerns we must address before we make our trip to Arvandus and Albrecht’s orchard?” Alaric asked.
“I believe Albie put together a schedule for the coming days; I just want to make sure we agree on it.” With a quick grab, Cassius snatched Albrecht’s tablet and hit the button, lighting up the screen while Arvandus’s mate made a dive for it.
“Give it back,” Albrecht demanded. Cassius’s face was shocked as Albrecht tried to wrestle his device away from him.
“Apple, what’s the deal?” Arvandus asked as he tried to keep Albrecht from falling to the floor by holding on to his sides above his daggers which miraculously never cut into the sentinel, thanks to Alaric bespelling them. It was a necessary ritual added to the Sentinel Brotherhood after Arvandus was beheaded by his own weapon.
“I need to open the right app.”
“I know how to use a tablet, Albie,” Cassius remarked, and his brow creased when he stared at the tablet that he held just out of Albrecht’s reach. “This is a cool game, what is it?”
All the fight went out of Albrecht, and he dropped his face into the cushions of the couch. Arvandus wanted to laugh so hard at his mate’s big secret getting out. It was adorable that somehow Albrecht believed people would think less of him because of his choice to play a game—or perhaps it was the type of entertainment he chose. Arvandus had never quite figured out why Albrecht was so embarrassed by it, and he’d been playing it for years.
“I have a virtual farm,” Albrecht muttered into the sofa.
“Wow, you’re really high-level,” Cassius enthused as he explored more thoroughly. “You’ve got some cool shit. I want to play this.”
Brynnius leaned closer to look at it. “Is that a cake machine?”
“Yes, there’s one for pies too,” Albrecht grumbled.
“You only have one friend,” Cassius discovered, then glanced at Arvandus with a baleful stare. “You suck at names. ‘AppleVann’ is the best you could do? I’m going to play this; will you friend me?”
“Hey, I didn’t know my real name was Arvandus at the time. And, yeah, friend him. You can send shit back and forth. Apple’s missed out on a few events because of his need to keep his game a secret.”
“Why would you wish to keep a secret from us?” Brynnius asked.
“I don’t know. It’s a silly digital farm,” Albrecht mumbled, still face first into the couch.
“At least you have hobbies,” Cassius snarked with a glance at Ducarius.
“I will play the game to help Albie,” Ducarius growled.
“Great, everyone will download it. But first, we have our trip to the East Coast,” Alaric remarked as he got to his feet. “Let’s go.”
Gathering up his sullen mate, who was lying limply over his lap, Arvandus got him upright and pushed enough of his cloak out of the way so he could kiss him. “No one thinks it’s silly, and now everyone can help you. After all, it is harvest season.”
Albrecht let out a sigh and melted into Arvandus’s embrace. “I can’t wait to pick apples with you.”
“It’s too bad I’ve already got the best one,” Arvandus told him as their lips met, wearing smiles.
Chapter 3
Skeleton Lord Brynnius Daray carefully walked the rows of pumpkins while his family did their searching yards away. What Brynnius wanted was a pumpkin of distinction, one that others had slighted and would likely never get chosen. Just because shoppers had decided it wasn’t good enough, didn’t mean Brynnius would do the same. He didn’t want some perfect orb that beautifully reflected the sun like the nearly red one Eduard already had secured in his arms.
And while he applauded Cassius for discovering a white pumpkin that he was taking home, it too was wonderfully cylindrical. Brynnius would not go the route of Victor either, who had at least a half a dozen tiny pumpkins in a variety of colors gathered in his grasp. The shifter appeared unconcerned that he could not carve any of his bundle, and Brynnius wasn’t going to miss out on the contest with his family.
Moving carefully as to not crush any vines or inadvertently smash a gourd, Brynnius lifted leaves out of the way to see if his treasure was hiding, when something caught his eye. With every ounce of grace Fate had given him, Brynnius stepped over the row in front of him and smiled as he got closer to the pumpkin of his dreams. He carefully pulled it from the ground and smoothed a hand across the dark-green flesh that reminded him of the beautiful color of Drindyr Duke Dravyn D’Vairedraconis’s beast.
It was large, the stem was twisted into a coil, and there were blemishes on one side. Brynnius loved each flaw. He cradled it close to his body without worrying about whatever dirt was now staining his shirt since his pumpkin was also filthy. With his grin still firmly in place, he wandered close to where the men in his family were gathered with their selections.
“Brynn, are you sure about that one?” Baxter asked once he joined them.
“Absolutely. It’s exactly what I want.”
“You’re definitely going to have to hose that thing down when we get home. If you carve it like that, you’re going to make an even bigger mess of the kitchen,” Victor pointed out.
