She had long, rose gold hair that fell in thick waves down to the small of her back, and a crown of daisies adorned her head. Her pale yellow dress shimmered as if reflecting sunlight, and her lavender eyes brightened with her smile.
“How are the egg preparations going, Peter?” She folded her hands over her stomach. “Is it safe to say there will be no scrambling this year?”
“In over sixteen hundred years, have I ever left you holding an omelet? The eggs will be painted and delivered on time, as always.”
“Without a second to spare…as always?” She winked. “If I were mortal, your methods would have given me gray hair and a heart attack by now.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re not. Don’t worry.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll get it done.”
Her brows drew together. “You do remember what will happen if you don’t?”
He huffed out a laugh. “You remind me every year. I’ll lose everything and become a plain old mortal robin. No more rabbit. No more human form. I’ll grow old and die, et cetera. Believe me, Eostre, I love my job. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize it or my eternal life.”
“I won’t have the power to maintain your immortality.”
“I know. Everything will be fine.” They’d had the same conversation every year, and everything had always been fine.
She held his gaze for a beat too long, her eyes tightening before she turned toward his team. “Back to work, my children. Get ready. You’ll be painting more eggs than ever this year.”
A few chipmunkelfenchittered before scurrying back to their stations, and a possum named Merideth stretched her arms over her head, revealing two tiny hands protruding from her pouch. She offered a paintbrush, and a joey’s small head appeared.
Eostre laughed. “Do we have a new recruit?”
“She wanted to help,” Merideth said. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Absolutely.” The goddess turned to Pete and lowered her voice. “I think we’ll need all the help we can get this year.”
“How so?” He set his palette on the table next to his egg easel. “We have plenty of time.”
“I’ve had a foreboding feeling for the past three days.” She gestured to his office and floated down the steps toward it, giving him no option but to follow.
He stopped outside the door and turned to his headelfen. “Max, call the henhouse and see what’s taking so long. The eggs should’ve been delivered by now.”
He stepped into the office and found Eostre leaning against his desk, holding the intricately gilded egg she’d given him after he completed the first Easter. The concern in her eyes made his stomach sink, so he closed the door to keep his team from overhearing whatever she was about to say.
“I know you worry this time of year.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll try to keep the operation more organized.”
“It’s not the operation I’m most worried about. It’s you.” She set the egg on his desk and clasped her fingers.
“Me?” He tried to laugh off the sentiment, but the look on her face made his heart beat faster than Thumper’s right foot. “Why?”
She parted her lips as if to speak, but she closed them again, shaking her head before repeating the gesture two more times. “I received a warning from Frigg,” she finally said.
He waited for her to elaborate, but she just stared at him with pity in her eyes. No, not pity. She masked it well, but he felt a hint of fear rolling off her. “Okaaayy…” he said. “What was the warning?”
“Do you ever feel like becoming the Easter Bunny was a sacrifice?” She picked up the egg again, tracing her fingers over the golden pattern.
“It wasn’t a sacrifice at all. I love who I am.”
“You don’t miss your old life?”
“That was over sixteen hundred years ago.” He chuckled. “Honestly, I don’t remember much about that time.” Aside from one of Frigg’s geese making up a stupid song to taunt him when Eostre first turned him into a rabbit. The tune about his cottontail tried to wriggle its way into his mind to play on repeat every year, and it irked him to no end.
“That can’t be what she meant, then…” She tapped a finger to her lips but didn’t elaborate.
He clenched his jaw. For the sake of Odin’s empty eye socket, would she get to the point? If his pulse sprinted any faster, he’d shift against his will and hop right out the door. He couldn’t fight his rabbit when it went into flight mode. “What did Frigg tell you? Is something going to happen to me?”
“I don’t know.” She flicked her gaze to his. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought it up. You have so much work to do.”
