Chapter 168: Lyre: Separated, Again

LYRE

Watching my camper leave without me is a strange feeling. I’m more attached to it than entire castles I’ve had built in the past.

Every girl dreams of a castle.

It just turns out my favorite one is shaped like a box and gets dragged behind a truck.

A warm weight settles against my waist, and something inside me twitches, instinctively repulsed by any form of casual, possessive affection.

The offending appendage wrapped around my waist is large and tanned. A working hand. A fighter’s hand. A hand with no business settling on my waist like it belongs there.

"You okay?" Aaron murmurs, leaning down so his breath is hot against my ear.

"That depends. Are you particularly attached to this hand?"

He pulls back immediately, the warmth vanishing.

Smart.

"I was just checking on you," he says, keeping a careful half-an-arm’s-length distance. "You seem worried."

"I’m fine." Do I look like I need babysitting? I know my fancy Korean facial creams make my skin glow, but it isn’t as if I’m as young as I look.

Thankfully.

Because then I’d be a sentient pile of dirt.

I pop the trunk of our SUV and toss my bag in, and Thom pops out of the backseat to follow at my elbow like a lovesick puppy.

"Lyre, I’ve been thinking about how we might approach the tracking when we—"

"Get in the backseat, wizard."

He blinks through his ridiculous copper-wired glasses. "I—but I thought we should—"

"Backseat."

the rear

I sigh.

is going

it, I click my

frame behind Owen’s seat. He looks like he’s considering various methods of angelic decapitation. Behind the driver is the worst spot for someone his size, but it isn’t my fault he didn’t get in the car before the

the engine without

we going?" Aaron asks, his knee knocking against the back of Owen’s seat in what I suspect is a completely intentional

probably has the patience

between us as he leans forward. "I still have the energy from our—" His cheeks

"Sit back, wizard."

"Yes, ma’am."

know Aaron’s grinding his

announce. "We’re going to Owen’s place

This time the Lycan’s the one to lean forward and shove his face in my space, and I press my palm against it

doesn’t budge, and his tongue

into my arm and shove again. He jerks

Oops.

leave," Owen says, unfazed by the wolf’s shenanigans. His silver-gray

skies. For what

from behind me, the word coming

look back, an eyebrow arching. He’s prodding at his nose gingerly, checking for damage. A drop of blood

Again: oops.

concerned. Wolves heal fast. It’s

his thumb across his nostril, smearing the blood. "Nah. That was a hell of a push, though. Do we have paper towels in

of various colors and types, and I toss a few at him. They flutter in the air, and he snatches one

tells him, his voice wavering a little with his sudden

A simple palm against his forehead is enough to send him flopping back into his seat. His copper-wired glasses go

no way he’s hurt, which

be one of those hopeless, lovelorn cases. The

No, thanks.

emphatically to the empty space between Owen’s seat and mine. "See this? This is a no-person zone. Stay the fuck out of my personal bubble, both of you. If I can smell your breath, you’re too close. If I can feel it, I will punch your face. Got

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