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 door, now a kicked lovesick

I sigh.

men is going

before Aaron can even think about it, I click my seatbelt into place and stare at the side of Owen’s face. "Your

to go in the back, where he crams his tall 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,

the engine without

knee knocking against the back of Owen’s seat in

He probably has

Thom pipes up, poking his head between us as he leans forward. "I still have the energy from our—" His cheeks flush as he looks at me out of the side of his eye. "From

"Sit back, wizard."

"Yes, ma’am."

without looking, I know Aaron’s grinding his

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

one to lean forward and shove his face in my space, and

doesn’t budge, and his tongue flicks out

lose, I infuse the faintest hint of arcana into my arm and shove again. He

Oops.

the wolf’s shenanigans. His silver-gray

skies. For what

me, the word

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

Again: oops.

not particularly concerned. Wolves heal fast. It’s probably

his thumb across his nostril, smearing the blood. "Nah. That was a hell of a push, though.

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

his sudden and random bravado. His glasses slip down as he leans

enough to send him flopping back into his seat. His copper-wired glasses go askew, and he looks up at the car’s ceiling with a dazed

way he’s hurt, which

hopeless, lovelorn cases. The

No, thanks.

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

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