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."

back to the rear door, now a kicked lovesick

I sigh.

these men is going to be

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

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, but it isn’t my fault

engine

asks, his knee knocking against the back

He probably

now," 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

"Sit back, wizard."

"Yes, ma’am."

know Aaron’s grinding his molars

tracking yet," I announce. "We’re going to Owen’s

lean forward and shove his face in my space, and I press my palm against it to push him

and his tongue flicks out against my

arm and shove

Oops.

leave," Owen says, unfazed by the wolf’s shenanigans. His silver-gray eyes remain fixed on the road, as calmly

clear skies. For what

says from behind me, the word coming out pinched

eyebrow arching. He’s prodding at his nose gingerly, checking

Again: oops.

concerned. Wolves heal fast. It’s probably fine by now even if it was

blood. "Nah. That was a hell of a push, though. Do we have paper towels in here? Napkins? Baby wipes

and I toss a few at him. They flutter in the air, and he snatches one and lets the others

his voice wavering a little with his sudden and random

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

no way he’s hurt,

The

No, thanks.

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

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