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“Well, you’re particularly good at them. I love the old man. The butterflies were nice, too.”

Cullen chuckled. “You did all the wee birds.”

“I did.” Orion nuzzled his temple. “Shall we look for a tapestry? We could hang it in the upstairs hall.”

“Oh, I’d love that.” He had a ton of rooms—a dozen little rooms over three floors, all with a different theme. Suns, moons, bears, games—whatever amused him at the time. His room was in the tower, and it faced the Land of Summer, the sunlight keeping it warm and cozy, no matter the season in Lunastra or on earth. “I can clean out a room for Basil, you know. I want him to be comfortable.”

“Oh, Basil is going to want to be down in the basement. He loves to snuggle and create his own space.”

“So long as he knows he’s got a home here.”

Orion squeezed him. “You’re amazing, lover. So kind to me.”

Why wouldn’t he be?

Hell, he was the one who had insisted that Orion come to stay. He had known from the second he’d met Orion, he needed to protect his unicorn from the human world.

They didn’t understand real magic. They’d want to hurt Orion, study him.

He found himself just standing there, resting against Orion, letting time pass in his arms. It was odd for him, to not feel the urge to run about and be wild, to be relaxed and quiet in his soul.

Finally, he took a deep breath. “Let’s find our tapestry. I think the hallway on the second floor is screaming for a unicorn.”

“Screaming?”

“Whining?” He chuckled softly.

“How about begging?” Orion nibbled his ear. “I like begging.”

“You’re awful. Terrible. I may have to beat you.” He laughed, though, and turned, pushing into Orion’s arms and lifting his face for a kiss. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Yes. Yes, sweet dragon. I’m glad I’m here as well.” Orion nibbled at his bottom lip, teasing him. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Nowhere.”

“Promise?” Was he being needy? Maybe he was, but this whole mating thing was new. He thought about how hard it had been for Cosmo and Hawk to get in sync, but then Hawk’s house had come with him, and that had all been an explosion of change…

“Ah-ha!” Orion tugged him over to a side wall, where a tapestry was draped over what looked like a hunt board. Like something old and gorgeous. The hunt board. The tapestry was encased in layers of unbleached muslin.

“Can we bring this upstairs too?” He went to explore the hunt board—the wood was warm and well-oiled, with a row of drawers and heavy iron drawer pulls. He opened the drawers, finding twine, a little knife, buttons, linens. “Is it yours? Why is it down here?”

“I think that Basil is worried to come abovestairs, love.”

“Well, that’s awful.” He looked around. “Basil? Basil, if you can hear me, this is Cullen, and you are more than welcome here, and you can put furniture upstairs. If we need it moved, we’ll move it!”

Orion chuckled softly. “You are a good dragon, you know that?”

“Only half of me,” he teased. “The other half is wicked fae.”

Not that fae were particularly wicked. They simply had different priorities.

Beauty. Art. Sunshine. Music. Dance. Making love.

Things like work were overrated, no question.

“So…that’s what is outside the kitchen door, is it?”

Cullen nodded. “That’s where my mother and father live. You can even see their chimney from the window. We can see Mother’s gardens from the bedroom.”

Orion tilted his head, blinked. “Oh? What does she grow?”