Page 4 of The Last Wish (Lost Legacy #1)

CHAPTER

FOUR

GIDEON

T he birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and I couldn’t ask for a better day to run. Too bad my mind is a million miles away. I finish stretching and take off anyway.

Each morning, I wind my way up and down the mountain trail, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. The altitude was a bitch at first, but I’m used to it now. The exercise is great for burning off my energy and keeping my animal in check.

Cal and I picked this spot for our cabin because it feels wild. We're in Colorado; it doesn't take long to get to the mountains no matter where you live here, but this section of the Rockies is literally our backyard.

My arms pump as I dig deeper. Faster. Harder. If I push hard enough maybe I’ll be able to outrun all the shit in my head.

Despite the breeze, I’m working up a sweat today. I should be enjoying myself, but instead I feel like I’m about to miss a step and swan dive off the side off the cliff. Seriously, my brain is more twisted than a corn maze right now, and I’ve never been great with puzzles.

I up my pace, feeling the burn from my calves to my quads. I trip over a loose rock. It’s easy to regain my balance, but the rock isn’t so lucky. It disappears over the edge, swallowed up by the morning mist.

If I’d ever stopped to consider what I wanted from the gods before maybe it would be her. But it’s literally never crossed my mind. I picture the waitress, my mate, in my head. Dark hair, dark circles under her eyes, and a level of exhaustion that goes a hell of a lot deeper than a few sleepless nights. She’s beautiful and tough, but something about her seems fragile, like I could break her with one wrong move.

I don’t do well around fragile things. My mom has always joked about needing to tie things down to keep me from knocking them over. While I’ve grown into my size now, it’s not like I’ve had much practice with breakable people.

She’s not what I need, not even a little bit. My brain knows this, but my body and soul don’t care. Even now, there’s a tug in my chest, pushing me to turn around and go back to her. The longer I spend scrambling up this trail, the more frustrated it gets.

How can my body know we’re made for each other when I have absolutely no idea what she is?

She doesn't smell like a shifter, but she doesn't feel like a demon or fae. I guess she could be a witch, but magic leaves a residue behind that's almost impossible to mask—even for the most powerful magic users.

Part of me wants to just throw all my cards on the table. If I tell her what she is to me, we could decide what to do together. Except that would send her running. I know that in my gut.

She might actually be the least trusting person I’ve ever met. That's saying something, considering the dodgy nature of most supernaturals. If I come right out and tell her everything, I'll never see her again.

I’m not ready to face that, so I can’t risk complete honesty yet. But I also don’t want to lie to her. Everything in me rebels against the idea of keeping secrets from my mate. That's why I've let Callum do the talking. He's better with words anyway, and I'm likely to give something away or scare her into running again if I take over.

After she went to bed, Callum and I hammered out a game plan with three simple objectives. Number one: don’t scare her off. Number two: figure out what she is. Number three: find out who is hunting her and rip them into tiny pieces.

This approach requires patience. Based on how well I slept last night knowing she was safe under my roof, it will be worth it in the long run. A sharp pinch hits my chest, so I give in and turn around.

Making my way down the mountain, I feel a little more confident. We may not even know her name, but I trust Callum with my life. If he thinks baby steps are the key to earning her trust, I’ll tiptoe around for as long as it takes. Fated mates are practically a myth. I’m not about to be the first one in history to spit on a gift from the gods.

The house comes into view, and I slow down to let my body cool off.

I toe my trail shoes off and kick them out of the porch walkway, pulling my shirt off and using it to wipe away my sweat. Walking into the kitchen, I see her standing at the coffee pot.

Despite the cooldown, my heart damn near beats itself out of my chest when she looks me over from head to toe. The feeling of her eyes running over my skin makes me want to do something incredibly stupid like snatch her up and nibble on her neck.

I do neither, thank the gods. But I can't resist testing her reaction to me by reaching over her head to grab a coffee mug. As I expect, she freezes when I flex my bare abs and arms.

“Good morning,” I mutter.

I don't think she even hears me. She’s watching a bead of sweat trickle down my chest like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. Her green eyes track the progress of the drop until it disappears into the waistband of my sweatpants.

She wants me.

The thought makes me want to roar in triumph and sweep her off her feet. I hold myself back again, willing myself not to get a boner and ruin the moment.

I guess unflappable self-control is my new fucking superpower.

Take that, mom.

SHEENA

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and my heart hums shamelessly in my chest.

This man is dangerous, and I've just made a fool of myself. I’m not sure which is worse. He must have some kind of mind-control power because there's no reason I should be objectifying a complete stranger.

Christ, I stared at that man like he was a piece of meat. All he was trying to do was get some coffee. Part of me is embarrassed, but the other part is still obsessing over his sweaty muscles and how tiny he makes me feel. Seriously, is it even natural to be that tall?

I should be scared, so why do I want to get closer? I blame my deranged behavior on the stress of the last twenty-four hours.

Gideon watches me silently from a safe distance away, sipping his coffee from a swiveling chrome barstool. Since he’s studying me, I return the favor. Dark blonde hair falls in messy curls around his ears, and there's some stubble built up on his jaw. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but if I had to guess, he’s probably worried his houseguest is about to jump him.

For a second, I imagine what it would feel like to cross the room and press my lips to his. Would they be soft or is a man of his size incapable of being gentle? A shiver runs down my spine.

Oh my god, I did it again.

When I see him smirking behind his coffee cup, I mentally slap myself. I’ve got to snap out of it.

After the best night of sleep I’ve had in years, I decided this was a good chance to find out more about the supernatural world. Ever since I was violently tossed into the middle of it, I’ve been wildly unprepared. Maybe if I understood more about what was going on, I’d have an easier time staying out of it. Either way, as long as I feel safe here, this is a rare opportunity for me.

I clear my throat.

“So, you're a shapeshifter, Gideon?” When he smiles at me, it encourages me to keep going. “How long have you known about that?”

His smile doesn’t fade, but he looks confused now.

I’m just relieved he’s not mad.

“I've always known,” he explains. “Both my parents are omnis. My dad prefers birds of prey, but my mom likes cats.”

His deep voice rolls over me and his eyes twinkle. More bare skin appears in the corner of my vision. I blink a few times. What did he say?

“You always were a momma's boy.” Callum dodges Gideon's playful punch as he joins us in the kitchen, his husky chuckle echoing around the room.

My mouth goes dry. He's shirtless too.

Jesus, does no one in this house fully dress themselves?

I’m just trying to drink my coffee and mind my own business, and this guy is strutting around in nothing but athletic shorts and a backwards cap, his tattooed chest and arms on display, just asking me to...

Goddammit.

Heat rushes to my cheeks. I’ve now lived long enough to see myself become a walking, talking, waving in the wind, red flag. I add shame to the growing list of unpleasant emotions churning in my gut.

It’s not fair.

“Good morning...?” The demon—his word, not mine—looks at me with a friendly smile. There’s an obvious question lingering at the end of his greeting. He’s asking for my name. Do I dare give it to him?

I’m surprised when I realize I want to share this small piece of me.

“I’m Sheena.”

When I give them my name, part of me expects something terrible to happen. When it doesn’t, my exhale comes out ragged. It’s noticeable, and I’m a little embarrassed. It’s just a name. Everyone has one, but it’s one of the few things I own. After guarding every piece of myself for years, I desperately want to hear someone say it with a fraction of warmth.

If my breathing is over the top, his smile makes my reaction look tame. Callum knocks me off kilter yet again with his white, gleaming teeth and genuine joy.

A wave of fear sinks into my heart. I can't let them become important. My rules are clear.

Gideon slips off the stool. He’s surprisingly graceful for a man his size, but it’s impossible not to notice when he moves. He walks over to me, transferring his coffee mug to his left hand and reaching out with his right.

It hangs in the air between us waiting for me to decide.

He could snap my arm like a twig. Something tells me he won’t.

I slide my hand into Gideon’s outstretched one. His fingers and palm are rough with calluses, and my hand disappears, completely swallowed by his size. He shakes our clasped hands up and down gently.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Sheena,” he rumbles. My eyes drift shut, overwhelmed by the sound. My name has never sounded so perfect.

The buzzing in my chest goes silent.

I suck in a breath.

Romantic fantasies are a thing of my past—the hopes of a lonely child that pain forced me to outgrow. Given my experiences, I learned long ago that happily ever after only belongs in storybooks. But there’s something about the way I feel right now...

I guess I get why some people risk everything for a chance to feel.

Like they know how difficult it was for me to give them my name, neither man asks any follow-up questions. Instead, Callum digs through the cabinets, pulling out a pan and asking me what my favorite omelet ingredients are. Though I don’t register words leaving my mouth, I must say something, because before I know it, I’m sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming breakfast in front of me. It’s the best thing I’ve eaten in years.

I feel like the foundation I’ve built my life on is crumbling beneath me, but the banter between Gideon and Callum is easy and light.

“You've known each other for a long time then?” I ask, clinging to their normalcy and hoping it rubs off on me.

Gideon smiles as he chews an enormous bite, and Callum takes over seamlessly. He’s clearly used to speaking up when his friend can’t.

“Since we were born, actually.” Callum smiles at Gideon, a genuine expression that shows off his perfect teeth. “Our parents went to school together and now lead the same enclave. Lots of kids didn't trust me because of my... heritage, but Gideon always shut them up. Before I knew it, I was stuck with him.”

The giant blonde man looks almost embarrassed, a rosy blush spreading up his neck and across his cheeks.

“Yeah, well, kids are dumb.” Gideon clears his throat. “I knew you were pack from the start.”

Watching Callum from the corner of my eye, I can see the words sink in. There’s a moment of silence as he stares across the table at his friend.

“Anyway, we went to the academy together...” Callum trails off when he notices my confused look. “Starfall Academy. It sounds pretentious as fuck, but supernaturals are pretty big on traditions. Students learn how to handle their powers and choose vocational skills that will benefit their enclave. Pretty much everyone goes there.”

Except me, apparently.

Gideon nods and picks up where Callum left off.

“Yeah, think of it as an undergrad program for everyone who isn’t quite human.” He smiles at me warmly, dimples popping up again on his cheeks. “I bet you would have been there at the same time as us. We graduated four years ago.”

There it is. Another optional opportunity to share more about myself. It's a kind gesture, and I'm honestly tempted, but I don't take him up on it.

“It sounds like a magical place. Do you like the work you do now?” I’m obviously fishing for info, but neither of them calls me out on it. Gideon shrugs.

“It’s interesting, I guess. Especially when we get to investigate stuff. We don't patrol or arrest people for public nudity after they shift or anything dumb like that, but there is crime.” Gideon scratches the back of his neck. “Recently, we’re looking into a possible case of trafficking.”

He’s watching me carefully now, and I realize I might not be the only one fishing.

“We're trying to figure out if it's a group of human zealots or some supernatural gang snatching up women with no protection.”

I gulp and feel my skin pebble.

What he’s describing sounds so familiar that I feel like someone dropped a cube of ice down the back of my shirt. It also wasn’t subtle at all. I expect to feel panic, and maybe I would if it wasn’t for the obvious worry radiating off of him.

Is he worried about me?

No one has looked at me like that since I was a teenager, not since—I stop that train of thought in its tracks. I need to act normal. Absolutely no good can come of me taking a trip down memory lane right now.

A sharp, unexpected zap in my chest cavity makes me jump. I rub the heel of my hand over my heart to ease the pressure, and Gideon tracks the movement with burning golden eyes. His stare, the buzzing in my chest... It’s all too intense. I can’t do this. Staying here was a mistake.

I look to the door and brace to run, but I never get the chance. Gideon stands, yanking me into his hard body roughly for—a hug. He folds me into his chest and wraps himself around me like a blanket. As if we’re not strangers who just met. Like he knew I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and about to sprint from the room screaming.

He can’t just put his hands on me like this.

I’m bracing to push back and make a run for it when I notice the maddening live wire in my chest has finally gone quiet. The peace is so unexpected and wonderful that instead of shoving him away, I breathe a sigh of relief and relax into his chest.

“Sorry, Sheena. Just trying to give the connection what it needs,” he rumbles near my ear. I feel the words against my cheek. One big hand cradles the back of my head gently, and I can hear his heart thumping beneath his skin. It's a reassuring sound, and despite everything, I try to turn my brain off and accept the comfort of it.

I can always run later. Once I figure out what he’s hiding.

A clatter at the sink makes me jump and I lift my head to see Callum washing dishes. He's got his back to us, a flimsy attempt to give us some privacy, but blood rushes to my face, anyway. He must think I'm some sort of weak woman with the common sense of a fruit fly.

Hell, I practically just climbed his best friend in the kitchen minutes after revealing my name. I stiffen and try to pull away. I don’t get far.

“Cal, leave the dishes for a second. It’s group hug time,” Gideon insists, pulling my head back into his chest. I hear a soft chuckle a second before more warm skin molds to my back. Tattooed arms stretch past me to wrap around Gideon as well.

I’m surrounded.

A shiver runs down my spine, but for once I’m not scared. While Callum is a lot taller than me, he's significantly shorter than the blonde giant that is Gideon. Callum tucks his chin on top of my head like he’s done it a million times.

“You are such a cuddler, dude,” he mutters. “Sheena, keep an eye on him. He'll find any excuse to snuggle and try to make it mandatory.” Callum’s words are playful but filled with affection. It's obvious he doesn't mind.

“It's nice,” I murmur, surprised to find I mostly mean it. “No one's ever...” I trail off, embarrassed to admit it’s been a long time since I mattered enough to anyone to be held. The sudden tension in both of their bodies tells me they got the message loud and clear.

“Get used to it,” Gideon says as he pulls back gently. “I’ve got a hug with your name on it ready whenever you want.”

It’s a little awkward, but neither of them makes a big deal about it. They both simply unravel their limbs and move over to the sink like nothing happened. I stare for a few minutes, trying to process.

The door is right there. They have their backs turned, but something tells me I’m not done here. Trusting my gut, I grab the drying towel hanging from the oven door and step up to the sink.

Gideon hands me the first dish with a smile, and we finish them all in companionable silence. Once the skillet is stowed under the stove, Callum turns to look at me.

“Do you want to rest today or explore?” He glances at my waist. “I know you're pretty bruised up, but I figured you might want to take a look around.”

Is he this trusting? Maybe it’s a trap, but I can hardly pass up a chance to get my bearings in the daylight in case I need to run.

Twisting my torso, I feel the tug of my torn skin. While I’m still a little achy, the worst of the pain is gone. “I think I can handle a little exploring.” I smile at him, and for a split second, I swear I see something moving in his eyes. By the time I blink to get a better look, all I see is the unusual black color I noticed last night.

“That's great, Sheena.” He says my name again. The sound both unnerves me and feels nice. “We can start with the house, see how you feel, and then check out some of the best trails.” Callum glances at Gideon.

“You coming, or do you have other urgent plans?” There’s something about his smirk that makes me feel like I’m missing the punch line of a joke.

“I’m just going to take a shower really quick, but I'll meet you guys outside,” Gideon says. In a flash, he disappears around the corner, then I hear him galloping up the stairs.

With laughter in his eyes, Callum shows me around the main level.

We return to the cozy living room. I see the couch I regained consciousness on—before I was given a guest bedroom to sleep in—and a stone fireplace next to it that I failed to notice yesterday.

There's also a wraparound porch with various entry points around the floor. Callum shows me each of them, including one that jams easily. He shows me how to lift the door slightly to get it to open, then he points out a hidden key under a pot in case I get locked out.

He’s definitely too trusting.

I trail after him, taking in the home gym off the side of the garage. There are weights, a rower, an elliptical machine, and a couple of treadmills. Though I pick up a faint smell of sweat and disinfectant, it's not gross. Black mats cover the floor, and one side is sectioned off for what I can only assume is a sparring zone. I see some boxing gloves dangling from a hook next to some wraps and a haphazard stack of towels.

“We spend a lot of time in here.” He picks up a stray towel and tosses it into a hamper in the corner. “You're welcome to use anything you want. If there's anything you want to change or add, just let us know.”

I nod, like it's not crazy as hell that this complete stranger just offered to let me take over his home gym.

He shows me the rest of the house, including what I now know are five bedrooms upstairs, before leaving me to get ready for the outdoors tour.

I slip into a pair of worn jeans, forcing myself not to overthink things. The rips in the knees come more from rough use than fashion, but they fit perfectly. Tying a flannel around my waist in case I get cold, I shove my feet into the sturdy hiking books I wear on the run. A look at the clock shows it's been almost half an hour since we finished the dishes. I make my way downstairs and out to the porch.

The view takes my breath away.

Since I've been forced to travel so much in my life, you'd think I'd be numb to the beauty of just being outside. Despite it all, I still go misty eyed when I look at the mountains. They are so strong, so old, so dependable. The longer I stare up at them, the more they lend me their strength. Maybe that’s stupid, but I can’t help feeling a little more capable.

The screen door opens with a subtle whine and both men join me. Gideon's cheeks are a little red, and there's something about Callum's smirk that makes me even surer that I’m missing a joke. I search for something—anything—to say, but come up blank. Thankfully, I'm saved when Gideon grins down at me and throws his arm over my shoulder.

“Let's take the ATVs.” Gideon’s deep voice booms with enthusiasm.

I can barely keep up with his long strides. When I try, the raw scrapes on my ribs pull painfully.

“Slow down, you Neanderthal. She's like three feet tall,” Callum shouts from behind us. While I'm grateful he said something about the pace, I narrow my eyes at his wording.

“I’m five foot two, actually,” I sputter. “Probably an inch taller in these shoes.” I stomp the dusty ground to illustrate my point. There’s a tiny pause, then they both burst out laughing. I grind to a halt and their laughter dies down as they exchange glances.

“It's a very respectable height,” Callum backtracks. “Practically average for a woman, I think...” He says the words with a straight face, but my eyes narrow when Gideon can't quite hide how his lips are twitching.

“Yes, yes, Sheena is so tall.” He rolls his eyes as I glare at him. “The only reason I'm doing this is because I want to...” Gideon hoists me onto his back so quickly my head spins, wrapping his giant hands under my thighs. Suddenly, I’m seven feet tall and riding on the back of a giant with no impulse control. “Not because I'm worried we won't make it back by dark at this pace.”

I gasp and demand he put me down, but he just pretends he can't hear me. Instead, he takes off at a bouncy trot, forcing me to grip his shoulders or risk backflipping to my death in the dirt. When I glance over my shoulder for backup, Callum just smirks and matches his jog to ours.

Maybe a quarter of a mile later, we reach a clearing with a small, well-kept barn. Callum places a steadying hand on my back as I slide down to the ground. When I take a step away and turn to face him, he laughs at my wide-eyed, exasperated look.

“I told you, he's a cuddler,” Callum explains, grinning like that even begins to describe the wild, unsanctioned piggyback ride through the woods.

I shake my head. This day is getting weirder by the hour.

CALLUM

I shouldn’t have touched her.

Sheena’s cheeks are rosy. Her dark hair is a little tangled after the jog through the woods. She looks torn between annoyance and embarrassment, and I want to kiss the look right off her face.

I’m a fool.

This is Gideon’s mate . Literally some fated, magical, ‘their souls are designed for each other’ type of shit. Sure, they might not be together yet, but I know what she is to him—what they will be to each other. It’s practically destiny.

There’s just one problem: I still want to kiss her.

I hate myself for it, but my incubus doesn’t care. It's his fucking fault that I want to push Sheena up against a tree and make her moan and scream until her voice goes hoarse. It's definitely his fault that I want to lay her down on top of the ATV and lick her until she's a dripping, whimpering mess, begging for permission to come on my face.

Honestly, that’s all pretty standard issue incubus stuff. But kissing away the embarrassment on her face? I'm not sure I can blame that on demonic nature.

My chest feels tight, the ever-present seed of anxiety in my gut growing exponentially as it feeds on what ifs until I can feel it twisting around my organs like a parasitic vine. What if I ruin everything? What if I lose my best friend? What if I prove everyone right about me?

Lingering lust burns inside me and my power hums beneath my skin, poking, prodding, singeing me from the inside out as it looks for an outlet. I want to gag.

I can’t fuck her, can’t kiss her, can’t ruin this for Gideon. She’s off limits. Full stop. Past, present, or future—no matter how much we would both like it.

I close my eyes and picture all that long, dark hair wrapped around my fist as I pump into—no.

Stop it, Callum. We can’t have her.

I repeat it like a mantra. Shit, I’ll keep reminding myself and my demon as long as it takes to banish the dirty thoughts in my head.

I’m in control. I’m in control, dammit.

My body doesn’t get the message. Gods. It's been years since a daydream made me hard, but here I am about to hop on an ATV with a stiffy. I’m disgusted with myself.

Unable to meet Gideon’s eyes, I shuffle into the barn, giving both of them my back and urging my body to cool off. Grabbing the keys from the lockbox, I toss one set in Gideon’s direction and settle on top of my four-wheeler.

I can feel them both watching me. The vine of anxiety inside me sprouts thorns.

I’ve got to have space. Now.

Without a word, I crank up the ATV and back it out of the barn. I’m acting like an asshole, but I need a minute. It’s not like I can even explain what’s going on. That would be even worse.

Sheena’s suspicious expression brands the side of my face as I take off. She’s just waiting for us to give her a reason to leave. Now I’ve given her one. Gideon is going to kick my ass, and I deserve it.

The cool wind beats against my face, and the vine loosens its hold enough for me to suck in a thread of crisp, wispy oxygen. The air may be thinner up here, but the view is worth the extra effort from my lungs.

Maybe I can salvage this.

When the hum of their engine joins mine, I try to just enjoy the ride. Unable to resist, I glance over my shoulder. Sheena is riding in front, short enough that Gideon can see over the top of her head with no problem. But with the way her body is pressed against him, I can sense the effect it’s having on my friend.

A shiny blue helmet protects Sheena’s head, while Gideon’s massive arms rest securely on either side of her body—a barrier against the occasional overgrown branches crowding the trail. We’ve had that helmet forever but never touched it. I’m not surprised Gideon made her put it on, but I wish he hadn’t—I can't make out her expression behind the tinted visor.

They look so good together.

Seeing Gideon folded around her like that is enough to make me hot all over again. I’ve obviously gone too long without feeding. My demon sees the makings of a delicious meal. I see the beginning of my end.

We ride for about an hour, exploring the trails around our home. It’s relaxing, and some of my unhinged urges fade to the background by the time we reach our favorite spot in front of a small pond. Nestled along the side of the mountain, the water is cold enough to take your breath away year round. It’s mostly made up of the runoff of melting snow from the mountain peaks. Despite the temperature, it’s both gorgeous and peaceful.

After the way I saw Sheena staring at the mountains this morning, I hope she likes it.

Climbing off my ride, I give my hungry incubus one last lecture. I’ll be damned if I screw a friend over because of a lack of self-control. Plus, this woman seems like she’s been through enough already.

I pop open the storage compartment, pulling out the quilt we brought along and laying it on the ground. By focusing completely on the task, I avoid looking at either of them for a full minute. Too bad I can still feel the way she watches me.

She knows something is up.

While a heavy silence lingers between Sheena and I, Gideon makes up for it by talking a mile a minute. He points out the mountain range, the pond, the melting snow, and some random shit about the fuel efficiency of the ATV that I didn’t even know. I’ve never seen him so nervous, chattering like a fourteen-year-old on his first date. Sheena takes pity on him and asks how we found this spot, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Meanwhile, I plop down on the blanket and stare at the horizon like it’s the only thing I’ve ever cared about in my life. I dread finding out what this woman thinks of me now.

When they come over and join me on the quilt, Sheena settles on the very edge. Gideon takes one look at her hovering by the damp ground and drags her into the center of the blanket, right between his legs. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Since that was a weird ass thing to do, Sheena noticeably stiffens.

“I’m sorry. That was...” Gideon stammers, keeping his hands at his sides awkwardly. “I was just... there’s dirt on the ground.”

I burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.

Sheena jumps at the loud sound, then relaxes against him, smirking.

“Makes sense, since we are outside.”

Gideon’s tan gives way to a mottled, red blush, and he narrows his eyes at me as I continue to laugh. But for once, I’ve done something right because I can literally see the tension leaving Sheena’s body.

It’s clear she’s unused to physical affection. Gideon, on the other hand, is tactile in the extreme. He pretty much groups everyone he meets into two categories: people he wants to hug or people he wants to kill. He’s got to tread lightly, or she’s going to bolt.

“Do you want to see me shift?” His question catches us both off guard. That’s the opposite of treading lightly. Sheena’s jaw drops, and I laugh again.

“Damn, you just dropped that on her,” I say when he glares at me. He shrugs and hops to his feet.

“I just thought she might want to see, since last time...” He stops abruptly, realizing he’s just shoved his giant foot in his mouth again.

I’m about to attempt damage control when Sheena giggles.

“It’s okay. I am curious,” she admits. “Can you really turn into anything?” Her big green eyes look up at him, and he gulps. I resist rolling my eyes. He’s such a goner.

“Any animal, as long as I’ve seen it.” He puffs out his chest, and I hide my smile. It’s adorable watching him try to impress her.

“What about like unicorns or dragons?” She teases, but neither of us corrects her. When Gideon steps back and pulls off his shirt with one hand, Sheena is gaping at him in wide-eyed disbelief.

“Wait, they’re real? Are you serious?” By the time she gets the second question out, her voice is barely more than a squeak. When his pants hit the ground, so does her jaw. I choke on another laugh and ignore the zip of heat that shoots through me as she tries to look anywhere but his crotch and fails miserably. Gideon notices, slipping his thumb into the waistband of his boxer briefs with a grin so big I can see both his dimples.

Sheena sputters, and I take pity on her.

“He’s kidding,” I say, tossing a pinecone at his junk. Gideon catches the projectile easily with his shifter reflexes and hurls it back at me. I bat it away and grin.

“Dragons are real, though. I just haven’t seen one,” Gideon insists. “I’m not sure about unicorns.” He’s bouncing up and down now with excitement as Sheena blinks up at him with her mouth hanging open.

“What would you like him to shift into?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

“Well, if I can’t see a unicorn, I don’t know.” Her eyes lick up his bare skin, like she can’t help checking him out. “Why don’t you show me your favorite?”

Oh gods.

I don’t even have time to suggest that maybe this isn’t such a good idea before Gideon vanishes. He squats down as a man, then his body contorts and twists, and a lion stands in front of us. The entire process takes less than a second, but it wasn’t always that way. I wince as I remember dozens of painful, lengthy attempts to shift when he first started.

Sheena stares at the lion, amazement and fear warring for dominance on her face. The cat is huge. He’s almost as tall as me—at least eleven feet long, and a total fucking showboat. There’s prancing, tail swishing, and a roar that makes goose bumps spread along the delicate curve of Sheena’s neck.

When Gideon crouches down and prepares to pounce, my heart jumps to my throat. He launches straight towards her face and I panic. Why didn’t we even consider weird animal reactions to the mate bond?

Before I can throw myself between the two of them, Gideon’s lion changes to a fluffy bunny in mid-air. Landing at the edge of the quilt, he hops the rest of the distance to Sheena, nose and tail wiggling. I can hear her heart pounding from several feet away. She stares down at the tiny, brown rabbit and its violently twitching nose as it feels the anxiety in the air.

This was . . . a joke?

I’m going to kill him.

“He... What?” Sheena stutters, looking to me for answers.

“He’s an idiot,” I sigh, feeling my pulse return to normal as I relax back on my propped arms. The bunny shifts to a puppy then, complete with tiny ears, tiny feet, and a tiny, pitiful whine. The dog, much like the man, is so full of shit. There’s no way Sheena will fall for—nope, I was wrong. She’s eating his act up like a hot fudge sundae.

She scoops the puppy up, cradling him to her chest and pressing kisses to his fuzzy head. He licks her cheek and she giggles. I narrow my eyes at Gideon, watching the goofy grin spread across his canine mouth as she lavishes him with attention. He’s playing her like a fiddle, but it’s nice to see her relax.

I close my eyes, enjoying the peaceful quiet. I might have drifted off to sleep if Sheena’s soft voice didn’t bring me back.

“It’s beautiful out here,” she whispers. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome, Callum.”

There’s tension in her voice that wasn’t there a moment ago. I open my eyes to see her staring out at the water, a faint furrow in her forehead.

She takes my breath away.

“Let us worry about that,” I tell her, watching Gideon’s puppy squirm in her lap. He doesn’t like the direction this conversation is taking, and I can’t say I blame him. Even if I never completely understand the mate bond, I can see he’s already getting attached. Shit. He deserves a chance.

I’ve got to convince her to stay.

“Sheena, the house, this land.” I point at the view all around us. “In a lot of ways, it’s our sanctuary. It could be the same for you.” She looks at me then, her big green eyes studying my face. I will her to feel my sincerity. Part of me wants to keep talking. I can spit lists of logical arguments all day, but instinct tells me to shut up and let her think.

The silence stretches between us, but it’s comfortable. My offer is out there; the choice is hers now. When it’s time to pack up and head back, I stand, offering her my hand. She slips her fingers along my palm with no hesitation. Need rips through me like a tidal wave, but I’m firmly in control now.

I’m more than an incubus. More than a monster. I’m a man, a loyal friend with responsibilities, and godsdammit, I’d rather die than put that look of fear back on her face.

To pacify my hungry demon, I tug her to her feet and press a kiss to her knuckles. I soak up her peachy blush. Her reaction quiets the raging urge I have to lay her back down on the picnic quilt.

For a blink, it feels like we’re the only people on this planet.

Only when dog-Gideon tilts his head to the side and yips do I remember we’re not alone. He shifts back into a naked man, and Sheena’s blush spreads like a wildfire. Yanking her hand from mine, she turns her back politely until he’s dressed, completely missing the silent conversation between Gideon and I. It involves a lot of raised eyebrows and shrugging, but I know I’m fucked. He’s definitely going to bring this up later.

During the ride home, I try to think of a way to explain, but I get nowhere. My mind is too busy replaying the stupid hand kiss to figure out how I’m going to tell my best friend I want the girl who’s meant to be his.