The male in question stepped closer until the tips of his shoes were nearly touching the tips of her own. He was taller than her by at least six inches. Myanin didn’t have to tilt her head back to look up at him, but she had to raise her eyes. He was handsome, she couldn’t deny that, even with the strange yellow eyes. His face was chiseled, and his hair was dark and not quite shoulder length. The warlock had full lips and long, dark eyelashes. He could have been considered pretty if he wasn’t so masculine. Gerick leaned even closer, and Myanin wasn’t sure what to do.
Part of her wanted to hide because the shame inside felt like a blaring alarm screaming “murderer” when people looked at her. Another part of her wanted to beg him to never stop looking at her. She wanted to ask him what he saw when he gazed at her. Does he see what I once was? Or what I am now? And the much less shameful part of her, that seemed to be strongly linked to her magic, wanted to rub up against him and ask him if he liked it. She internally groaned. Fantastic, she wasn’t just a creeper, but a horny creeper. As she stared up at Gerick, the ache inside of her deepened. She knew this male was important to her. It wasn’t an emotion she understood, but she would bet her life on it. This warlock, this Gerick, was someone who was going to change her life.
“Mate,” he said, just as she finished her own thought. “You’re my mate.” He seemed confused by the revelation, as if maybe he shouldn’t know it with such certainty. Yet he did. His eyes and mouth showed his resolve. He didn’t back away in horror or shake his head as if he was disappointed. If anything, he gazed at her in awe.
There was a string of curses by multiple voices behind him. All Myanin could do was stand there and blink like a damn idiot. No words would leave her mouth. Hell, she didn’t even know if she was breathing. The word “mate” reverberated off the inside of her skull. It wasn’t possible. There’d never been a mating between a djinn and a warlock. Ever. As in, never ever.
“That’s not possible.” Myanin finally managed to get her mouth to move. Her voice was softer than she’d ever heard it.
“A couple years ago it wasn’t possible for a wolf to mate with a fae,” Peri said from behind Gerick, “and yet, here we are, one big, happy supernatural orgy.”
“Peri,” Lucian growled.
“What?” Peri growled right back. “I’m irritated. You know how I get when I’m irritated.”
“When are you not irritated?” Lilly asked.
“Not now, queenie,” Peri said. “Your general is being tempted to the dark side by djinn cookies. You might want to pay attention.”
“Actually, it’s cotton candy,” Lilly said. “The dark side has apparently traded up from cookies.”
Gerick still stared at Myanin as if she were a mystery, and he wasn’t sure how to solve her. She wasn’t doing much better. In fact, she didn’t know what the hell she was supposed to do. It was becoming a familiar feeling. At one point in her life, she’d known where she stood. She’d known her role. Now, after everything she’d done, after all she’d seen and experienced, she had no clue where she belonged in the world anymore.
“I don’t understand,” Gerick said, his voice deep but gentle.
“Welcome to the ways of the Great Luna,” Peri said.
“I don’t know you, Gerick, but if it makes you feel any better, I just found out that I’m mated to a werewolf who’s loyal to the Order,” Tenia said. “So, it could be worse.”
“I’m not aware if that’s a compliment or not,” Myanin muttered, her eyes fixed on the male in front of her. She wasn’t sure what she thought he would do, but paying attention seemed prudent, considering he, too, seemed utterly fascinated with her. Myanin attempted to convince herself she wasn’t nearly as fascinated by him. But she knew that was a losing battle. Not to mention her magic, which had apparently decided that Gerick was her new favorite flavor of cotton candy, was trying to get a taste by switching on every nerve ending in Myanin’s body. The air around her seemed electrified, and her magic wanted to follow the currents directly to Gerick’s body. Get a damn grip, female. Myanin mentally chastised her magic. She’d never felt it react this way before.
“Is that why I smell Skender’s scent on you?” Lucian asked Tenia. “It is faint but still there.”
“It was faint because he only touched me twice, and it was brief,” Tenia said. “He’s guarding the door where my young is being held,” she explained. “He swore to me he would protect my son with his life. Can I trust him?” Even with her focus on Gerick, Myanin could hear the desperation in Tenia’s voice.
Lucian didn’t answer right away. As Myanin waited to hear how the wolf would respond, Gerick’s hand lifted and reached toward her face. Call it a knee-jerk reaction, and perhaps an overreaction because the djinn didn’t understand her magic’s response to him, but Myanin slapped his hand away. “No touching,” she said, her voice sharp. To her surprise, instead of being offended, Gerick’s lips turned up in a small, crooked smile that was much too sexy for her liking. She let out a shaky breath and pulled her shoulders back.
He finally took a step back and moved to the side so she could see the rest of the room, but his eyes
