Page 74 of Son of a Witch

I giggled. “It was the best I could do on short notice, okay? Yours is better than mine.” I waved my Robin Hood ensemble with tights as well as the hat.

He dropped the packet to his knees and rolled his wheelchair back a few paces. “You did all this?”

I backed away, stripping my Guardians uniform, peeling the zipper at the back, sliding it down one shoulder, and shaking it at Tor for a little striptease. “With help from friends.”

He laughed for the hell of it, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Two sexy friends?” For once, Tor sounded like himself. “Juicy, tight asses? Pecs.” He pretended to grab either a pec or ass cheek and bite it. “Legs for days? Long hair to tug?”

I played along with his game, dropping my voice low, “That sounds like them.”

Tor hummed his satisfaction. “Are they hiding in here, ready to jump out at me and battle us in their goofy outfits?”

I lowered the opposite shoulder, covering my breasts, shimmying my uniform down my chest. “No. It’s just us.”

Tor’s eyes misted up at the touching gesture. “I’ll have to give them a steamy thank you kiss.”

Keeping up my striptease, I inched my uniform down, flashing some of my incredibly sexy Guild-issue white cotton bra. “Yeah, you will.” I gave him my best breathy voice.

Tor wheeled his chair back three paces. “Come on, Supergal.”

No way, he wasn’t getting out of this. We spent hours transforming the room. I planned this for days. Begged the damn warden to make it happen. Negotiated a deal with Selena to make up the time we missed in the Watch Tower.

“Don’t make me play alone, Superguy,” I purred, tugging my leg out of my regular gear, bending down, and running my fingers along my silky skin.

Tor’s broken smile severed another quarter of my heart. Fuck. I was upsetting him more than inspiring him.

Desperate for him to smile—really smile—I twirled, shaking my ass in my boring cotton underwear. “If you kill Nightmare, I’ll give you a lap dance.”

Tor nodded and scrubbed his stubbled jaw. “Now, that’s motivation.”

For the next five minutes, I helped him into his costume, tugging his leggings on, then letting him have the pleasure of dressing me where he could.

His fingers lingered on my waist, his other palm coasting along my ass. “You look good. Crimefighter-worthy.”

I hiccup-laughed, thrilled he hadn’t veered out of here.

Fully dressed, I picked up the plastic sword, setting one over the arms of Tor’s chair. I tapped at it, making cheesy movie clashing noises for effect.

A ghost of a smile chased across his haunted face. Tor played along half-heartedly, giving me light taps to meet mine, his interest waning by the second. I kept up my parrying for a little while, then lowered my sword.

“Hungry?” I moved to the basket at the back of the room and picked it up. “I had Cook make your favorite.” My hands shook on my return as I peeled back the tea towel to reveal the shepherd’s pies.

“Supergal, I’m no use to you like this.” His crushed tone shattered me. “I can’t play. I can’t do anything.”

Heat boiled at the base of my spine, and I hit him, hard enough to snap him out of that. “Don’t say that! I don’t care if you’re in a wheelchair. You’re mine. If this is one of those speeches where you say you’re not good enough for me, encouraging me to break things off with you. Guess what? I’m not!”

The tears came. The ones I’d been holding back for him. To protect him from feeling useless and ruined. The ones I buried for losing Raze.

Tor stabbed his plastic sword between his arm and his wheel. “Settle down, Supergal.” He reached for me and clasped my wrists, rubbing his thumb over my chilled flesh. “Nobody’s breaking up with anybody.”

Thank God.

I felt stupid for letting my emotions get the better of me and snapping. Circumstances wore me down, hollowed my heart, turned me brittle, melo-fucking-dramatic. I didn’t want to regret staying, turning down a get-out-of-jail card from Luna, if Tor ended our relationship.

“Good. Cause you can’t get rid of me.” I swiped at the tears and sniffed. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that again. I love you. Any way you come. Stand. Sit. Deaf. Blind. I don’t fucking care.”

He deserved to know how much I would fight for him. Just like I fought to save Raze from death by Lycan venom.

Tor rubbed at his cheeks, then over his mouth. “Supergal… I…” He couldn’t get out what he wanted to say.

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