Page 43 of Who Owns You?

“Which one?” I part my fingers and peek through the space to see him holding one that is part realism and part imagination.

I don’t know why I think he knits. Maybe it’s because he makes me feel cozy and safe? Or maybe it’s because I’m delusional.

“It’s really lifelike,” Marcus says suddenly, joining the green gargoyle at my back. They’re both mostly monstrous and handsome. “Wait a tick, didn’t you start that blanket a few weeks back? In the attic!”

I jerk my hands away from my face and turn to them, but since I’m sitting on my stool, my eyes meet the front of their pants. I swallow hard, trying not to imagine what’s behind those zippers as I look up and up and up until I reach their faces.

Marcus is the picture of joy and excitement, holding the canvas with his smile in one hand and pointing at the painting of Julius with the other. Julius is cradling the canvas with his visage painted on it and staring with an unreadable expression.

“Marcus, I think you might just be right,” Julius whispers, his eyes going slowly from the canvas to me. As his eyes lock with mine, he startles before he smiles. “You did me an incredible justice. I don’t think I have that many muscles in my arms anymore.”

“Anymore?” I question softly.

“We all used to be way more fit when we were on active protection duty,” Marcus says, setting the canvas down gingerly and walking over to the large window that overlooks the area in the front of the castle. The area where he showed me how good he is at football.

“I think you’re both still pretty buff, huge actually…like statues,” I mumble.

“Like gargoyles,” Julius says teasingly, offering me the canvas back. “But we can still gain muscle tone and lose some of it. Magic is funny, especially for those born this way.”

“So all of you were born…gargoyles, that is…not made?” I ask, trying to remember the fragments of that conversation. Iwas under a blanket at the time and quite enjoying how soft it was.

Julius hesitates. “It’s a bit of a sensitive subject for some?—”

“For Atlas. He means it’s sensitive for Atlas.” Marcus butts in.

“Right, Atlas is sensitive about born versus made gargoyles because he was made while the rest of us were born. Other than how one comes to be alive, we are the same at a biological level, but some?—”

“Arseholes,” Marcus says with a scowl.

“That is the best word for them. They see being made as not as good as being born.”

“Well, that explains the chip on his shoulder the size of Texas,” I grumble, though I feel bad for him. I’ve never been so hostile to someone I’ve hardly interacted with before, but something about Atlas sets me on edge.

“That and the fact that he is the youngest,” Marcus says, swaggering back toward me and offering me his hand. “I am the second youngest but the most handsome.”

I giggle and slip my fingers into his, spreading the remnants of the paint on my skin across his stone.

“Of course you are,” Julius says with a playful roll of his eyes behind the golden frame of his glasses. “Now, shall we do what we planned and actually ask the lady on a date or just whisk her away to it?”

“A date?” I balk.

“A date,” Marcus purrs. He pulls me close to his body and wraps his arms around my waist.

“With both of us, if that wasn’t clear.” Julius pushes his golden glasses up the elegant slope of his nose.

“Darius did say something about you all going for the same girl or something like that.” I bite back another giggle of embarrassment.

“When did you talk to Darius about dating us?” Marcus asks adorably, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“There was a little magical incident almost two weeks ago when the alarm went off…before things got all busy,” I say, trying not to wince.

“Really? Our alpha?” Julius asks with a laugh. “He’s so reserved, but I’m not surprised you were the one to crack him, darling.”

I blush and melt a little on my stool at the tender name.

“I mean, it’s a good thing because you’re our?—”

Julius elbows Marcus in the gut and grins extra wide, sidling closer to me and blocking his nest partner with his wings. “You’re everything we could want in a woman. Gorgeous, talented, incredibly sweet, and you like my cooking.”