Page 44 of Who Owns You?

“You’re smart too!” Marcus says, grabbing one of Julius’ wings and jerking it down to smile at me.

“You two are a lot,” I laugh, standing and putting my hands on my hips. “Do I have time to change or…?”

“No need to change. It’s a sort of an inside-the-castle date,” Marcus says quickly, scampering around Julius and taking one of my hands in both of his. “I don’t want to waste any more time. Come on.” He begins to tug me toward the door of my workroom before he even finishes the sentence.

Julius follows us with an easy smile on his face.

A room at the top of the tower proves to be the perfect spot for movie marathons. It’s the only way to properly use a space where the entire floor is covered in mattresses with enough pillows and blankets to choke a horse.

“This place looks amazing.”

“It’s our nest!” Marcus beams. “We tend to hang in here when we want quality time. We put in a movie screen, and since there are only little windows”—he points to the small ones toward the top of the rounded room for emphasis—“there’s hardly any light to disrupt.”

“It’s a communal space for us that has a little extra magic to help us recover from any injuries or exhaustion,” Julius adds as he settles into a spot against the wall that seems very much like “his spot,” with a basket of knitting supplies and a mostly made blanket sticking out. “It’s sort of sacred,” he says with a smile that doesn’t impress the gravity of the space.

Marcus dives into another spot with such force it causes a soccer ball to pop out of a pile of blankets and launch across the room. I squeal and dive out of the way, burying myself in the softness of the floor-bed.

“This is incredible. I swear I’ve read something just like it in a romance book once or twice.”

“Or a dozen times.” Julius teases me with a knowing smile.

“Do you read romance?” I ask with a soft, fake gasp.

“Of course I do, it’s the best genre.” He grins. “I started a book club with Darius about a hundred years ago. It’s been the best part of our biweekly forced nest time.”

“You’re telling me Mr. Serious reads romance too?”

“It’s so fucking boring,” Marcus groans from somewhere under the sea of blankets.

I push myself up on my elbows, trying to find him. It’s hard to lose such a massive man, but in this wonderful mess, I guess it’s actually possible. Then I see a blanket move, like something is wriggling underneath, and it’s coming closer. As the shape reaches me, I finally see a flash of his yellow tail before Marcus springs from under the blankets and tackles me gently.

“Please tell me we don’t have to watch romance movies, pleeeeeease,” he begs against the shell of my ear. “I’ve been eyeing a documentary for ages, and I want to watch it with you, get all of your thoughts on the subject.”

I snort and press my face into the blankets, letting a laugh filter out. This feels too good to be true.

“I’m not that smart, Marcus. You’re being too kind, but sure, we can watch your documentary,” I say.

“Sweet!” he cheers, hopping off me and crawling across the room to a closet built into the wall.

It sits flush with the bricks around it, and I wouldn’t have known it was there unless one of them pointed it out. He pops it open and fiddles around with a projector, clicking a button and making a screen roll down to cover the entrance area.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Marcus says with a bright smile as he lowers the light.

“Are you a cuddler?” Julius asks softly, reaching for me with one hand, the half-finished blanket clutched in the other.

“Very much so,” I say, a desperate little trill escaping me as I crawl over and sit beside Julius.

Chapter 17

JULIUS

As the creditsbegin to roll, I glance up, bleary eyed, from my knitting project to see that Marcus has passed out cuddling Charlotte’s feet, and she’s fallen asleep with her head on my shoulder. The little witch is drooling on my sweater, but I can’t muster up the ire I normally would at someone getting my clothes dirty.

I guess this is what it feels like to have a mate.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Atlas’ voice sounds through the small room before his silhouette appears against the screen. He tosses it up, quickly stepping into the nest with a scowl.

“Kidding you about what?” I ask in a whisper, trying not to disturb the sleeping witch who stirs my heart or the gargoyle who has been my companion for hundreds of years.

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