Page 198 of Heart of the High King
“Nobody look, I might’ve peed myself,” Kitchi complained.
“No, you’re fine. It makes you feel like you need to pee, but you don’t actually do it,” Aleksander assured him.
“Whew, that’s a relief,” Kitchi responded, handing the other three men standing there their cups. “Drink up,thenfreak out, guys.”
They did as they were told while Kitchi gave Idris a playful smack. “You need to reword your warning. I’m going to need ten breath mints, and if I find one spot of moisture in my underwear, you’re doing my laundry for not alerting me that could be a problem.”
“I am without words to explain my gratitude,” Devall stated. After drinking, his mouth grew pinched.
“I’m definitely dreaming, right?” Jeremiah asked. “How in the fuck am I holding a potion for immortality?”
His voice had risen with each word, and Aleksander smiled. “Now I can relax; that’s a more normal reaction.”
“Oh fuck, this is awful,” Jeremiah growled, setting down his empty cup.
“Go ahead, Ashby,” Killian coaxed.
Instead of drinking, the druid burst into tears. “All I ever wanted was people to like me,” Ashby whispered. “Everything since I came here is too much. A job I love. A title. Family. Now I get it forever.”
It was Rafe who got up and helped him digest it in a couple of gulps since he was crying too hard to do it all at once, then pulled him into a big hug. “I get it, Ashby. This place is overwhelming in the best ways possible.”
“At least now I know I’m awake. Did you guys add vomit as an ingredient?” Jeremiah demanded.
“Damn, I wish we would’ve thought of that,” Dra’Kaedan teased.
“You love cake. Why not something sweet?”
“Hello, I didn’t know it was going to taste gross, and I’ve never had any. I only learned it was disgusting when we gave it out the first time.”
“Here’s a thought. You still have magic, right? Why not try a spell to make it yummy?”
For a split second, Dra’Kaedan’s normally mischievous countenance was as blank as Jeremiah’s had been when he learned of Immortalis. The warlock bounced back quickly and shook his head. “Yeah, thought it over. Can’t do that. We’d risk altering it.”
“How about handing out a mint afterward?” Kitchi asked, putting yet another one in his mouth from the tin in his hand. Between the ones he was shoving in and handing out, the container would be empty before the room was cleared out.
“We could create some super intense hard candies for that,” Grigori suggested. “Something with the magical ability to essentially scour your mouth.”
“That might be tricky; we don’t want to prevent absorption of the potion,” Vadimas responded.
“But not impossible and you know it might be helpful in other situations,” Delaney interjected.
“Yeah, like when you wake up and your mate wants to kiss you, but you just know your mouth tastes like fucking sewage,” Rafe commented.
“You do realize, Your Highness, that in your scenario, a regular mint would be just as handy,” Vadimas pointed out.
Rafe elbowed Aleksander. “Get some mints.”
“I’ll fill your entire bedside drawer with them if you stop folding the laundry.”
“Wait just a second,” Brogan boomed out and all discussion in the room ceased. “Did I just hear Aleksander request that his mate not help with the laundry? What’s wrong with you? Who doesn’t want help with that? Doing laundry is horrible.”
“It’s not that bad,” Dra’Kaedan argued.
“I’m the one that usually winds up doing it, so how would you know?” Brogan demanded.
“That’s because you don’t trust cleansing spells like some kind of medieval dragon.”
“I was born in 1268, what the fuck do you expect?”
“Adapt!”
Renny laid his head on the table. “There they go,” he muttered to the wooden surface. “Fate, please bring me someone who doesn’t want to argue constantly.”
Dra’Kaedan pushed Renny’s shoulder. “I want your mate here already.”
“Obviously, me too,” Brogan responded with a huff. “Aleksander. The laundry. I must know what’s wrong with you.”
“According to His Highness, I lack the ability to fold itproperly,” Rafe remarked.
“You get stranger every day, Bigfoot,” Dra’Kaedan drawled.
