Page 116 of My Monster's Keeper
“Which is it?” Wilder asks.
“Frost took his food and ran away again.”
Stix and Wilder exchange a silent conversation with each other.
I go to where I can see them. “What is this? What is going on here?”
Stix puts his elbow on the table and puts his chin in his hand. “Wilder and I are lovers. Though to be fair, Frost and I are, too.”
“Are you?” Wilder asks in surprise.
“Yes, is that okay?” Stix says back.
“I mean, yeah. I’m just surprised.”
I look between them, my frown getting deeper and darker.
“Yeah, fine, I don’t care about that. But why are you two keeping secrets about Frost?” I hiss.
“You don’t care that I took another lover?” Wilder growls. “I’m offended.”
“Me, too,” Stix glowers at me. “Is that what we mean to you?”
“Stop it. I was there when you both started this. If I had an issue with it, I would have said something, further, stop trying to get me to be upset about it,” I growl, “what is wrong with Frost?”
“I just told you that I’m going to make the Lord of the Hunt my bitch, and you don’t even blink an eye!” Stix throws his hands in the air dramatically.
I glare at Stix. “I was there that night. I do remember very clearly what happened. It was sexy. It was attractive. I don’t care if you guys are with each other, but if you bring anyone else in, I will kill them. Slowly. Painfully. Without mercy. Diablos will help me. It has been discussed.”
Stix and Wilder exchange another look and sit back with twin smiles of satisfaction on their lips.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” I almost howl. “Answer my question!”
“Frost has probably never had anyone give him a meal is the more immediate answer. But think about who he is, love. He burns, and he freezes. He can’t touch you the way you want him to.”
I stiffen, hearing the words but dismissing them. “Crap.”
“Excuse me?” Wilder growls.
“He’s mine. He can touch me. He’s just being an idiot. We’re mates, aren’t we?” I sniff and decide to leave the two to their madness.
It takes me a while to find Frost. He’s found a way to get up into the attic, and he’s hidden up there in the dark. I struggle with a ladder, ignoring my three mates who are leaning against the wall watching me.
“You could help,” I growl at Puppy.
He flicks his tail out and makes the ladder wobble. “I shall catch you when you fall from this death contraption. You’ll suffer no splintered bones on this morning.” His head whips around to stare at the front of the house. “What do you do here, Feline!” he shouts. “I warned you!”
I watch, torn between amusement and concern for the cat as Puppy races out of the hallway and throws himself through the window. I return my gaze to the ladder, refusing to acknowledge that I now have to call Diablos for yet another window. How many times do I have to explain to Puppy that you need to use doors?
I drag myself higher and finally get into the roof. The whole interior looks like it came out of a freezer. I pull myself up and look past the shining white piles of things that are now just useless hunks of frozen obstacles.
It’s beautiful, though. I run my fingers over a particularly square box. It’s cold and my fingers come around red.
“Frost?”
I sense movement and turn in that direction. From deep in the shadows, I make out my prince sitting cross-legged on the floor, lifting the last stand of spaghetti to his mouth.
