Page 39 of The Goblin in the Sink Drain
Bits and pieces of arguments between Rían, Liam, and Fayne were starting to clump together in my mind in a way that convinced me there was more on the line here than reclaiming a lost dragon. They weren’t telling me everything. There was more, some connection between Rían and me causing Fayne and Liam anxiety.
Maybe the timing of the Walsh clan’s arrival was more than simply locking on to my location after all these years. Maybe I was missing some critical something that put the worry in their eyes and the razors on their tongues. Maybe I ought to test Rían’s promise that he would tell me anything if I asked him.
“Can you handle a naked Ana? We could save some time if I unraveled her now?—”
Brakes squealed as the SUV veered into oncoming traffic, and I tumbled against the door with a thump. I could only imagine the mice went for the same wild ride as me.
“Ana?” He craned his neck to see me, his gaze frantic. “Are you okay?”
“She won’t be if you don’t keep your eyes on the road.” Fayne exhaled. “I want to get where we’re going in one piece, and your protective instincts are going to drive us right into a ditch. Pull over, and we’ll swap. That ought to calm your beast.”
Rían waited for an opening, an empty driveway, and did just that. He leaned over, collecting the mice from the floorboard and placing them gently on the seat, then got out. He shucked his tee over his head and passed it to Fayne, who wore it like a shirtdress. She even tied a knot on one hip that made the outfit seem intentional. Fashionable. But I had trouble admiring her style when Rían slid in next to me.
Shirtless.
Good God.
The legs were bad enough, but his torso was…and the abs…and his pecs…and…and…
There were all thesemuscles. I had seen plenty of naked shifters. Tons of them. Shifters made up for any lack in beauty with brawn. Physical perfection was the norm. But Rían? Perfect wasn’t enough. Even the crosshatching scars marring every visible inch of his skin failed to detract from the big picture. And it was averybig picture from my point of view.
“Her breaths are choppy.” He lifted me onto his lap, running his hands over every part of me. “Do you think she hit her head?”
“That’s not why she’s panting.” Fayne snickered, her eyes on me in the rearview mirror. “She must not have seen you shirtless until now. That’s what’s making her tiny heart race.”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat and returned me to the seat beside him. “Better?”
Hard to manage with a nose this long, but I planted my forehead on the seat and pretended to sleep at the unnatural angle the entire way to Pampered Pooches.
For our protection, Rían posted up outside the employees’ bathroom while Fayne unraveled her magic. I was too relieved to be back on two legs to complain about giving her a free show. I was lucky there were plenty of scrubs in a neat stack on the dryer, so I had fresh clothes to wear. No bra or panties, but after almost hyperventilating upon my first glimpse of a half-naked Rían, things could only go up from here.
While I was finger-combing my hair, Fayne went to unravel the employees. She left the door open, but Rían didn’t invite himself in. He was good about marking boundaries. That was a big point in his favor.
However, he did lean against the doorframe, his attention on my movements. “How’s your arm?”
Unsurprised by his consideration, I slid my gaze to meet his in the mirror. “See for yourself.”
Damn it. That wasn’t supposed to come out breathy or flirty. But he still wasn’t wearing a shirt. None of the scrubs would fit him. There was no point even trying. I needed to talk Fayne into a pair so she would give him back his tee and me back my peace of mind.
Accepting my invitation, Rían entered the bathroom and reached for my hand. Using it to lift my arm, he inspected the smooth skin and tested the firm muscles beneath with gentle fingers. I had to shove down the same urge from before to lean into his touch.Down girl.One afternoon as a dachshund wasn’t going to keep excusing my needy behavior much longer.
“Incredible,” he breathed, his caress making it hard to cling to my resolve.
One thing was for certain. I had been too sheltered, no, more like isolated, to handle the complex tangle of emotions that tripped me up every time he put his hands on me. His touch short-circuited my brain, and that was dangerous when I needed to keep my wits about me. “This was her plan all along, wasn’t it? To use her magic in a roundabout way to heal me?”
Arms side by side from wrists to elbows, you would notice a difference in muscle mass, but it was slight compared to the emaciated appearance prior to my transformations.
“With Fayne, there are always plans within plans within plans. Liam isn’t quite as bad, yet, but he will be. One day. Fayne probably figured if the transformation magic worked the same on you as your own shift, good. She could rub it in my face that, yes, she had disobeyed me but healed you in the process. And, if it didn’t, then she would have never owned up to it and accepted her well-deserved scolding from me.”
Chills broke along my skin as he continued tracing the line of my arm. “But how?”
The injury had been more severe than I could have healed on my own. A big reason that shifters could mend so much damage to themselves was in how their muscles and bones twisted and stretched during their transformations. That action, repeated over and over, created healthy new muscle, bone, and skin. Longevity and a more youthful appearance were also benefits of their constant regeneration.
And that was during the course of a typical shift.
Mix in injuries, and their enhanced healing shot through the roof. Latents had impressive recuperative abilities, or I wouldn’t have survived adolescence, but I lacked a true shifter’s remarkable capacity for mending catastrophic wounds.
“Fayne’s magic is too nuanced for me to explain properly. I don’t fully understand the mechanics. But it’s more than just an illusion. It’s a physical transformation too.”
