Chapter 25 - Byron

"Hey."

I wake up, stirring, feeling Olivia in my arms. My body relaxes. My heart beats steadily, slowly, evenly, unbothered. When I look down at her, she's already gazing sleepily back at me, her eyes soft, her face easy.

"Hey," I murmur back, something unlocking in my chest at the sight of her here, with me. Even after everything I told her last night. Even now that she knows, without a doubt, that I'm broken. She knows my fears about being a bad father.

And she told me I'm worthy of love. I tug her up a little closer, kissing the top of her head, breathing her in, and sinking into the feeling of having her nearby.

"We have that meeting," she says, clearing her throat. "In, like, twenty minutes."

"I'll never have time to get my hair done," I murmur, which makes her smile.

"Speaking of your hair," she says, reaching up and tousling it. "Why did you change from blue?"

"I didn't," I laugh, reaching up and touching it, too. It feels like ages ago that Percy was here, helping me try to bleach it. "My body just stopped taking the bleach or the dye."

"That's weird," she says, her brow wrinkling. "You should try again. I miss the blue."

"Noted," I say, nuzzling my head into her neck. When I start to kiss her there, nipping at the skin, she laughs and pushes me away.

"Byron," she says, laughing and tipping her head back. "It is now fifteen minutes until the meeting."

Though there are many, many things I would much rather be doing with Olivia, I pull my body up off the couch, and together, we get ready for the meeting. When we walk in, everyone is sitting around the table.

"Are you the new Percy?" Aris asks, raising his eyebrows and taking a bite from a muffin. There's a box from the bakery on the table, and Percy is sitting smugly, his arms crossed.

"I wasn't even late this time," he says, smirking at me. " And I brought treats."

"Great job, buddy," I say, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You only have to be on time every day for the rest of the day to even out your attendance score."

He pushes me away, laughing, and Aris clears his throat, drawing our attention back to the matter at hand. He runs through the information we have and what we know about the commander, his situation, and the event space in Chicago.

"Olivia and Byron," Aris says, "I'm going to have the two of you running surveillance for the mission. Keep an eye on things, intervene the way you did in Minneapolis if something starts to go wrong."

"You got it," I say, something like pride rising up in my chest. I've won him over—Aris now sees the merit in having someone watching from the skies.

"Rafael is our man on the inside," Aris says, turning to address him. "His goal is to get the commander alone, slip him a powerful sedative Rosa has spent the past few days developing, and get him out of there. We want to bring him back here, to the compound, where we can isolate and question him."

"I've also been working on a truth serum," Rosa supplies, "but the results on that haven't been conclusive."

"Thank you, Rosa," Aris says, "The party starts at eight. The rest of the team will be around the area, using scent-cloaking to keep the commander from scenting us. Rafael will enter the party at eight-thirty—"

"Rafael and Triste will enter the party at eight-thirty," Triste says, breezing into the room and setting what looks like a weekender next to her chair. Rather than her usual mage's robes, she's wearing long black pants and a white blouse, her blond hair in an up-do, elegant jewelry around her wrists and neck.

"Uh," Aris says, glancing at Rafael.

"We've been over this," Rafael says, clearing his throat and looking to Triste. "You have no field training, it's too dangerous to—"

"I'm the person on this team with the most knowledge in curses and magical elements," she says, coolly. "If the man who cursed Olivia is there tonight, I'm coming. Because his next curse may not be a simple condemn you to sleep . It could be condemn you to death ."

"I don't—"

"Aris, I would like to assist during this mission," Triste says, twisting a bracelet around her wrist. "I believe my knowledge and skills will be invaluable. And I assure you, the commander will not recognize me."

Aris looks between the two of them, clearly thinking it over.

"Okay," he says, finally, "given her knowledge of curses and magical warfare, it makes sense for her to accompany you, Rafael."

Rafael nods, but looks tense as he leans back in his seat. Under the table, I feel Olivia take my hand, and it sends warmth through my body. At least she's not going out on this mission, and I don't have to worry about her being in explicit danger.

"We meet at four to leave Rosecreek," Aris says. "Any questions."

"Unrelated," Percy says, "but have you heard anything about the paranormal doctor? I know it's still early in her pregnancy, but Veronica worries about complications. I think she would be more comfortable with a seasoned expert here."

"Understandable," Aris says, nodding. "I've been chatting with him—he's set to arrive in less than a week."

"That's great," Percy says, sitting back, visibly relieved.

"Hopefully, he can assist Veronica in her studies while he's here, as well," Aris says, tapping his pen on the podium and looking around the room. "Alright, anything else?"

We all look back at him silently. Triste and Rafael refuse to look at each other, Bigby looks half-asleep, and Rosa looks like she'd rather be in her lab.

"Great. See you at four, if you're part of the mission."

The meeting disperses, and Olivia holds onto my hand under the table, squeezing my fingers between hers. Having my own little pairing within the group is a new feeling. She drops my hand as we stand up, and I almost find myself wishing we could just hold hands in front of everyone—what would it matter? They all know we're mated anyway.

Olivia climbs into my car, and I feel her eyes on me the entire drive home. The moment the door closes behind us, we're all over each other, walking toward the bedroom, half of our clothes gone the moment the backs of her knees hit the mattress.

I just want her undone, just want to see her hair splayed out over my pillow. I slip my hand into her panties, touch her, listen to her little gasps as she writhes against me, sighing into my shoulder.

It could be me and her forever. It could be this woman and I for the rest of our lives. We could build things together.

Build a family together.

For the first time, that thought doesn't terrify me.

We fall into the bed together, and I'm in the process of undoing her bra when she looks up at me, her eyes shining, her chin soft.

"I love you," she says, all at once, like she's been holding it in for too long.

I feel my heart skip a beat—actually pause for a moment too long—as my brain tries to process that, then there's a loud, urgent knock at the door. In the other room, I hear my computer going wild with alerts—there's motion outside the front door. My phone is buzzing on the bedside table, my watch lighting up on my wrist.

Byron, Bigby sends. Fucking code yellow, man.

Then, suddenly, a wave of rage and anger pushes through the line so strongly that Olivia and I wince, drawing back, and fear floods her face immediately. We're scrambling off the bed, tossing clothes to one another.

What the fuck is going on? I send through the team line.

Get to the pack center , Aris says; at the same time, Percy sends, in feeling more than words: Veronica is gone.