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It seemed nauseatingly cliché to say that her life had changed because of Anzan, that being in love and being loved in return made her better, simply by virtue of no longer being completely alone, but she was different.
He saw her exactly as she was, and the act of being seen made her feel more substantial. Less afraid to take up space in the world, and the substantiality made her more certain of her place in it.
“Well. I’ll warn you now, this is not a happy story. Most fairy tales aren’t. Have you noticed that? They’re meant to teach and to warn. Mothers die and children are eaten. A happy ending is not required, only that you’re warned away from some danger.”
The dark moon was a time of renewal. New projects, new plans, new resolutions. Tomorrow, she would need to address the Holt issue. Tomorrow she would need to send him off for good, to remind him that Willow was gone, that there was nothing left here for him. Tomorrow. Tonight, she was going to sleep like a stone, cradled in her monstrous mate’s arms, after he made her shake apart.
For the first time in more than a week, nothing shot out of the bushes or slinked around the house, attempting to slip in behind her. He was not there on the garden wall, nor was he sitting on the low roof. The cat was nowhere to be found. Of course. Because why would you ever count on a cat to do what you want.
“Is that her?” “I think it is! Can you believe it? She’s such an unassuming little thing.” “It’s always the quiet ones.”
ALWAYS THE QUIET ONES WHO HAVE A WEIRD FETISH LIKE FUCKING SPIDERS
“No matter where you go or how isolated you may feel, no matter if your coven is large and well-funded or if you are forced to practice alone, I bid you to hold your head high, sisters. A witch does not walk to the noose with a lowered head and shame in her heart, for she walks with her sisters beside her. From this day forward, your heart beats in time with all those who came before you, and yours will beat with all those who come after.”
“So fight for us with me. I know you think I’m the brave one, but I can’t do this without you. I want you to bring your goddess damned coffee machine downstairs, and I want you to come down sixteen times a day to get your caffeine fix like you always did. Understand? Tonight we’re going for our walk, and I don’t ever want you to assume that I don’t want you around again. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Are you reading everyone’s mail?!” “Oh, I love him.“ Holt crowed from his perch on the counter, ignoring her venomous look. “He’s officially my favorite.”
“Well, cat man? Have I passed your test?” Holt slid from the counter, still laughing, uncowed by the way Anzan towered over him. “That depends, I think. Do you love her?” She wasn’t expecting the question. Ladybug swayed, holding her breath, waiting for Anzan to answer. “I do.” His voice was solemn and his face unsmiling. “With everything I have in me.”
Nothing set her teeth on edge like a hundreds-year-old near-immortal chasing after human teenagers, simply because they were able to project an aura of youth to conceal their decrepit hearts.
lmao finally someone said it
“I’m going to say this as nicely as I can — fix your face. Because you literally look like you’re shitting yourself.”
“ . . . I don’t actually have a mailing list. Not in the way you’re thinking.” “No, I’m sure your version has a feather quill and a centaur trotting along with the delivery sack for saddlebags, but I’ve already taken care of it.”
It is intent that guides magic, Ladybug. A witch’s intent is more important than the strength of her spell. She had chosen to be a healer, and helping him through this heat was her job. Your job as his mate.
“The gift of being permitted to pleasure you is one I shall cherish as long as there is breath within me.” Anzan’s voice was a reverent murmur above her, feeling the points of his talons bite at her hips as he gripped her. “There is no other male from my clan who has ever enjoyed such a giving mate, such a dedicated healer, upholding her family name with honor.”
“Did-did you just pull out a strawberry-flavored coochie cream like it’s no big deal?”
“Millie is across the street,” she murmured in a low voice. “They’re all sitting on the porch watching. They’re probably on the phone with the mayor right now, telling him I’m building a spider army.” Holt snorted. “Good. I’m going to go over there later and piss on her door. Maybe leave a hairball on the hood of her car.”
“It turned out to be a beautiful night,” she sighed, relieved that they were not being rained on. “I used to love this night, once. Maybe I will again after this.” “It is always night in her majesty’s forest. Company’s coming.”
IT IS ALWAYS NIGHT IN HER MAJESTY'S FORESTTTTTTTTT
“I will fight for you until my last breath, my Ladybug. A life without your love is not one I’m interested in living. But in an effort to prevent the bloodshed of your neighbors . . . yes. This is how I am fighting for us. For now.”
