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If this was a fairytale, Brea Robinson had to be both the damsel and the knight, because there was no one left to come for her.
“Give me Netflix and Uber Eats and I could live here and never leave these rooms,” Brea murmured.
Because loneliness was the most dangerous thing in the world. It bred misplaced trust and a belief in things that weren’t what they seemed to be.
“I really need to stop losing consciousness and waking up in strange places.”
“Our dear Loch wanted some peace after that battle, and you, my dear, give him very little peace.”
“Fracking?” He grinned. “Is that a human world for f—” “Stop! I have delicate ears.”
“Ditto, Douchey Loch. See, I can call people things they’d rather I didn’t too.” “Douchey.” He paused for a moment. “I like the sound of that. What does it mean?” She choked on a laugh. “Erm… noble.” He nodded. “Then you may call me by that name if you wish.”
The simple wooden cup frothed with smoke and smelled like a dead moose’s butt.
“I am only here because your dog Lochlan tied me up, took me into battle, and said some very grumpy things.
“If you’re telling me to be a pain in the butt, I can totally do that. It’s basically my personality.
“Are you a healer?” She cracked one eye open. “Because if you are, I could totally do with some drugs right now.”
