Misty’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know that?”
“I was there. The Fae bastard kept trying to get you to drink the water, and to give it to me.”
“And the wolf cubs stopped me.”
“Then you all jumped on me.” Graham let out a growl. “Had to wash all the spit off my face when I woke up. They were licking me for real.”
“This can’t be right. How did we share a dream?”
“Because Fae magic is messed up. I saw the ice coming for you. I was afraid . . .”
Graham’s fingers clamped down on her shoulders, and the lines around his eyes tightened. Misty saw the fear in him, stark and real, which he strove to cover.
“I’m all right,” Misty said, softening her voice. “Xav woke me up, and it all went away.”
Graham’s fingers tightened more, his anger returning to drive out the fear. “Xav woke you? What the hell was Xav doing with you while you were asleep?” His glare shot to Xavier, who stood without flinching.
“Guarding me,” Misty said. “What did you think?”
Graham’s growl increased, his eyes turning very light gray. He said nothing, only fixed his wolf stare on Xav.
“Keep it cool,” Xavier said, unruffled. “I’m not a shithead who takes advantage of a lady in distress.”
“The points to focus on,” Reid broke in firmly, “are the shared dream, the Fae spell, and how to break it.”
Misty shrugged out of Graham’s grasp, much as she liked the comfort of his touch, even when he dug in. “That’s what you made me remember, Reid—I’d found a book of magic spells involving flowers. I thought it was just nonsense, but now I’m willing to give the rose spell a try.” Anything to break this thirst. She looked down at the boys, who were still clinging to Graham, being quieter than she’d ever seen them. “Thank you, Matt and Kyle, for helping.” She glanced back up at Graham. “Were you all taking a nap?”
“I was walking across Shiftertown to take them to the bears,” Graham said. “I woke up flat on my ass in the dirt, with two wolf cubs licking my face all over. Little shits.”
Both boys grinned. Their faces were dirty, their T-shirts crooked, as though someone—probably Graham—had dressed them in a hurry. One boy had hair a lighter shade of brown than the other; one had brown eyes and one hazel. A way to tell them apart, Misty thought, as soon as she figured out which was which.
Misty leaned to them, her long T-shirt hanging to her knees. “You two want some ice cream?”
“Ice cream!” The boys released Graham at the same moment and hurtled toward the kitchen.
“No shifting!” Graham bellowed after them. “They don’t need any more food, Misty. They already ate everything in my fridge. Don’t know why they haven’t gotten sick yet.”
“Energy,” Xav said. “Diego and I gobbled down everything in sight when we were kids. Still do.” He grinned.
Misty ducked back into her bedroom to change into a pair of shorts and a tank top. By the time she emerged, the three men had gone into the kitchen after the cubs. Reid was sitting at the table going through the book, Xav leaned on the counter near the back door, and Matt and Kyle had planted themselves in front of the refrigerator door, eyeing it longingly. Graham, behind them, had obviously told them not to open it.
“Come on, sweeties.” Misty took down bowls, fetched chocolate-vanilla swirl ice cream from the freezer, and spooned it into bowls. After observing the frozen chunks of chocolaty vanilla cream, icy in the bowls, Misty scooped out a helping for herself.
“Xav?” she offered. “Reid? Want any?”
Reid held up a hand without looking away from the book. Xav shook his head, giving her a small smile. “Not while I’m on duty.”
Graham didn’t respond as Misty carried the bowls to the table, sat the little boys down, and gave them spoons. The two boys stared at the spoons, mystified, then lifted the bowls, and started licking the ice cream out of them.
“Hey!” Graham roared. “Be civilized.”
“Don’t yell at them.” Misty sat down across the table from Reid and lifted her spoon. “Maybe they don’t know. Like this.”
Misty demonstrated how to hold the spoon and dip it into the ice cream, then she scooped some into her mouth. Frozen goodness coated her tongue, momentarily easing her constant thirst. Would be great if she could cure herself with ice cream.
As soon as she swallowed, the thirst came back, so she shoveled in more ice cream.
Kyle and Matt watched her, wide-eyed. “You can eat faster our way,” one of them—Kyle?—said.
Misty wanted to. She could lift the bowl to her mouth and take all its contents in one gulp. The only reason she didn’t was because Graham had sat down next to her and was watching her closely.
His gaze flicked to the spoon as she dipped it into the cream then followed it back to her mouth. He fixed on her lips as the ice cream went in, dropped to her throat as she swallowed, then returned to her lips, where a bit of cream lingered.
When Graham looked at her fully, Misty stilled, caught by eyes that held heat like silver fire. A shudder worked its way through her, besting even the thirst that popped back up as soon as she stopped eating.
Quench it with Graham . . .
The thought made her shake. Misty dug her spoon through the bowl, slowly lifting another scoop of cream. The ice cream was starting to melt now, its chocolate-stained vanilla droplets falling back into the bowl.
She lifted the spoon to her mouth. Graham’s gaze fixed on her even tighter. Misty moved her tongue out and licked up a dollop from her spoon.
A growl sounded in Graham’s throat, one so soft Misty knew only she could hear it. She took another lick of cream from the spoon. Graham sat so still he might have been carved into the chair, but his chest rose and fell sharply.
His face held the hardness of a man who’d survived on his strength alone for a long time, but Misty had always seen something in him besides the hardness. The tiny lines that feathered from the corners of his eyes, for example. He got them from laughing—Graham was a man not afraid to laugh. He could roar with it. Scars crisscrossed his cheekbones, and his nose had been broken, several times, he’d told her. His face was sunburned from their adventure today, but even that was healing, his skin settling into its usual liquid tan.
The sun-bronzing made his eyes stand out even more, the gray turning to silver as he watched her lick another bit of ice cream. She moved her tongue around the mound on the spoon and drew it back between her lips . . .