“Are you okay?” she asked.
He jerked away, landing hard on his backside and staring at her with wide eyes—amber eyes that went perfectly with his short, raven-black hair. As he moved, he grabbed her coat, draping it over his lap to cover himself.
His lips were full, his eyebrows dark slashes above his eyes. He had a strong jawline, too, matching his physique. There was a haunted quality to his eyes that drew her in.
“It’s okay.” She held out her hands in a calming gesture.
She realized she was still holding the spatula. They both stared at it. Could he think it was a weapon? She tossed it away, just in case.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said.
He swallowed hard. She could see his throat work. Then he licked those lush lips.
Her heart beat hard against her ribs and her mind reeled, wondering what his first words to her would be. She leaned forward as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Are you insane?” he said.
3
The Earthling’s dark eyebrows rose above the thick-framed lenses she wore. The frames sat on her face a bit crooked.
Her lips parted and closed repeatedly. Serac tried not to focus on them. It was more challenging than it should have been. They looked soft and warm.
Everything about her looked soft and warm—from her large, forest-green eyes, to the immense boots she wore.
He knew her hands were soft and warm. Waking up to her gentle touch had been…pleasant. His zyln urged him to reach for her hands and hold them.
He refused.
“Excuse me?” she said.
“Why?”
She blinked a few times. “What?”
“What are you asking me to excuse?”
“I’m not…” She let out an exasperated sound, then straightened the frame of her lenses. “I’m not insane!”
“You intervened in my battle. With a stick.”
“It was a broom. And if I’d known I was running into a fight between a fairy and a shifter, I would have brought silver or iron or something.”
He felt like the gravity in the room had suddenly reversed, his stomach lurching. Even his zyln stilled within.
She knew what he was? Or, perhaps she was referring to Dean as the shifter and thought that Serac was…whatever a fairy was. Either way, why in the name of the Frozen Clans wasn’t she terrified?
“Because she is brave,” his zyln thought.
No one could be that brave. Could they?
“Why does she think silver would be better than a stick?”
His zyln paused for a moment before thinking, “Brave and…confused.”
This Earthling filled Serac’s mind with questions. It was unsettling.
“You’re not afraid of me?” Serac said.
Her expression softened. “No, I’m not afraid.”
“And you know what I am?” His heart pounded and his mouth went dry. Strangely, how she answered was important to him. He tried to shake off the feeling, but his zyln was sitting up within him, intently focused on her response.
“I do,” she said. “You’re a werewolf.”
“A what wolf?” his zyln thought.
“A what wolf?” he asked their question out loud.
He knew the latter part of the word—which made sense, given his zyln’s form. Serac had been warned about the Earth lifeforms that his other form resembled before setting off on his mission. But he didn’t understand the “where” part. Did it have something to do with translocation?
“A werewolf,” she repeated.
“I’m not familiar with that word.” It seemed impossible that Earthlings could know what the Centaurans were—what they could do.
“You’re a person who can turn into a wolf.”
And there was the impossible, staring at him from a beautiful face through thick lenses.
“You aren’t supposed to know about me,” he said.
She smiled, ducking her head, then started to laugh. His cheeks tugged, his mouth twitching as if it wanted to smile back. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such a thing. His breath stilled within his chest.
“Stop it,” she said, looking off to the side and lifting her shoulders up to her ears. “That tickles.”
His mirth fled. What was she talking about?
She reached up under her hair and pulled out Payback, the parcel Serac’s captain, Hank, had instructed him to deliver to Earth as part of his assignment. It was meant as a gift for Hank’s newest sibling. Serac had instructed the parcel to remain on his ship.
“How did you get here?” Serac snapped.
Payback stuck his tongue out at Serac, then rolled over so that the Earthling had better access to his stomach. Whatever she was doing, the parcel seemed to be enjoying it immensely. He shifted through mellow blues and happy pinks before settling into his natural magenta shade, glowing softly.
“He’s beautiful,” the Earthling said. “What’s his name?” Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask.”
“For his name?” Did names have more significance on Earth than Serac realized?
“You may have his name,” Serac said. “It’s Payback.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I was happy to help.”
Again, he had no idea what she was talking about. She was utterly baffling.
And utterly fascinating.
To be as clear as possible, he said, “The parcel’s name is Payback.”
The Earthling looked around them, then leaned closer. “What parcel?”
Serac sucked in a breath, desiring to yell or howl or…something. He wanted to throw open the door, shift into his other form, and go for a long run in the deep snow that covered the surrounding lands. Perhaps that would clear his head.
And yet, the idea of leaving this Earthling behind unsettled him.
“We must stay with her,” his zyln thought. “We must protect her.”
The air around them shimmered and her breath came out as puffs of fog. She shivered, pulling Payback closer to her chest as if to warm him.
At least she didn’t know that much. Parcels were from the icy Lyrian homeworld—one of the few inhabited planets even colder than Centaurus-10.
Perhaps that was why Serac was so unnerved by her presence. She seemed to know so much more about him than she should.
Slowly releasing his breath, he calmed himself again. The air warmed around them.
“The creature in your lap is called a parcel,” Serac said. “His name is Payback.”
“Oh,” she said. Her eyes widened again and she nodded. “Ohhhhh.”
The parcel let out a cooing trill, then closed his eyes. His antennae drooped, and a soft hum sounded with each breath.
He was asleep.
That was not good.
“He has chosen her,” his zyln thought.
“What’s wrong?” The Earthling was watching Serac’s face with keen interest. Part of him warmed at the thought. Another questioned her motives.
“Parcels do not trust lightly,” he said.
“Well, maybe this one just has good taste.” She smiled at him, and he felt it like a thump to his chest.
“He trusts you,” Serac said.