“Stop.”
I did.
“Love,” Randall said after taking a deep breath, “can be an undoing. It can destroy a man.”
“It can,” I agreed. “Or it can lift him up and carry him when things go dark.”
There was a pause. Then, “You are, without a doubt, the biggest idiot that I’ve ever had the misfortune to have met.”
“Hey!”
“I’m being completely serious. How are you even still alive? Forget what I said about you and I being the same. You are this… this gushy—”
“I’m not gushy, what the hell—”
“—sappy little boy who is talking out his ass. You are going to get eaten by a dragon, mark my words. The mated pair is going to take one look at you and snap you in half like a little tenderloin.”
“If they do, the world will end so it doesn’t matter anyway.”
Randall sighed. “Why do I even bother?”
“I ask that about you all the time too,” I said. “Something else we have in common.”
“Can you please keep that I said that to yourself?”
“Absolutely not. I’m telling everyone. Even people I don’t know. I’m going to stop them in the streets and tell them that you basically said that you love me because I’m exactly like you.”
“I didn’t say anything like that—”
“We should probably hug now,” I demanded. “For at least three minutes.” I stood up.
“Don’t you dare,” he warned as he dropped his hands. His eyes narrowed. “If you even remotely think about—godsdammit.”
“Shh,” I whispered from where I was bent over, resting my head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around him, holding on tight. “Just let it happen. It feels so good if you just let it happen. And I know how that sounded, but I was just talking about a hug.”
“Are you done yet?”
“Everyone knows hugs should last at least a minute. It’s only been fifteen seconds. Just let me do this. Has anyone ever told you that you smell like mothballs and cherry-flavored hard candies? You’re my cherry-flavored mothball hard candy—”
“That’s it,” he snarled, shoving me away. He was surprisingly strong for being so old. I almost stumbled directly into the fire but was able to save myself from certain death.
“We should do that more,” I decided.
“We will never do that again,” he said. “You got one, Sam of Wilds. That was it. Try that again and I will magically castrate you.”
“My boys,” I whispered, taking a step back. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try and hug me again.”
I reached down and picked up the Grimoire. One of the pages was bent, and I smoothed it out. A few words caught my eye.
…you are not ready.
“You forgot one thing,” I said, feeling a headache coming on.
“What?” he asked from behind me, sounding grumpy.
&nb