Page 68 of Eat. Prey. Love.

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Page 68 of Eat. Prey. Love.

“Statues who have remained silent gatekeepers of the past for as long as I have are loath to speak about failures,” I murmur as I coast past the easternmost edge of the forest. “But I cannot stand guard for my kind any longer. My family needs to understand how I know so much about our enemies.”

But not tonight—tonight, we will all show our fated mate, the girl we were all waiting for, how loved and adored she is. It might not be in the sappy, Hallmark way humans would, but she will adore our plans. Together, we’ll make Dolly feel all the love she’s been denied in the past and she’ll carry it with her whenever these assholes try to tear her down again.

Which they will… but not tonight.

Moonlight filters through the canopy,casting silver shadows over the forest clearing. I perch on a branch high above, my onyx black skin almost indistinguishable from the velvety night. Below, Fitz and Felix, who only manage to work together this well when it’s regarding our girl, guide Dolly through the underbrush with hushed tones of excitement.

“Come on, Baby Girl! You’re gonna looooove this shit. Promise.”

Dolly’s soft laugh dances through the air as she holds onto them for balance. “Whatever it is, I hope it’s worth almost breaking my neck trying to pull a Skywalker in a dark forest, oh Master Yoda.”

“Noicereference, babe,” Fitz says and Felix sighs heavily.

I had no idea how much a ridiculously mismatched family could fill my cup, as the humans say, until our bunny came along.

The clearing I chose is aglow with an ethereal luminescence that only the night can afford, and it’s here we’ve laid out our Valentine’s ambush for Dolly. My heart is pounding with anticipation—both for her reaction and the after dinner activity I’ve planned for us all.

“Are we there yet?” Dolly’s voice dances up to me, light and melodic, betraying her eagerness. Her loose cotton capri pants brush against the foliage, and the slip-on shoes she wears make soft sounds against the earth—a stark contrast to her typical combat boots she stomps around in at l’Academie.

The moon acts as a spotlight, illuminating the vibrant ombre rainbow strands of her hair, making them shimmer like a kaleidoscope come to life. She’s a vision, even in her casual attire; the crop top she made from Fitz’s tee shirt allows glimpses of skin that I know all too well, smooth and warm to the touch.

“Almost,” Fitz teases, his voice a low rumble of contained delight. “Keep those pretty eyes covered a little longer.”

I watch from my vantage point as they reach the edge of the clearing. My gaze is drawn to Dolly’s hands, fidgeting slightly with the hem ofthe blindfold, her fingers betraying the only sign of her impatience. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes about her playful nature—one of the many facets of her character that we’ve all come to adore.

The fact that she trusts us this much after the bullshit her ex pulled makes my poetic nature want to explode with verse—and it is the night for it.

“Patience is a virtue, Princess,” Felix chides gently, though I can tell by the way his voice carries that he’s smiling, probably wearing that smug grin that makes you want to punch him and hug him at the same time.

“Virtue, schmirtue. I wantfood, buddy,” she retorts, but the giggle that follows is pure Dolly—unfettered and genuine.

They’re close now, steps away from the blanket we spread earlier, a large blanket splayed out earlier in the night for our feast. Tonight is about more than just food and drink, though. It’s about the connection that binds us, the shared affection we have for the woman who somehow brought us all together.

“Okay, stop here,” Fitz instructs, as they reach her designated spot in the middle of the setup.

I silently leap down from my perch, landing with a Giselle that belies my statuesque form. The moment has come for the big reveal, and I can feel the energy of the night converging upon us, a silent witness to our peculiar courtship ritual.

“Ready?” Felix asks, his fingers ready to unveil the surprise.

“More than you know,” Dolly replies, and I can almost hear the smile in her voice.

With a flourish, Fitz and Felix remove the blindfold, and Dolly blinks against the sudden glow of the moonlit forest. Her eyes adjust, and then widen with delight. In this moment, with her joy so palpable, I’m reminded why we’ve gone to such lengths—for the love of Dolly, our unexpected muse, our Valentine.

Aubrey ambles up beside me, his dragon forced to stay in his human guise for the occasion. The grin on his face is as wide as the wings he’ll spread later. Despite the humor on his face being a rare sight when not nestled among leather-bound tomes and ancient manuscripts, tonight he’s eager to show our bunny how much he loves her. His hands, usually reserved for flipping through pages with delicate care, now grip a wicker handle firmly. The picnic basket dangles from his grasp, its contents a mystery that only Chess knows. My mate’s excitement is a tangible thing, wrapping around us like a warm shroud, and his eyes—those deep pools of knowledge—sparkle with pride over the moonlit soirée we’ve orchestrated.

“Brilliant, love,” he rumbles in a voice that could easily be mistaken for the starting notes of a symphony, the timbre rich and comforting. “Under the stars, surrounded by nature’s embrace—it’s perfect.”

As I nod my acknowledgement, Chess approaches, each step an exercise in balance and poise. I can’t help but marvel at how his cheetah agility bears the weight of two coolers brimming with frosty beverages and treats. He maneuvers with feline Giselle, though the coolers swing like pendulums, testing his lithe strength. His expression is one of determined focus, which belies an underlying playfulness—like a cub pretending to be a full-grown hunter. It’s a look that says he would shoulder any burden, no matter how heavy, to see Dolly smile.

And I know he would—just as he would for Fitz.

“Be careful, Chester,” I call out, my voice a low rumble that dances with the night breeze. “The last thing we need is you spraining something before the main event.”

He flashes a quick, toothy grin, his golden eyes catching the light as if they hold their own fragment of the moon within them.

“No chance, Ren. I’m all in for this,” he says as he adjusts the straps of the coolers with a nimble twitch of his shoulders.Chess lowers the coolers to the earth, his slender muscles flexing beneath his fur, while I watch over Dolly carefully.

“Almost ready,ma petite,” I assure her, my voice a thrum of excitement that matches her own.




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