Page 35 of Foundling

Hands, lizard.

Scowling behind his closed lids, he lifted both hands to show the unicorn before replacing them on Leita’s head and shoulder.

Slinky soon climbed up to curl in the crook of his neck. Thalia nickered in disgust.

You will wash that thing tomorrow if you don’t want it eaten.

So many demands, he replied, too tired to say it aloud.

Still, should the rain continue, it might not be a bad idea. Though she’d groomed herself several times, poor Slinky still smelled of smoke—more noticeably now that he himself didn’t. Still, he wouldn’t betray her in front of the unicorn, not when Slinky was his one ally here.

Goodnight, Moonchaser, he muttered.

Goodnight, lizard.

9

Attalus woke from one of the most pleasant sleeps of his life with a smile on his face. Not even his sore hip or cricked neck could ruin the pleasure of waking to a warm, soft mate in his arms.

Lids flickering open, Attalus beheld how she’d tucked herself tightly to him in her sleep. Starlit head under his chin and legs tangled with his, Leita had indeed made herself comfortable.

His throat began to rumble with a gentle croon, his fingers straying to card through her silky hair. Gods, it shouldn’t be right for someone to be so soft. He didn’t even have her naked against him, yet he could feel every inch of her and knew it’d be the pleasure of his life to touch her everywhere.

Unable to resist, Attalus bent to kiss the top of her head.

An inhale perked his ears, and he drew back to find her sapphire eyes fluttering blearily. He smiled to see her looking so sleepy and rumpled; it almost made her seem—

Within a blink, clarity returned to her gaze. A startled gasp escaped her, and she clapped both hands on his chest and pushed him away.

“And good morning to you, too, agae,” he sighed as he rolled onto his back.

He bit back another smile watching her struggle to get free of the blanket. More than a few choice curses fell from her lips before she jumped up, staggering a few steps away before catching her balance.

He wasn’t surprised when both Leita and Thalia turned glares on him.

Attalus just sat up on his hands and stretched out his legs, allowing her to admire the full length of his body.

Leita made a sound of disgust as she spun away.

I told you, said the unicorn sourly.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked Leita instead. “You worried me, fainting like that into my arms.”

“I didn’t faint, I…” She threw another glare at him over her shoulder. “I’m going into town. Stay here.”

“It’s still raining,” he noted. “And what town?”

“I can see that.” Lifting her hand, Leita stepped out into the rain—only for the droplets to slide away in an arc around her, as though she carried some invisible barrier over her head. “Thalia.”

With a huff, the mare got to her hooves, flapped her lips at him, and marched from the cave.

“What town?” he called after them.

But they left without another word and certainly no explanation.

Attalus blinked down at Slinky, bewildered. Was it bad to think he already missed sleeping Leita?

Sighing, he climbed to his feet. Somehow sensing his intent, Slinky yelped and tried to run away, but Attalus was faster. With a hold of her wriggling body, he took her and the soap cake to the edge of the cave and plunged both into the rain.