Page 39 of Sent To A Fantasy World and Now All the Men Want Me 7

If only the same could be said for the ache in my heart. When I’d offered to keep my distance from Onyx, to stop pursuing him, instead of taking the out, he’d kissed me. It was confusing as hell.

“Good.” Briar brushed a kiss to my temple. “You should take it easy today just as a precaution.”

“Is that an order, Doc?” I snatched hold of the bottom of his tunic, tugging him closer.

“Yes.” He palmed my cheek before tipping my face up. “But only because I love you.”

“I love you too.” I reached up, locked my wrists behind his neck, and brought him down for a kiss. Against his lips, I added, “So much.”

“Yet, it pales in comparison to the love I have for you.” Briar gently tweaked my cheek before drawing back, a smile shining in his hazel eyes. “Where’s our wolf this morning?”

“With Koga in the vegetable garden,” I said. “Oreo went with him. Though, he probably just wants to murder the tomato plant.”

He softly chuckled.

Warmth swirled in my chest at the sound. And a different type of heat swirled in my veins.

Briar looked like a damn snack that morning, wearing a white tunic with the sleeves pushed to his elbows and the top string unfastened, showing a peek of his pale collarbone. And don’t even get me started on his slutty little glasses.

The heavy flap of wings drew my attention to the monster bird haunting the clinic. Orange eyes glowed from within the shadowy corner where Salem sat on his perch watching everyone in the room. A large, sharply pointed beak that was just waiting for its next victim.

“Be mindful of Salem,” Fane had warned. “He’s fond of biting.”

The exact reason why, despite my love for animals, even the ones that probably wanted to eat me, I had kept my butt planted on this stool instead of going over and trying to pet him. The threat of losing my hand overrode the desire to touch his pretty red and gold feathers.

I needed that hand for baking muffins.

“You seem nervous, human.” Phantasia stepped over and petted the bird’s neck, tossing me a smirk over her shoulder. “No reason to fear. Salem will refrain from tearing into your flesh. For today.”

“For today, she says,” I harshly whispered.

Briar offered me a reassuring smile, but as the bird flapped its heavy wings again, that smile faltered and hesitance touched his eyes.

Oh god. Between Salem and Phantasia’s House of Terrors, would I get out of the clinic in one piece? I wasn’t too confident. Felt like if I breathed wrong, Salem would go in for the kill.

My obituary would read: Evan Clark passed away in the early hours of Wednesday morning. Got mauled by a sadistic bird. He’s survived by his harem of hotties and their son, Oreo.

Salem made a squawking sound that caused every hair on my arms and legs to stand on end. Images flashed through my mind of him lunging from his perch, wings spread and murder in his eyes. I wouldn’t stand a chance.

“You know? Phantasia has her hands full. I’ll come back later.” I hopped down from the stool, taking that squawk as my cue to leave. “Might get a start on all that relaxation. Somewhere in the bright sunshine. Maybe in the quaint little courtyard all the way on the other side of the castle.”

Far, far away from the buzzard-sized sadistic bird that likes biting people.

“Sit back down, human,” Phantasia told me in a no-nonsense tone. “Lord Onyx requested my assistance, and I have no intentions on going back on my word. I need to examine you.”

“Um. Examine me?” My ass crashed back into the seat. Right then, she scared me a lot more than the murderous bird. “For what?”

“Now that your powers have awoken, I need to assess your mana levels,” Phantasia answered as she went over to the crafting table along the wall.

“How much did Lord Onyx tell you?” Briar asked, the skin tight at the corners of his hazel eyes. “Do you know the type of power Evan wields?”

“Aye.” Phantasia ground something down into a fine powder. “He is the Hallowed Saint. A child born from both light and dark.”

“This doesn’t surprise you?” Briar asked her, his expression pensive. “There have only been five other saints in known history, yet you speak of his power so casually.”

“Because he is not the first I’ve met,” she coolly responded. “I lived during the reign of the one before him.”

“You met Saint Vera?” I asked.