Page 52 of Falling for the Felid
He’s going to fit in just fine here.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ari
Felix’s familyis like one of those oversized throw blankets that you get tangled in while watching movies. They’re warm and cozy and generally wonderful but can easily take over any situation until you’re not sure if you’re being wrapped in a hug or smothered. One thing’s for sure: It’s not easy to get away.
And I absolutely love it.
Them. I mean them. The people, not the blanket.
Dinner is a loud affair, with multiple conversations taking place simultaneously, often crisscrossing over the table. There are enormous amounts of food to satisfy shifter appetites (all of it good, which Felix explains in a barely audible whisper is because his dad wasn’t allowed to help), and even when arguments break out—and they do—they’re good-natured and over quickly. I’ve never experienced anything like it.
It’s been literally thousands of years since I ate a meal with my family, and it was nothing like this. Cold formality was the order of the day, and conversation was either polite chitchat that conformed to particular political views, or lengthy lectures about all the things wrong with the world, the king, society at large, and me. Sometimes my brother, but mostly me, since I frequently made the mistake of having an opinion. They weren’teven opinions that differed from my parents’, since at the time I lacked the ability to think for myself.
After I left, there was never an opportunity to attend a family dinner. Army life in the time of the anomalies was a cycle of constant deployments and missions as communities were torn apart and we saved as many as we could while struggling to find a solution—a way out. Even if someone had invited me to eat with their family, I would have found a way to decline politely. It took a long time for me to truly understand that not all families are as fucked-up as mine was.
“So, Ari,” Felix’s mother, who’s sitting on my left, begins, “What is it exactly that you do for the DEA? Fe said you’re on loan to the Warhammers, but he’s been stingy with the details.”
The sudden silence that falls has me glancing around for any sudden danger. Have the felids heard something that my elf ears couldn’t quite catch?
But nobody looks concerned, just… focused. On me.
I clear my throat. “I’m assigned to the king’s personal security team. My specialty is risk assessment and mitigation.”
“Oh.” Shayla flicks a look at her son, seemingly taken aback. “I thought you worked for marketing or something like that. Why would a security expert be assigned to the Warhammers?”
“Uh…” It’s my turn to look at Felix, who’s carefully studying his plate. I don’t know how much he’s told his family, and this could get… complicated. “The PR team at the DEA is overallocated at the moment, and since I was already familiar with the team, his majesty and Eoin—my boss—decided I’d be the best fit for a temporary assignment. Public Relations will take over as soon as someone is free.”
I’m congratulating myself on that very smooth answer when one of the brothers—the younger one, I think—asks, “Why were you familiar with the team?”
“The king did some promotional appearances with them earlier this year, and I was assigned to his security.” I move my leg under the table to jostle Felix’s. He needs to help me before I accidentally say the wrong thing.
“Do you work with the king of the elves a lot?” Riley, Felix’s nephew, asks. He’s holding his fork in one hand but appears to have forgotten about it. “Are you supposed to, like, take a bullet for him?”
“Riley,” his mother chides, but I’m grateful for the change of subject.
“I would, but if a bullet gets close enough to him that I need to ‘take it,’ I’ve failed at my job,” I inform him gravely, and his face lights up in a grin.
“Your job might be cooler than Uncle Felix’s.”
“Hey!” Felix shakes a finger at his nephew. “Remember who gives you game tickets.”
I hesitate, then throw caution to the wind. “No promises—I have to clear it with my boss—but if you come to one of Felix’s games that the king attends, I might be able to arrange for you to meet him.”
The fork clatters to the tabletop, Riley’s mouth dropping open. “Really?”
I shrug, trying to be casual. “I can ask. I’m surprised Felix hasn’t already—one of his best friends is the king’s consort.”
A foot stomps down hard on my toes, and a wheezy groan escapes me, but nobody hears it in the eruption of voices that follows my statement.
“All right, stop,” Felix yells finally. “You’re making Ari think we’re all animals.”
“Perhaps he’d be right,” Shayla says with a little sniff. “After all, I doubt animals tell their mothers what’s going on in their lives.”
Felix rolls his eyes. “I’ve talked about Jared before.”
“Yet somehow didn’t mention that he was dating royalty,” Greta points out.
