Her name is Alexandra. She hates it. With a deep passion.

The few times I’ve seen her genuinely angry were due to being called that name. By yours truly.

The first time, it was a glare; the second, a punch on the shoulder that left a bruise; the third and last time was last night. She slapped me.

Needless to say, she prefers Alex.

What I haven’t told her? I’m in love with her. Have been since I was old enough to pull her tail as kits.

I first fell for her beauty. Then her spirit. Later, her character. Now it’s her. All of her.

And she won’t give me a chance. Surely it's not because I burned her hair off when we were cubs. That was years ago.

“She’s a firecracker.” Roland’s black eyes track me as I make my way to his side.

“Yep.” The smile overwhelms my face despite the red handprint on the side of my face.

I watch as something resembling envy spreads across his face as he watches the revelry by the fire. Before him, I didn’t realize how privileged my little tribe is.

He opened my eyes to many things, and I have the inherent feeling he’s not done yet.

Excitement courses through my veins at the thought. A little mischief filled adventuring never hurt anyone.

~~~

Later that evening, I skid into the mess hall Father lovingly calls his Casa Delli, ducking into a hidden alcove behind a large potted fern and jumping to catch a jutting board just the right height to swing onto a dark wooden rafter about ten feet up. The hall is dark wood all round, even the chairs and tables dotting the hall, with a domed ceiling and a place one can escape through the threshing on the roof if one is daring enough. It's better to be daring than get caught.

"Fla—" a sneeze interrupts the exclamation, and I take the moment to climb further into the rafters. "Get—" sneeze, sneeze. "Back here." Sneeze.

The grin on my face doesn't leave, even as the assassin glares at me through sneezes. The man is an enigma, except for the things he truly wishes to hide. He doesn't show much, but when he does... he's easier to read than a kit.

Roland grunts when he steps on his still-healing ankle. I wince, still feeling a bit bad about that. My wounds have long since healed, but he's stuck with a limp. Father is deeply worried about the Shifter who landed in our paws, the shefas aren't even sure why he's not healing.

I fought Zephie when she told me in no uncertain terms to get the wolf back to our village in any form or fashion. I felt it was unreasonable, but the little brother opinion doesn't go a long way when the females lead the hunting. And then, once Father got his claws in the Shifter... he wasn't going anywhere.

I'm not of their opinion. He needs freedom, but that's the reason I'm not the heir. Politics is not my favorite thing in the worlds, even if I know the reason for them and agree someone needs to do it.

You got me so far? Good.

If only it wasn't for the chained look in his eyes, I would be of the same mind as Zephie and Dad. But something in me longs to set him free much as I set free the rat in our cellar, or the bird in Aunt Bridge's hair.

The yellow bird was sitting on the jrakunth eggs. The eggs take years to hatch, but the healing powers in their blood when they bond to a Were is something we lost when we had to flee our homeland. Aunt Bridge barely escaped with a clutch of the tiny eggs, almost paying with her life to rescue them from a fire that left her legs and neck scarred. Now she cajoles any willing bird into sitting on the eggs to provide the warmth they need to hatch.

The predecessor of her current bird was growing tired of her task, so I freed her from her nightly nest beside the fire in Aunt Bridge's residence.

Aunt Bridge was less than pleased.

And now, as I scramble from an angry, sneezing Shifter, I only wish to set him free as I did that bird.

But such a thing is not possible.

So I have made it my responsibility to see him have some fun. The Shifter is such a die-hard glarer, he might as well put it to use for good reason.

Another sneeze makes me chuckle, especially when he yells in frustration directly after and draws all eyes from me in the rafters to the dark-haired man doubling over after another higher pitched sneeze that sounded like a kitten.

I take the moment to disappear through a tiny hole in the attic and beyond into the snowy roof.

I scramble to a stop on the bowl shaped roof, barely an inch from plowing into Alexandria.

"Erm, hi?" I say, sheepishly rubbing the back of my neck even as I give her an innocent grin. This grin got me out of berserk cleaning duty when I let a snake into the Council Hall. During a council meeting. And it was a Kibold... it spit venomous liquid on one of Dad's prized maps.

The grin does zilch for Alex.

"Peppermint?" She taps a finger on her elbow, her vibrant green eyes narrowing as her lips pinch into a thin line.

"He needed—"

"Flash, I swear you think pranks and laughter are the answer for everything, but did you even stop to think how much pain he's in from uncontrollable sneezing?" Her voice lilts, musical and just as beautiful as the rest of her.

Another high-pitched sneeze filters up from below, and I wince, even as Alex bites her lip to hide her smile.

"I—didn't—"

She sighs. "I know you didn't, and goodness knows he needs some fun in his life—"

"Thank you!"

She glares at my interruption and I mime zipping my lips and throwing the key over the side of the building. "He needs some fun, but next time, keep in mind how it may hurt him before you engage in one of your ideas."

My boot toes the snow, and I glance up when she gets done. "I know, Alex. I just," I begin, but the words to explain my actions elude me.

She smiles, her sharp features crinkling into a softer beauty with the gentle turn of her lips and tightening of her eyes. She flicks her red braid over her shoulder. "We all know you meant well. Just don't go too far, deal?"

I lick my hand and stick it out in the usual Were bro code.

She looks at my hand in horror, and I swiftly pull it back.

"Too much?" I ask.

Another sneeze.

She tries to hold it back, but her lip twitches at the high-pitched kitten sound.

"I'm goin' to—' sneeze. '—kill that cat!" Sneeze.

Her melodious laughter fills the air, and I know if Alex can laugh, then the next few days are going to turn out just fine. But that was before we went after the dragons.