The others? “Who went to town?” Aric asked, stopping next to the group and eyeing each of them.

Ryon answered, exasperated. “Kalen, Sariel, Mackenzie, and Rowan. They went to the Cross-eyed Grizzly to blow off some steam. Hard day and all.”

“And the way to reward yourself at the end of a ‘hard day’ is to get drunk and throw up,” Nick said drily, rolling his eyes. “I think Bill Cosby did a routine about that once.”

Zan snickered. “Lighten up, boss. Nobody’s gonna get drunk. Buzzed, maybe.”

“I have an idea.” Ryon brightened. “Aric can come with us, and that’s four. Problem solved.”

Aric held up a hand. “Man, I’m beat. I was just looking for Rowan to, um, say I’m sorry for being such a dick earlier.” He really didn’t feel like going out, as appealing as it sounded to be with Rowan in a casual, fun setting.

“Yeah?” His blond-haired friend got a decidedly evil look in his eyes. “I’d say she’s already forgotten all about you and your dick, so no worries.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that she seemed pretty happy to be going out on the arm of a Fae prince who looks like a fuckin’ runway model, that’s all.” He shot Aric a grin.

The picture Ryon had painted made his wolf strain to shred something and his blood began a slow boil. Rowan and Sariel. Getting cozy at the Grizzly and drinking the night away. Oh, fuck no. That was not going to do.

Quickly, he checked his jeans, T-shirt, and shit-kickers. Not much, but he’d probably look better than the regulars. He doubted most of them bathed. “I’m in. Nicky?”

With a sigh, the boss relented. “I’ll go for a while, but I’m not staying all night.”

“Woo-hoo!” Ryon pumped his fist.

Aric tried to recall when he’d felt that young, and decided it had been before his stepfather and Beryl had invaded his life. Not something he wanted to think about.

“Hang on. How is Sariel able to be out at a bar?” he asked.

“Kalen helped him out with a cloaking spell.” Nick smiled. “You should see them. Those two look like brothers now.”

Aric tried to call that image to mind, and failed.

Outside, they piled into one of the SUVs with Nick behind the wheel and Aric in the front passenger seat. Ryon, Christ love him, kept the conversation lighthearted, chattering like a monkey on crack the entire way, as though trying to somehow compensate for the total steaming pile of dung the day had turned out to be.

His friend didn’t take a breath until Nick parked outside the Grizzly and shut off the ignition. By then Aric’s ears were ringing. Maybe his brain would hemorrhage and he wouldn’t have to sit in a bar full of stinky wannabe outdoorsmen for hours. But as soon as he went inside, he knew he wouldn’t be that lucky.

It took him about two seconds to spot the foursome against the far wall at a long table. They were laughing, having a great time, obviously doing their part to put the day behind them. Kalen and Sariel each had longnecks. Mac was sipping what looked like a margarita, and Rowan had two shots of gold liquid and lime wedges lined up in front of her. He wasn’t surprised to find she’d skipped the margarita and gone straight for the tequila.

As his group approached, Aric’s attention was drawn to Sariel. The prince took a drink of his beer, trying to emulate his male companion, and ended up choking. Guess they don’t serve Sam Adams in the Seelie court. Rowan pounded him on the back, smiling, then hugged his waist, she and Mac making sympathetic noises.

Aric held back a snarl. Even with his wings hidden, his long hair disguised as jet-black, dressed in jeans and a form-fitting black button-down shirt, the male was too damned pretty. And way too sensual, leaning into Rowan’s attentions, like a cat arching for a nice petting.

The guy would have to find someone else to scratch his itch.

“Can’t hold your booze, huh, Sam?” Aric took the vacant seat next to Rowan. Nick, Zan, and Ryon took up open spots at the end.

Sariel’s smile of welcome turned puzzled. “Sam?”

He pointed to the bottle. “Nickname. I was teasing you.” Blank stare. “The beer you’re drinking is Sam Adams.”

“Oh! Yes, well…” Sariel’s nose wrinkled. “Kalen talked me into ordering this and it tastes horrible. I’m sure that would be much better.” He pointed to Mac’s drink.

“Want to try one?” Rowan asked. “They’re smooth and sweet, and taste like limeade. With a kick.”

The prince gave his enthusiastic approval and Rowan waved at the server. The girl hurried over, giving the men of their group an appreciative eye before taking their order. Sariel requested his margarita, but the rest, including Aric, went for beers. Zan helped himself to the Fae’s abandoned brew as a warm-up. Or cool-down. Whatever.

Looking around first to make sure nobody was listening, Aric addressed Nick. “Are we sure it’s safe for him to be out in public?” He gestured to Sariel. “Nice work with the disguise, but his kind can sense him.”

Kalen flashed him a look of irritation. “My spell will work. Why don’t we try to have a night out and relax for a change? We could all use the break.”

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to unwind. Nobody wanted to hang with a perpetual downer, even if his worries were valid. Deciding to try some small talk, he gestured to Kalen’s chest.

“I noticed Mac is wearing your pendant. What’s up with that?” He cocked his head. “What haven’t you told us about the attack on you and Mac?”

The couple glanced at each other and Nick, and Kalen shrugged. Aric thought his nonchalance was forced.

“It happened while you were being held captive. The pendant is protection against evil and I’m letting Mac wear it for a while, that’s all. The encounter with those things shook her up and having it on makes her feel better.”

“I think that’s a glossed-over answer.” Aric narrowed his eyes.

Mac gave a weak smile. “What’s the big deal? Like Kalen said, let’s just have a nice evening.”

Nick changed the subject with discussion about a new laser weapon being developed by Grant and his team in the government. Aric tuned them out. Sitting back, he slung an arm over the back of Rowan’s chair and whispered into her ear.

“You went out and didn’t invite me to the party? I’m crushed.” Actually, he kind of was. But he didn’t want her to know.

“Maybe because you pissed me off?” she suggested sweetly.

“Yeah, about that… Could we step outside for a minute?”

“I don’t know. I’m having a pretty good time right where I am.”

The stubborn set of her jaw, the militant flash in those big brown eyes, her shiny hair falling around her shoulders were so freaking sexy. His damned cock went rock hard in his jeans and he had to press the heel of his hand to his crotch to get it to behave. Not that it worked. “Please?”

“Let me think—no.”

“Fine, have it your way.” Pounding a fist on the table, and causing his friends to jump, he cleared his throat. Their conversation stopped, and he met their curious stares without flinching. “I owe Rowan, and everyone else, an apology. I was a complete dick this afternoon and I’m sorry.”

Silence.

And then, from Kalen, “Is that it?”

He scowled. “What else do you want? A dozen roses?”

The Sorcerer snickered. “Not me, but the lady there might feel differently.”

He turned to Rowan and found that the ice had thawed, some. But he had a bit more work cut out for him. Mustering every ounce of sincerity, he laid his hand over hers on the tabletop. “I get what you were telling me earlier. I apologize for being a jackass. I do that when things get too intense and I don’t want to deal, but that’s no excuse for shutting you down when you shared something really painful that you went through. I’m sorry, Ro.”

Her eyes softened and she offered a small smile. “Nobody calls me that but Micah.”

“Do you mind?”