“I am not a Penguin,” Greyson managed to grit out, though the lethal edge in his voice was completely gone, replaced by a desperate, utterly bewildered fondness.
Callie ignored him, her hazy gaze drifting to the left until it landed on Raiden. Raiden instinctively puffed out his broad chest, ready to receive whatever adorable, drunken nonsense she was about to bestow upon him.
“And you,” Callie smiled, reaching her hand out toward him. “Hi, Dragon.”
Raiden melted. It was immediate and catastrophic. The towering, terrifying Warden let out a soft, rumbling sound that was dangerously close to a purr, his entire posture softening as he leaned over the table to catch her outstretched hand.
“Hi, little mouse,” Raiden rumbled gently, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. His tattoos dimmed from an
