[Gale's POV]
I tucked both stuffed toys securely under one arm—the ridiculous wolf and the even more ridiculous fairy—and balanced the cookbook on top of the pile, their soft bulk awkward but manageable. I can't believe that mutt got pickpocketed, I thought, shaking my head. After all his talk about heightened senses and wolf instincts, he let his guard down at a festival. Pathetic.
I glanced at Ovelia. She was staring in the direction Ace had disappeared, her red eyes searching the crowd as if she could will him back into view—her bouquet of flowers dangling forgotten in her grip. The worry radiating from her through our bond was a faint, persistent ache.
I sighed inwardly. Wonderful. Now it looks like we're the ones on a friendly date.
"Ovelia," I said, my voice deliberately flat.
She turned to look at me, her expression shifting from worried to questioning.
