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Ragnar adjusts the ears, feeling a little foolish as he eyes himself in the mirror. He looks pretty ridiculous, all things considered, and yet Dahlia lights up the moment she opens the front door.
"You did it," she breathes, eyes shining with excitement as the door thuds closed behind her. Her bag falls out of her hands. "You're actually wearing them."
"Yeah, yeah," he replies gruffly. Hell, he's still not thrilled about the eyes and the bushy tail, but at least she's pleased.
"You look so good." She steps forward, touching his biceps as she studies the full ensemble. He'd dressed up for her.
"Yeah?" He gives her a wolfish grin then, no longer feeling quite as silly as he pulls her against his chest. "Maybe I should just eat you up, then."
"Oh." Her voice is breathy as she rises on her tiptoes, a shudder running through her as he echoes the line from one of her favorite books. "Please, Ragnar."
And he does. Voraciously, as it happens, for a wolf's appetite is not easy to satisfy.