But before I can explore ideas for helping him, I need to move on to the next target: Somnus DeLune.
I've killed incubi before, in the Nether. There are still old-world monsters there, after all. They're just not immortal like the Immortal Quintet. After Amadeus took my heart and declared me histelum, my training sometimes consisted of being chased through the deformed woods surrounding Amadeus's kingdom while two or three monsters competed to see who could kill me first.
So, I know how to take down a strong incubus. I just have to get the right weapons and lure him away from the others where no one will see or suspect it was my doing.
And I also have an unexpected advantage over him. Something I hadn’t even considered. Sitting up, I remove the totem Crypt left last night from under the pillow. I examine it, ignoring the strong smell of thecalea ternifolia.
This is an old totem. Very old. It’s no coincidence that Crypt’s immortal father has been carrying it around. After all, what use does a nightmare-stopping totem have for an incubus who doesn’t even sleep?
I have a theory, but I want to be close enough to kill Somnus before I give it a try.
I get ready for the day and slip into Everett's office. But before I can touch the door, ice completely encapsulates the handle. I glance over my shoulder and smirk.
"Not an early riser?"
He rubs his face sleepily, leaning against the doorway into his apartment. "Normally, it's no problem, but it's kind of impossible to sleep with a boner from hell."
I blink. He never came close to touching me after that kiss last night, so I had no idea he was still turned on. My neck feels warm, and Everett must realize he blurted that out loud because his cheeks flame red. He clears his throat.
"Can you wait a second? I'll be right out. I just don't like the idea of you wandering the halls. There are too many psychopaths wandering Everbound right now."
Why do they keep saying shit like this? They saw me fight. By now, they should know I'm the biggest danger in this castle.
"I'll be fine on my own. Plus, I'm sure Crypt is already waiting outside. Maybe Silas and Baelfire, too."
"Exactly. Psychopaths," he huffs, walking into his room. "Hang on."
A few minutes later, we leave to find that all three of my other matches were waiting like I suspected. My stomach sinks when I see that Baelfire's neck is covered in fresh scratches, Silas has deep dark circles under his crimson eyes, and Crypt…well, he's fine, but I'm pretty sure that's fresh blood on his jeans. He's also wearing a new leather jacket he probably stole from someone else.
Baelfire surrounds me immediately in a big, warm hug, but when he picks me up, I let out an embarrassing squeak of surprise. He buries his face in my neck and inhales.
"There's my little Raincloud," he says roughly. His gravelly voice rumbling against my ear sends prickles of awareness down my spine.
Then he yelps, and I drop back to my feet. Silas just stabbed Baelfire in the shoulder with his bleeding crystal, and the blood fae's expression is vicious.
"She didn't want to be picked up, you ass. We're helping her with light exposure therapy, not manhandling her. What the hell were you thinking?"
"It's fine," I insist when I see Baelfire's eyes shift momentarily.
Tendons bulge in his neck, and he growls, scratching at his neck around the collar again. I quickly grab his hands, forcing him to stop and look at me.
"It's your curse," I surmise quietly.
My poor, sunshiney shifter looks miserable, his shoulders slumping. "My dragon is fuckingawfulright now. I don't even know what thoughts are mine and which are his. I just…"
His nostrils flare, his gaze darting down the hall. We all follow where he's looking and see a random group of legacies chatting and heading our way. One of them, a shifter, glances over and waves at Baelfire, obviously another friend.
He turns back to me, shrugging off his brown jacket. "Wear this. I need my scent on you.Now."
Did he just growl at me? I fold my arms. "Let's try that again."
He steps closer until his singed cedar scent envelops me. I'm an average size, but I feel dainty next to his brawny mass. He lowers his voice so only I can hear him.
"After we fucked, I thought my dragon would start to calm down. But it's so muchworse. It's like now that I know exactly how perfect my mate is, I can't think about anything except someone trying to take you away from me. I swear on all six gods, Maven, I will lose my fucking shit and kill the first person who so much as breathes in your direction if you're not wearing my scent today."
His voice is strained and dangerous. This new display of angry possessiveness does something to me on a primal level that's difficult to ignore. I swallow and slip on the jacket before looking up at him.
"There. Better?"
