Needless to say, I’m not particularly surprised to find that my Lo-Ren is not seated obediently at the table, hands folded, waiting patiently for my return like a good little consort. But perhaps I am experiencing a small twinge of disappointment, whichdoessurprise me. When did I start caring whether humans behaved predictably?
However, in the very next moment, my grin returns full force. Because there’s absolutely nothing I love more than a proper chase, and it’s been far too long since I’ve had an excuse for one. Perhaps it was slightly unkind not to warn her about the fundamental rule of monsters: if you run, we inevitably chase. But then again, I did intentionally show her that moving mural upstairs.
I figured I might as well paint us as angels first rather than reveal my true nature immediately and risk sending her into complete hysterics.
But if chase I must... My grin stretches deliciously wide as anticipation floods my veins. I rub my hands together gleefully and feel my tail rise with excitement behind me as I drop the large bag of Parisian delicacies onto the polished table.
Just then, the furthest door—the one leading to our luxurious bathing chambers—swings open, and Lo-Ren steps out in a cloud of lavender-scented steam.
“Oh!” Her entire face lights up like sunrise, and my dead heart actually stutters. “You’re back already!”
I freeze completely, blinking in absolute bewilderment as I try to dampen my predatory grin. She... didn’t run? Didn’t evenattemptto escape? Not even after seeing Romulus and learning the rather shocking truth about my dual nature?
My heart starts doing something very strange and irregular in my chest as she walks toward me across the stone floor, looking utterly calm and genuinely pleased to see me. Her hair is slightly damp from what must have been a bath, and she’s somehow managed to make herself even more beautiful in my absence.
“What’d you bring back? Please tell me it’s not sushi.” She wrinkles her nose in the most adorable expression of distaste. “I would have mentioned that if you’d given me half a second before taking off like some kind of bat out of hell. I’ve tried to get into the whole raw fish trend, but I just can’t make myself like it.”
I continue blinking like an absolute fool. I am rarely—never—the one caught off guard in any situation.
Finally, I manage to force actual words from my throat. “Duck.” And then a rush of additional information follows. “From one of the finest Parisian restaurants, world-famousfor the dish. I’ve been patronizing them for... many years.”Centuries, actually, but no need to overwhelm her immediately. “Accompanied by olive tapenade, an exquisite cheese selection, and the most exceptional Beaujolais.”
She continues gazing at me with those warm, dark eyes in a way that’s both thrilling and deeply unsettling. The direct eye contact is more intense than I’m accustomed to—most beings, mortal or otherwise, tend to look away from me rather quickly. When I finally break first, breathing out heavily, I begin unpacking our feast with perhaps more focus than necessary.
Lo-Ren approaches closer than people usually dare to stand—close enough that I can smell the lingering lavender from her bath mixed with her own intoxicating scent.
“Wow, everything smells absolutely incredible. This is actually really thoughtful of you.” She reaches out boldly and snags a slice of aged Roquefort, popping it into her mouth while I pour the deep red wine into crystal goblets. “And I definitely love wine and cheese.”
I desperately want to ask her why she didn’t run. Why she didn’t eventryto escape when faced with clear evidence of my supernatural nature. I know any attempt would have been utterly futile—we’re hundreds of miles from the nearest human settlement—but mortals have never been renowned for their excellent logical reasoning skills. Their instincts are barely more sophisticated than wild animals: freeze, fight, or flight. I’ve witnessed those three responses millions of times across countless battlefields.
But then another thought stops me cold, sending an unfamiliar chill down my spine.
Is she truly not afraid of me? Even after everything she’s seen?
Who is this extraordinary creature?
Is she somehow as beautifully mad as I am?
“Why are you grinning at me like that?” she asks, pausing with another piece of cheese halfway to her mouth, eyebrow raised in amusement.
“No particular reason,” I lie smoothly and extract the final entrée from its elegant packaging. Using the ornate silver utensils laid out on our table, I transfer everything from the restaurant’s cardboard containers to the magnificent tableware that Abaddon had Kharon purchase for his bride’s wedding feast.
It truly was a lovely ceremony at the start of summer, and I’ll freely admit it stirred considerable jealousy in my black heart. The sight of my brothers finding their perfect matches made me decide once and for all that it was time to claim a consort for my very own. If even Kharon—who we used to call Thing because of his social awkwardness—could find female companionship, then surely it would be simple work for someone of my obvious charms and devastating good looks.
I flash my most winning smile at my Lo-Ren as our feast spreads before us in all its Parisian glory. But there’s one final detail needed to create the perfect romantic atmosphere.
Pointing my finger with theatrical flair, I weave a couple of simple runes to ignite the tall white candles standing in elegant silver holders at the center of our table.
Lo-Ren gasps delightfully. “I’m not sure I’m ever going to get used to casual magic like that.”
I scoff, unable to resist showing off just a little. “That’s among the most basic of my abilities, andthat’swhat impresses you?”
She shrugs with a grin. “Well, the flying was certainly... something else entirely.” Her eyes widen as she says it, and she lets out a little breathless laugh that does absolutely sinful things to my concentration. “I have to say, when I woke up yesterday morning, I never could have imagined that I’d be sitting in anancient castle having authentic Parisian cuisine with an actual god today. The universe definitely has a twisted sense of humor.”
I lift my goblet high. “To the universe and her excellent comedic timing.”
She half-nods, half-shakes her head with bemused acceptance. “To the universe and whatever the hell she thinks she’s doing.”
We both take our first bites of the succulent duck, and her reaction is everything I could have hoped for and more. Her eyes immediately go impossibly wide as she chews, and I find myself wondering if I’ll ever grow accustomed to how wonderfully expressive her face is.
