The gym was filled with weights, machines, and mats. I wrinkled my nose slightly, unsure what to make of it all.
“I don’t think I’d be much good at any of this,” I admitted, glancing at the rows of equipment.
“It’s not for everyone,” Koa chuckled. “But you can learn if you ever want to.”
Zane shifted me higher against his chest as Brumous sniffed a machine.
“Hey! No peeing on that, fuzzer!”
Brumous cocked his head to the side with a hurt look in his blue eyes, as if he were offended by the very idea, and I covered my mouth to muffle my chuckle.
We moved through the halls to the home theater. The room was dimly lit, with plush reclining seats and a wall-sized screen that made my eyes widen.
“Could we…” I hesitated, then reminded myself theywantedme to ask for things. “Watch something together sometime?”
“Name the night.” Koa grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Pride and Prejudice?”
“Careful,” Zane snickered. “Princess might think we’re civilized.”
Finally, we ended up in a room that felt like a third living room, but the centerpiece was a magnificent grand piano on a dais, its polished wood gleaming under the soft light from the chandeliers. The couches and chairs circled it like an audience waiting for a performance.
“It’s a pity that such a beautiful instrument doesn’t have anyone to play it,” I murmured as Zane set me down on one of the couches, Brumous following and flopping on my feet.
Koa’s elbow connected with Zane’s ribs, followed by a hissed, “Ow!”
“Stop prevaricating, Z.” Casimir crossed his arms, his long braid sliding over his broad shoulder. “Play.”
Zane’s smirk faltered. For a heartbeat, the boy who wore sarcasm like armor stood exposed, fingers flexing, throat working. Then he straddled the bench with exaggerated swagger.
“Prepare for tinnitus, sweetheart.”
The first chords struck my spine like silver rain. Notes cascaded, sweet and sorrowful, as his hands danced across the keys.
When the last vibration faded, I realized I’d leaned forward enough to nearly slide off the couch only because Casimir’s arm looped around my waist and pulled me back against the cushions.
“Why didn’t you sing?” I whispered, because anything louder seemed wrong after that concert-worthy performance.
“Already perfect.” Zane spun on the bench, mischief restored. “Adding my voice would’ve been gilding the lily.”
A faint pink tinged his ears, though, and something fluttered in my chest. I glanced at Koa and Casimir, half expecting them to poke at him, but they were oddly silent. Why weren’t they teasing him like he most definitely would them?
“That was incredible,” I said, my voice trembling with wonder. “More than incredible. I don’t have the words.”
“Glad you liked it.” One side of Zane’s mouth tugged up, but there was something softer in his eyes now.
“He cried during his first formal recital.” Koa dragged two wingback chairs in front of my couch, their carved lion’s feet sliding soundlessly over the marble, and sat in the left one. “Seven years old and sobbing through ‘Für Elise’.”
“Lies,” Zane scoffed, dropping onto the couch beside me. “Although Ididvomit on our etiquette tutor after she forced me to bow five times.”
Casimir claimed the right chair, unblinking as he stared at me.
“What?” I asked, a tiny ripple of unease pulling my eyebrows together.
“You agreed to wed a stranger from the vampire court. Why?”
“Blunt as a hammer strike,” Koa sighed.
“Subtlety called.” Zane hurled a throw pillow at Casimir’s head. “It’s filing a restraining order.”
