Suddenly, I sniff. “Something smells nice.”
“I would say that was both of you, dearhearts,” Lanlin replies. “Did you decide to borrow my oils?”
Freya shrugs, climbing back onto the bed next to me. “You say borrow. I say steal.”
“It’s breakfast.” Lanlin elegantly perches on the side of the bed, draped in a long, glittering black robe.
His hair is pinned back from his face with diamond bat clips.
I stare at the sticky mess. “Hmm.”
Lanlin looks uncertain. “They are bat honey and date cakes. It’s my attempt. I made them myself. They’re the courting gift, remember?”
“They’re perfect,” Freya valiantly lies.
Killer and baker. He has my vote.
Lanlin’s face lights up. He snatches up a honey and date cake and holds it up to Freya. “May I handfeed you, my Omega?”
She nods, enthusiastically.
As she bites, moaning in a way that makes my cock almost manage to become hard again, I eagerly snatch two cakes off the plate and stuff them into my mouth at once.
I can’t help that I learned from my time starving in Aurelius’ dungeon to eat any food as quickly as possible, before the guards deliberately stole or spoiled it.
I munch, happily.
Lanlin quirks his brow at me. “Do fae not need to chew? Is it acceptable?”
He appears to truly want an answer to that.
I give him an honest and enthusiastic thumbs up.
It doesn’t matter what it looks like on the plate. I can never eat enough cake.
Lanlin reaches for another cake to handfeed Freya, at the same time that I attempt to sneak a third one.
I hiss in pain, as the iron tip of his glove catches and burns across my skin.
Lanlin’s face falls. “I’m sorry, my Dove.”
Freya kisses across the burn, blowing over the back of my hand.
“Then how about not bringing bloody weapons that burn fae into our nest?” I reply.
Lanlin’s eyes flash with something that I don’t understand, before he leans closer to me. “I didn’t choose to wear these gloves. Maybe you shouldn’t bring a weapon that burns vampires into our nest either.”
He pulls aside his robe at the collar to reveal a nasty burn on his shoulder. I’ve stabbed enough vampires with silver to know that it was caused by my mask. It must have been when I snuggled against him in my sleep.
I chuckle, awkwardly. “Looks like we’re poisonous to each other.”
“I’ll need to sleep between you each night.” Freya glances between us nervously. “How about you keep your distance from each other?”
To my shock, Lanlin laughs, darkly. “That’s not possible.”
This is it.
I can feel it tingling across my skin, a sense that every trickster fae has: My opportunity to make a deal.
