I closed my eyes. “Bastard.”
“I agree.” One of his legs touched mine under the covers. “Now, quit talking. I’m tired as hell.”
I kept my eyes shut so I couldn’t see her. My eyebrows pinched as my thoughts wandered. “If that bitch starts singing, I’ll open fire on her. I don’t give a shit if she’s a ghost. It’ll make me feel better.”
He snorted, and then growled, “She’s a parlor trick, not a ghost. And unless you want me this ill-tempered tomorrow, then shut the hell up, your majesty. I need my sleep.”
Not. An. Easy. Lover.
I opened my mouth just to spite him. “Good night, my lord. I hope you have sweet, sweet dreams. Of women that you’ve killed and skeleton druids lurking in corners.”
“Fucking hell. Nowthat’sfucked up.” Then…he laughed, deep and quiet. “Ysander and Devin were ugly, weren’t they?”
I teased, “Shh. Remember? Some of us need our beauty sleep.”
Lord Otto barked, “Shut the hell up!”
My lips twitched. I knew full well the other Overlord could hear me when I whispered, “Guess you’re not the only one who’s grumpy, my lord.”
I fell back asleep inside the haunted room.
Chapter Nineteen
~ Gwynnore ~
The mattress jarred underneath me, shaking my entire body. I snapped my eyes open, but I couldn’t see anything. My face was smashed against a heated body, a muscular physique that curled around mine. My arms and legs intertwined with that person’s limbs too, both of us holding each other close. I wiggled my nose and sniffed.
Mint.
I was wrapped around Lord Belshazzar.
He raised his head from his pillow and tilted away to look down at the woman in his arms. His blue eyes blinked and his face crinkled in confusion. In a sleep-roughened voice, he muttered, “Did you just kick me?”
“No.” I slithered my right hand between our bodies and rubbed at my eyes with my fist. “I don’t know what that was.”
“They’re finally awake!” Lord Otto sang loud and clear. “It’s about damn time.”
I stiffened inside the Overlord’s embrace.
Fuck. Me.
We weren’t alone inside his bedchamber.
Lord Belshazzar stared for a heartbeat before he pulled away from me and rolled onto his back. He raised his arms above his head and stretched. Only after that did he turn to face the room. He growled, “Which one of you kicked me?”
All of the other Overlords were awake inside our bedroom—in the druid castle, not Lord Belshazzar’s private quarters in our own stronghold. And they were fucking showered and dressed already, casually sitting on chairs inside the room, all with their phones out and using them.
Lord Cato turned his eyes in our direction, his regard flicking between the two of us. His tone was measured. “I did. Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for you two to wake up?”
My blue eyes shot to the windows, and my lips tipped down into a frown. “I’m guessing a while.” The sun appeared to be high in the sky. “Were you tip-toeing around us? Why didn’t you wake us?”
Lord Otto snorted. His eyes ran over the screen on his phone, reading at lightning speed. He stated absently, “Honestly? You two were snoring so hard that we left you alone.” Lord Otto paused, still reading on his phone. “We left you so alone that there’s no way you would have woken at Lord Xenon dropping his luggage next to your bed or Lord Pippin shaking the foot of your bed or Lord Cato cursing at you or me throwing shit at you.”
I stared. “You’re lying, my lord.”
He flicked a finger in our direction. “There’s a pair of socks above Lord Belshazzar’s head, your majesty. I’d like them back.”
I looked. A pair of black rolled socks rested there.
