“I wish.” Alistair tugs me down on the couch. I’m so sweaty, my arms and legs stick to it, making me wince.
“Do you think this couch is made from dead monster skin?” I rub my hand over the leather cushion, feeling for gods know what. Spikes, maybe? Or a sightless eye socket.
Alistair sniffs the leather and gasps.
I yank my hand back. His sense of smell is much stronger than mine. If he got a whiff of dead monster, I’m going to lose it. “What? Do you smell something?”
Grinning, he tugs me into his lap. “It smells like a couch to me.”
“Ali, I’m all sweaty,” I complain as he buries his face in my neck.
“I know. You smell delicious.”
I don’t believe him, but if he wants to snuggle while I’m sweaty, that’s his choice. I relax into his chest and try to drown out my lingering negative thoughts. “I’m not sure I want to talk about it,” I say. “But thank you for being here.”
Alistair hums and tightens his grip on me, like he thinks someone might try to snatch me away at any moment. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
“Is Luca okay?” I ask quietly.
“He’s been in the shower for an hour.”
“The hot water doesn’t last that long.”
Ali sighs. “Exactly.”
“Ciprian?”
“Sitting on the bathroom floor, telling him stories. Each one more outlandish than the last.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You two divided and conquered. How did you decide? Rock, paper, scissors?”
“Casanell didn’t want to exercise.”
That makes me laugh—a real, deep belly laugh that hurts my abs. Some of the stress leaves my body, like air escaping from an overfull balloon.
“He confronted Luca, you know,” Ali says.
I lift my head to look into his eyes. “When?”
“After you left, before Malach fell. Luca was panicking, fixating on all the ways he could hurt, maim, or kill you. Ciprian got fed up, so he tackled him, kissed him while he was fighting the basilisk, and swallowed a mouthful of venom to prove his point.”
My jaw drops. “And it was fine?”
Alistair nods. “He was testing a hypothesis: Luca’s basilisk won’t hurt those it considers his.”
“Thank the gods he was right,” I mutter. “I’ve always thought that, but Luca is stubborn.”
“You should have seen Luca’s face.” Ali smirks until the tips of his fangs peek out. “I thought his head might explode.”
“I’m sure Ciprian loved that.”
“He was pleased.” Lips curled, Alistair’s blue eyes soften. His feelings are written all over his face, and I press a kiss to his lips.
“He’ll forgive you,” I whisper. “He’s stubborn too, but he’ll come around.”
“We’ll see.” Ali drags his lips over my neck. “Celine, you know that Luca’s disconnect from his monster is the problem, right? It has nothing to do with you.”
“I get it up here.” I tap my head, then shrug. “But my heart doesn’t understand the difference.”
