August’s gaze darts behind me, and he smiles as he sees whatever—or whoever—is behind me. Based on his smile, I’m assuming it’s either Koa or Barrett.
I’m right. I turn, finding both males walking into the library. Koa is dressed impeccably, a navy blue suit fitted perfectly to his muscular frame. His emerald eyes track every inch of my skin as he walks toward me. Barrett walks beside him, dressed in a red suit. His white shirt is unbuttoned again, revealing dark, curly chest hair.
“Wow,” Barrett says as he nears me.
I glance at Koa, remembering our tense exchange in the bathroom just days ago. He’s looking at me, a neutral expression on his face. He doesn’t say a word.
“Thanks,” I say, shooting Barrett a thankful smile. “Where are Marik and Asmo?”
“They’re coming,” Koa says tersely.
Okay, then.
“Mae, can I get you a drink?” August says from behind me. I think I might love August for asking me that one, simple question. Because yes, I would love several, incredibly strong drinks.
“That would be great,” I say with a grin. “I’m going to go grab a seat.” I motion toward the seating area by the open wall in the back of the library.
Barrett follows me, but Koa chooses to stay with August as they pour drinks for everyone.
“What was that about?” Barrett asks me as he takes a seat opposite from me.
“Nothing,” I say dismissively.
“Didn’t look like nothing,” he mutters.
August and Koa walk over, drinks floating behind them. “Cool trick,” I say, hoping to ease some of the tension that now fills the room.
August winks at me and floats me a glass of wine. I graciously accept and take a giant swig. The taste of blackberries floods my mouth, and I close my eyes in bliss. August sits beside me on the couch and rests an arm on the couch behind me. Koa joins Barrett on the other couch and takes a long sip of his drink, liquid amber sloshing in his glass.
“What games are on the schedule for tonight?” August asks. “Personally, I love a game of Truth or Dare.”
“Of course you’d want to play that game again.” Barrett scoffs.
August throws his hands up. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s juvenile,” Koa says, leaning back into the couch and resting an ankle on his knee.
“So what? Nothing wrong with—”
Darkness coats the room. It’s the same impenetrable darkness as the other night. My stomach lurches, and my hands begin to shake as the memory re-surfaces. I grab August beside me. His body is rigid. In the darkness, I feel as he shifts his body in front of me.
“Cut it out, Az,” Marik’s exasperated voice says.
The darkness lifts, revealing the two Serpent Princes striding toward us. Both are, once again, clothed in all black. They would look nearly identical, but Marik wears a white shirt underneath his blazer while Asmo’s shirt is black and halfway unbuttoned, revealing his snake tattoo.
“The dramatics,” August mumbles beside me, shifting back into the couch.
“All you can do is sit and roll over,” Asmo says, claiming the seat directly across from me.
Marik takes the seat next to me.
“Do you two want a drink?” I ask, interrupting the pissing match I’m sure was about to just happen.
Instead of answering, Asmo waves his hand. A bottle of wine flies toward him, narrowly missing Koa’s head.
“Watch it,” Koa growls.
Asmo doesn’t respond. Instead, he uncorks the bottle and takes a sip straight from it. “Delicious,” he says with a grin.
