I reach for his shirt and fist the fabric before hauling him closer so I can kiss him. He freezes, and it allows me to trace my tongue along the seam of his lips. In a flash, I’m pressed against his chest and he’s wrapped around me, holding on so tightly, I couldn’t get away if I wanted to.
His hands stay on my back, rubbing and caressing, but I’m not as reserved. I explore his arms and thick neck. When I reach around him, my fingers barely touch. We’re really going to need a bigger bed.
My stomach growls, and he jerks his lips from mine. Stupid body. His eyes are glazed when he looks down at me. “Sorry.”
I feel like Modeus when I say, “I kissed you, don’t apologize.”
“I’m not sorry anyway,” he admits, watching my mouth with hunger that has nothing to do with the need to eat.
I think this one is going to make me bowlegged, and I’m going to love every minute. “So, peanut butter toast? It’s not fancy, but it’s quick,” I offer, thinking there are other things we could be doing.
“Sounds delicious,” he mumbles, and I spin out of his grasp. Before the toast even pops up, I hear Egan descending the stairs. I’m not exactly sad he’s awake, but I was looking forward to spending a little more alone time with Cyrus.
My fallen steps right into my space and lowers his face, expecting a kiss and an explanation. “I fell asleep on the couch, I’m sorry.” One look at his face, and I knew what he was thinking.
“Do you want some toast?” I’m going to need about six more loaves of bread at this rate. He taps my fingers twice. It’s becoming so routine, I didn’t even realize I have my hand over his chest. “Might as well go wake up Modeus, he’s on the couch.”
Egan’s face barely shifts, but I see it—he’s pouting because Modeus slept on the sofa too. I click my tongue. “Don’t complain. You were all stretched out in the bed this morning, and I woke up with stiff knees.”
You should have come to me.I hear it as plain as day, and I chuckle. I’m really starting to wonder if I’m hearing my own thoughts or his.
Egan saunters away, barely acknowledging Cyrus, and I feel the need to explain. “He doesn’t speak…and he takes a bit to warm up to others.”
“You don’t seem to have a problem communicating,” he observes as I place the first two pieces of toast on the plate.
“Nah, I think he’s in my head,” I reply, only partially joking.
Egan
The food is long gone,but we’re still seated at the table. I wonder if the prince wanted to punch me in the face when I showed up as badly as I’d like to deck the gargoyle. He doesn’t even really get on my nerves, but I’m blaming him for why I slept alone last night. The demon is on my shit list too.
I did take the chair next to Lore, and her hand has been rubbing up and down my thigh the entire time, but I’m still pissy. She leans forward and asks, “Who is Adder? You mentioned the name yesterday.”
The bearded man scoots back in his seat, and his eyes narrow. “Harlow never told you?”
“Told her what?” the demon asks, voicing my question.
“About your cousin?”
“My cousin?” Lore’s tone is incredulous. It’s clear she has no idea what the gargoyle is talking about.
“Fuck, I can’t believe he never told you. You have a cousin, Lorelei. He’s older than you.”
Lore rips her hand off my leg and scoots the chair back to stand up. “No I don’t,” she scoffs.
The gargoyle shakes his head slowly. “You do.” There’s conviction in his words, and I’m not the only one who hears it.
Modeus looks at Lore, then Cyrus. “Why would he keep it from her?”
“I’m sure it had to do with Adder’s mother. She’s a witch.”
My heart stops beating, but I don’t think it’s my response. I think it’s Lore’s.
“A witch!” She heaves the word from her chest like a curse.
Cyrus spares us all a glance, but his attention quickly returns to Lore. “What don’t I know?” At least he catches on quickly.
“A witch was involved in Harlow’s death,” Modeus answers. I’m not even sure Lore heard him speak. Her eyes are lowered as if she’s searching the floor for answers.
