Aspen cradled the chocolate. “Not a chance.”
“Rude. I’m the host.”
Ignoring him, Aspen offered the container to Nicu, who also made a contented noise as he drank. At the reverberation, Lyrik shifted in his seat. Too keenly, he averted his gaze.
After licking his lips and passing the vessel back to Aspen, Nicu countered, “The treehouses are the hosts. You’re the seneschal.”
Lyrik slanted his attention back to my liege. “You got me there.”
They watched one another. Then Lyrik changed the subject in the same way Lyrik changed all subjects. He slouched and slapped his palm on the bench. “So between us, who’s got the least experienced sex history?”
Not a shred of discretion. I might as well be reveling with certain members of the clan. Not least of all, the woman beside me.
I sighed, Aspen raised a brow, and Nicu flushed twelve different shades of red that complimented his ribbon bracelet. This, despite him being the son of the most erotic male specimen on the continent. Nicu knew little of Poet’s prolific past, even if everyone else in The Dark Seasons did.
“Let’s see.” Lyrik pointed at my glowering face. “Mid-thirties, hot as fuck, and armed to the teeth. Answer’s clear.” He pointed at himself. “Plus, me. That disqualifies two of us.”
“Three, actually,” Aspen corrected.
My retinas singed. Really, I hadn’t needed a reminder of this goddamn fact.
I snatched a log and flung it into the pit, launching a riot of sparks that vaulted to the trees. While I wanted nothing more than to ease her private burdens, addressing the topic of Aspen’s sex life wasn’t my preferred fucking route.
Because I fed the blaze with too much enthusiasm, three faces glanced my way as I wiped my hands.
“Christ.” Lyrik brushed soot off his coat. “What happened to your knightly restraint? You don’t need to burn the fucking terrace down just because you’re jealous.”
“Lyrik,” Nicu scolded. “That’s a hush.”
“No, it’s not. It’s not personal or private or secret. Not if they make it obvious.”
“He’s not jealous,” Aspen insisted.
“I am not covetous,” I barked.
Lyrik groaned, amplifying to the treetops, “Enough with the horse shit. Nobody’s got the patience for it!” He swatted his arm between Aire and me. “You’re hard for her. You’re wet for him. And from that territorial alpha look—” then he regarded Aspen, “—plus your refusal to humor his possessive side, I’d say your pussy and his dick have already met. So since this won’t be the first time, pick up the pacing and either iron out whatever residual shit is lingering between you two, or rage-fuck the tension out of each other already.”
Lyrik’s head hovered in slicing distance. However, before I could separate his skull from his neck, a hand thwacked across the back of his scalp.
“Ow,” he growled, twisting toward Nicu. “What the fuck?”
“They’re my friends,” he reproached. “Leave them alone.”
The authority in his tone left no room for debate. Lyrik’s hand dropped, and he reclined farther back as if to view Nicu better. “All right, then.”
Not all right. I tamped down the rancor clawing across my flesh and let my glare speak for itself.
Aspen merely regarded Lyrik with an unimpressed expression. She would strike him with her axe long before my sword made an appearance.
Embers scattered into the air, and some unidentified mammal howled. So began the most indiscreet supper thus far. Lyrik might have been offensive, but none of us could say he’d been wrong.
The consistency of buttered yams congealed on my tongue. At some point, plates clattered. Footfalls shuffled from the platform, and a musical voice faded down the stairway, Lyrik and Nicu disappearing somewhere deep within the enclave.
Flames twitched in the darkness. Aspen’s breathing roared in my ears like a tempest, unbridled and uncontrollable.
We rose at the same time. Call it fate or coincidence. But any second, I would seize Aspen and never fucking let go.
Confide in me. Tell me your worries. Let me be your refuge.
