Because without his shirt, no one can tell he’s already been shot.
The triplets raise their guns the same time the five approaching men do, but I leave mine down, content to watch the overkill in action. The poor man down on his luck seems to sense the danger a second later, throwing his hands up in surrender since there’s no chance of getting to his gun in time or escaping.
“Already been hit,” he implores, but it dawns on him quickly no one will believe him while the evidence lays crumpled at his feet.
“Nice try, Linc,” one of the newcomers gloats before all eight men unleash a barrage on the poor guy, laughter filling the air as guns click empty.
Linc is a living, breathing work of abstract art by the time they’re finished with him, the rain finally starting to taper off as the time drags on. A harsh gust blows my hood back as an ominous rumble forces everyone to jerk their heads up.
Emerald scales catch the dim glow from the lightning striking, the storm changing course to move away from town. He’s about twenty feet long by a quick estimate, and by the dark red eyes locked on us, it’s clearly Vyrian. So much of his character transferred forms with him; clearly lethal if he wanted to be, but a laid back air that’s at odds with something so massive.
Straddling his neck is a familiar form, and though she’s too far away to make out her features, I can practicallyfeelthe satisfaction rolling off of her.
Yri dives lower and Ezra upends a bucket of paint, coating all of us in one fell swoop. “Red team wins.”
Sputtering, I swipe at my face, literally coming away red handed. My laughter mingles with hers as they slip away, landing a few buildings over on the rooftop. My stomach actually hurts from the force of it, and soon I’m gasping for breath as I catch sight of a few of the men just comically gaping at each other like they don’t know how to process how things changed so suddenly.
I doubt I’ll be able to wash all of the paint out of my hair in less than a week, and I’m likely going to wake up tomorrow with a cold, but I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve been this happy. And for the first time, I choose not to search out a reason to ruin it, to let this feeling die prematurely as I wait for the other shoe to drop.
I just let myself be content, and it’s a feeling I could easily become addicted to.
Chapter 16
Saige
––––––––
“Oh fuck, don’t stop,” I beg, tightening my fingers in his hair.
With the next roll of his tongue, that grip is the only thing keeping me standing, his palm on my stomach adding an extra bit of support. Kaiden rises from his kneeling position between my legs, slinging my leg over his shoulder and lifting me with him as he does. My back slides against the wall as we rise and never once does he cease devouring me.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, angel,” he growls and the vibration makes me whimper.
Free hand groping for something to brace myself on and finding nothing, my feeble, human nails don’t even make a scratch. I bite my fist instead, struggling to keep my voice down. His palm slides beneath my bare thigh over my ass, tightening his grip as I start to come. Bucking against him, he pivots, throwing me down on the bed and I growl in frustration, pushing myself up on my elbows to glare at him.
“Why do you hate me?”
