Page 91 of Veil of Night & Flames

Once we’re inside, Chase closes the door behind us, and there we are. The three of us in Chase’s tiny studio, the morning bright outside the windows, the fridge humming in the little kitchen, and the sofa bed open with tangled sheets and pillows.

I look away quickly, trying to shove down my seriously overactive and prurient imagination

As I stand there like an idiot, Chase heads to the kitchen and unfastens the holster for his blade, then sets it on the kitchen counter. By the table, Adric takes off his jacket and throws it casually over a chair before going to check out the clippings taped to Chase’s wall—news stories about various mare attacks, and most connected by colored string. A set-up that Tia calls Conspiracy Theory Chic.

I stand there and try to decide if I’m a wimp, or if I really have the kind of courage both of these men are always telling me I have. Granted, their encouragement has always been in another context, but right now—as I’m dancing around something that is either brilliant or stupid—I’ll take whatever courage I can get.

Thus bolstered, I head for Chase, then slide into his arms and kiss him long and deep. “Morning,” I whisper, then push gently back, my hand flat against his chest as I turn just enough to see that Adric’s watching, his attention on me rather than the colored string.

In for a penny.

And so I kiss Chase again.

He grins, but I also see the question in his eyes. “And good morning to you, too,” he says. Then adds, “Care to tell me what’s up?” because apparently he knows me well.

“I just—well, can I ask you something weird?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Good. Great. Thanks.”

“Cora?”

I glance over my shoulder to where Adric stands, his attention now more on us than Chase’s wall art.

“It’s just—okay, the thing is—I mean…” I draw in another breath, then talk fast. “Do you feel anything now? From the bond with Adric, I mean.”

“From the bond?” he repeats.

“Yeah. I mean, I know you both feel it when we… I trail off with a little sideways nod of my head. “You know.”

“I do know,” he says, and I hear both heat and humor in his voice.

“Is it an all the time thing? Do you feel it now?”

He looks at me for a long beat. Then his eyes flick to where Adric is standing by the front window, watching us.

Chase looks back at me, then shrugs. “Mostly it’s quiet. He’s curious. And a bit envious. You came first to me. Plus, this place holds much of you,” he adds, and he’s right. I have textbooks here and clothes in a basket by the sofa.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

I ignore the question, then turn to look at Adric. “Hi.”

His lips twitch. “Hello, Beloved.”

“I’m going to do something.”

He tilts his head in the way he does when he finds something intriguing. “By all means, Beloved,” he says, clearly fighting a laugh.

I leave Chase and cross to Adric, standing close and cupping my palm against his jaw.

“Tell me what you feel.”

“You,” he says, and some of that amusement fades as heat rises in those silver eyes.

I slide closer and kiss him, warm and deep, and in a heartbeat, I’m no longer running this show. Instead, his hand finds the small of my back, and he pulls me against him, fast and certain and hard, his want rising to meet my own.

I force myself to pull back, breathless. But I don’t move out of his arms.