As Kaison offers me his arm, his eyes glinting with a promise of mischief and mayhem, I can't help but wonder if it's already too late.
“You seem to be feeling better.” Kaison smirks, propping his hip against a chest of drawers in the sitting room.
I want to tell him he’s wrong, but I can’t deny that my mood has improved. After another night at work, I forced him to stop at an all-night cafe so I could get a massive pumpkin spice latte and a slice of pumpkin spice sweet bread while we took the long way to my apartment through the graveyard.
Autumn is the best freakin’ time of year and I come alive in these conditions, whether in Midnight or Boston.
Then I filled a backpack with my favorite pumpkin spice candles, my cozy fall sweaters, and some art supplies.
If I have to live in Midnight, I might as well make myself comfortable. And I feel infinitely better with my plushy of the Grim Reaper. You can turn it inside out and it turns into Anubis, the of the Dead. I change my little Grim back and forth based on my mood.
We got to the castle with no one the wiser. We stayed up all night only to return to a flurry of activity as the day in Midnight began.
I was swept away to the dress designers where I had to stand for hours on end while they took measurements and tested different fabrics.
Then I was forced to sit through an interminable history lesson, followed by some boring meetings about philanthropic event planning, while being told approximately one million times my job was to serve Midnight as its future Queen.
Though every fairy who tried to get those words out choked on them a little.
Now we’re dressed and prepped to attend a banquet in our honor.
Tonight is going to be a bitch. But to be fair, so am I.
“I would have never guessed you to go for such a cliche.” Kaison crosses his arms over his chest.
I give him my best death glare. “Don’t be a counter-culture snob. You only hate pumpkin spice because it’s popular.”
He shrugs. “It just seems like people make a lot of fuss in the Common World over the fall season and certain flavors.”
His backpedaling is not going to get him out of this. “First off,” I hold up a finger. “I know you meanwomenmake a lot of fuss. Second,” I raise another finger, “The world, no matter what realm you are in, can be a truly shitty place. Don’t shame me for finding enjoyment in my hyperfixation. And the fact that it’s popular? Well, how dare you enjoy blood, because, like,everybodyin Midnight is into that. It’ssooverdone that you come off as a thoughtless sheep.”
Eyes sparkling, his lips twitch as he tries and fails to suppress a smile. He raises his hands. “I surrender. Forgive me for besmirching the joy that is spiced anything, and may you flog me should I do it again.”
I lift my chin in what I hope comes off as haughty indignation. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Oh, I think I might,” he says in a low husk.
There is something impossibly. . . impossible about Prince Charming.
There is an ebb and flow to our banter that I can’t but help get a spark of enjoyment from.
And then there was the way his hard body submitted under mine allowing me to achieve pleasure in a way I’d never known possible.
A lusty fog rolls through my mind before drifting south. I sharply inhale through my nose, trying to mitigate the effect he has on me.
“I do have to warn you, my dark princess, this dinner is going to be unbearably boring,” he says dryly. “In fact, it promises to be so stifling and pretentious that we very well may die.”
“Fantastic,” I say in a flat voice. “Can’t wait.”
“Which is why,” he draws out the last word like an excited kid, “I thought we could have a little fun.” From his pocket, hepulls out a pair of dark purple panties that are strappy, lacy, and have something heavier set against the crotch.
“What are those?”
The question is out before I can stop myself.
Kaison looks back and forth between me and the scrap of fabric.
“Why, my darling bride, these are the answer to surviving a night of dull nonsense and barely restrained dismay.”
