Page 65 of Third Offense


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“Maybe you’re waking up on a routine?” I offered.

“I’m not.”

“Then maybe the clock is broken.” I shrugged. “Either way, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“You would say that as I assume you’re behind this madness.”

I gaped at him. He couldn’t be serious. “You think I’ve somehow put you on a repetitive schedule on purpose? To what gain?”

“I don’t know!” he snapped, throwing up his arms. “I can’t figure it out, but I seem to be the only one noticing the repetition. Novak and Layla are in this blissful state of ignorance, just repeating the motions and enjoying themselves. Sorin and Zian keep having fucking beach parties with Raven, which is a huge red flag in itself. They’re not the sort to relax in this situation. They’d be suspicious and questioning everything. Just as Novak should be.”

“So the normalcy of this life is what’s concerning you,” I translated.

“It’s more than normalcy,” he bit out, his feathers beginning to flutter with his growing annoyance. “I can’t explain it. But something is wrong. Which you clearly know and the whole point of this is to just distract me from it.” He shook his head, his hands falling to his hips as he glanced downward. “I shouldn’t have followed you up here.”

“First, I promise you that I have nothing to do with any of this,” I insisted. “And second, if your instincts are saying something is off, then… then you’re probably right. But maybe it’s my presence, or all the information you’ve learned this week. It’s a lot to take in…”

I trailed off, unsure of how to continue that, because I meant what I said. I was a firm believer in listening to one’s instincts, and this male had lived a long time. From what I knew about him from Sayir’s reports—which he’d been providing to Layla’s parents for years—Auric was a respected Nora commander, having been Novak’s boss at one point. Sorin’s and Zian’s, too.

Which meant his instincts were sharply honed, and if something was nagging at him, then it was worth looking into.

It could be as simple as all the change leaving him unsettled.

Or it could be something else entirely.

His commentary about Novak going with the flow irked me a bit, only because it seemed to me that if Auric sensed something was off, then Novak should, too. That right there rung as a potential disconnect.

Along with his comments on Netiri. “When she’s flirting with you, in what way do you mean?” I asked. “Netiri, I mean,” I clarified since I’d changed the subject.

“She keeps touching me,” he growled, sounding quite frustrated. “This morning, she ran her fingers down my spine, like she had a right to stroke me.” He shuddered, clearly not over the sensation.

I could understand that. The center of the back was an extremely intimate location on an angel, something Netiri definitely knew.

“Yesterday it was my arm,” he continued. “The day before, she cupped my cheek as I was leaving with my tray of food. A tray forLayla. Which I told her, but she seemed completely unfazed by it.”

“That doesn’t sound like Netiri at all,” I admitted.

He snorted. “So you don’t believe me.”

“No, I’m saying that doesn’t sound like the Netiri I know,” I responded, considering everything he’d said. “She leaves you alone at dinner.”

“Yes. When in front of others.”

“I see,” I murmured, considering his comment. “What if I joined you for breakfast tomorrow?”

He arched a brow. “Which brings me to a question, where have you been every day, all day?” he countered, ignoring my suggestion.

“As I said, I’ve been staying elsewhere,” I reminded him. “I’ve only come by in the evening, but I do have a guest suite. I could stay tonight, set my alarm for eight, and meet you in the kitchen by nine. And observe what happens.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a convenient way to coax me into playing whatever game this is, or a genuine offer.”

“Well, I suppose you’ll find out in the morning,” I told him. Just like I’d find out if there was any truth to his claims. At least in terms of the clock. I suspected Netiri would be on her best behavior if she found us both in the kitchen. Which gave me an idea. “You said Netiri comes in while you’re in the kitchen. Around what time?”

“Three after nine. Every morning,” he said immediately. And the preciseness of his response sent a little sliver of unease down my spine because it meant he truly believed these incidents were reoccurring. But we’d handle that after I observed some of it.

“All right. I’ll come by around five-to-ten after, see if I can catch her flirting with you,” I said. Not that there was anything wrong with flirting, but Netiri should know better than to taunt a mated male.

Especially one tied to the Noir Princess.