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“What about me?” a voice says from behind us, and we all turn to see who it is. The guy who was playing the piano is now standing, glaring down at all of his. He’s got to be around the same height as King, and has an uncanny resemblance to him.
“Ah.” Killian shuffles. “I don’t know, Kohen.”
Kohen brings a glass filled with white alcohol to his lips and smirks. “Why not?” My eyes run down his torso. He’s almost identical to King, only no tattoos. I can’t make out much of his face because he’s wearing stage makeup and eyeliner, but he’s definitely got to be related to King. A waiter walks past us, and he swings around, snatching another glass. When he turns, I face the same tattoo the boys and Killian’s mom have, only Kohen’s is massive and fills his entire back. Each tip reaches the edge of his body.
Kohen spins back around and hands me a glass. My eyes go from it to him. “For me?”
Kohen smiles, waving his other hand. “Of course. Rude of these fuckers to not offer you one as soon as you walked through the door.”
I lick my lips and his eyes follow the movement. Slowly, I reach for the glass, my eyes on his. “I’ll stay with Kohen. You boys can leave.”
That seems to satisfy Kohen, who grins proudly, standing back to his full length.
“Little Bird,” Killian murmurs, and in an instant, I watch as Kohen’s face changes. Shock, recognition washes over his beautifully stained features.
“Little Bird?” he asks, only he’s not angry. At least he’s not showing it. He’s… intrigued.
“Fuck,” Killian curses. “Kohen, she needs to stay near us. I’m sure you understand now.” A silent conversation passes between them and I’m left standing in the middle, dumbfounded.
I take a long swig of my drink. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been here for five minutes.”
Kohen reaches for my hand. I find myself allowing my fingers to separate, allowing his to fork between mine. “Come on, Little Bird. Do come meet my parents.”
“Your parents?” I ask, looking up at him as we move through the main foyer and to the sitting room. He reaches out a long-stretched hand to a woman and man who are sitting in chairs that are designed for a king and queen. There are other people in the room, but I’m so distracted by the power that’s radiating off them both that I’m trapped in a trance.
Lost.
In danger, maybe.
“Yes,” Kohen announces. “Mom and Pops!”
Fuck. That must be King’s parents, which means Kohen and King are brothers. Double fuck! I thought King said he was an only child? Or did I imagine that? I must have.
Kohen’s fingers tighten in mine and he turns me around to face him. I can’t breathe. My chest is heaving, his eyes searching deep in mine. “Little Bird,” he whispers like he’s screamed that name one too many times, and I continue to lose myself in his gaze. Where King’s eyes are a burning green, Kohen’s are pitch black. They’re frightening, but there’s a simmer to his fire that I find myself drawn to, like a dumb little bird.
“Do I know you?” I whisper, searching his eyes.
He exhales, running the cushion of his thumb over my bottom lip. “You—”
“Kohen!” King growls from somewhere in the room and I instantly pull away from him, like he’s a flame that’s licked my skin.
I find King instantly and hate myself for needing him to touch me where Kohen had just touched me. Replace what wasn’t someone else’s to touch. Goddammit. When did I become so fucking whipped?
Silence cuts through the air. All of the yapping is silenced. I drag my eyes back to King’s parents. Dahlia is staring right at me. Dark eyes like Kohen’s and long brown hair that looks like she’s put a hair straightener through it one too many times. She’s flawlessly intimidating, and she’s not even spoken a word yet.
“Kingston.” She turns to look at King. “Do I need to ask?”
Kohen shuffles his feet, standing in front of me. “A promise is a promise, Mother.”
What the fuck is going on? I turn around to seek out Killian. When I find he’s watching me closely from behind with Keaton and Kyrin beside him, I calm slightly.
“Hmmm, maybe.” She flicks her nails around. “Dove Noctem. Come forward, please. I would like to get a good look at you.”
I freeze, and then run my hands down my white skinny jeans. Sidestepping away from Kohen, I begin to make my way toward her when Kohen catches my arm. “Dove.” He looks at me, confused, his eyebrows crossed and his forehead marred in confusion. I’d like to see what he looks like without all of the stage makeup, but I’d be lying if I said he didn’t pull it off, looking like a hot deranged pirate.
