"Rhyden." He looked over at her at the sound of her voice, seeing her wide eyes slowly filling with disbelief, like she couldn’t believe her high and mighty Hunter’s Guild was a facade. "I have an invitation."
"Well… fuck me."
9
GAMES
Cyrus was lying in bed, envisioning all the things he wanted to do to Vesperin tonight, when shouting echoed from the hall. He sat up so quickly his head spun. The cold air brushed over his bare chest as he walked to the door and threw it open, only to stop as he saw the sight beyond.
Lucien’s hand was outstretched, vines with long thorns caging Rhyden against the wall. Flames licked at the vines, turning them to ash.
Rhyden stepped away, embers popping off his skin. "I let you into my fucking home, and you have the nerve to attack me like this? You have another thing coming if you think I’ll roll over andtake it."
"You can’t keep putting her in harm’s way." More vines curled around Lucien’s hands.
Cyrus stepped into the hall, but they didn’t even look at him—Vesperin did, though.
Her wide, grey eyes found his. Her jacket was unzipped, revealing the form-fitting top beneath it. He saw the outline of her nipples through the fabric. His cock twitched.
As his eyes dropped to her shoes and the double-knotted laces, he saw the flecks of blood splattered on the soles.
His sultry grin fell.
"What happened, doll?" Cyrus held out an arm, beckoning her.
She shook her head, forcing herself between the two raging assholes who ruined Cyrus’s daydreaming. But was it really a daydream if it was nighttime?
"Enough!" Vesperin snapped. "You guys have to stop fighting all the time. This is getting ridiculous!"
The wide, dark halls seemed to grow smaller from the tension between them.
Lucien stared at a sconce on the windowless walls, then passed a hand over his face. He was squinting without his glasses. "He took you to a goddamned illegal trade. You could have been killed!"
"I wasn’t. I can stand up for myself, Lucien. Listen—I love you." Vesperin’s voice shook, cheeks going pink as the three of them stared at her, making Cyrus wonder where the pretty blonde Soul Searcher was—he always missed the fun. She continued, "But you have to stop treating me like a child. You may own my Soul, but you seem to forget"—her eyes met each of theirs—"I own yours, too."
"I’m trying. For you, Vesperin, I’m trying. For so long, it’s just been me and—Kiton," Lucien said, bowing his head.
"Now it’s not, and we’re all learning." She reached for him, taking his hands.
Cyrus didn’t want to be ignored any longer. He walked forward and threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her away from them. Her cheek bumped into his bare chest, and he bit back a moan. He was famished.
"What’s this all about anyway? It tastes like trouble out here. Woke me up."
"We went to get some fresh air," Rhyden said, making Lucien scoff. Vesperin narrowed her eyes at him. "And we ran into a little trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" Cyrus pressed his face into Vesperin’s hair, smelling thick city fog and smoke. "Did you walk into a burning building?"
"No, we walked out of one. Rhyden set the warehouse on fire—there were too many bodies," she muttered darkly.
Cyrus stiffened in shock. He’d only been teasing her, but he realized he scented more than just smoke. The iron tang of blood. Beneath it, her emotions were colored with sadness and anger.
A portal sparked open at the end of the hall, light twisting in shadows. The Soul Searcher stepped through. His face was shrouded in darkness beneath his hood.
"You always arrive at the perfect time," Cyrus quipped. "So tell me everything that happened. Why do you taste so sad, doll?" He wrapped his arms around her and rocked them side to side, hearing her make a faint gasp from how tightly he held her.
"Don’t crush her to death," Lucien said tiredly.
Cyrus loosened his hold. "I have no interest in crushing her. Her enemies, though…"
