“In that case, better put on a good show. I’d hate to disappoint him.”
“Rookisa tough critic—so I’ve heard.”
“The toughest.” She laughs. “But now that he’s here…” She turns toward the tree, where the unmistakable form of a gargoyle has finally begun to emerge.
Flashing him a devilish grin, she says, “Come out of the shadows and play with us, Rook. We’re just getting started.”
But when the gargoyle finally steps into the moonlight and reveals himself, it’s not Rook watching us at all.
It’s Draegan.
And something tells me hedefinitelydoesn’t want to play.
“Draegan!” Westlyn leaps off me and covers her breasts—instinct more than embarrassment, I suspect. “We were just talking about our research, and... um…”
“Oh, for fuck’ssake.” Anger flares in his eyes, his body rigid with it, but he’s not angry at us.
No. He’s angry at the fact that he’s irrevocably turned on and madly in love with her, and too fucking pig-headed to do anything abouteithersituation.
“Did you need something, Drae?” I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation. “Because as you can see, we’re kind of busy with our… research. So if you don’t mind…”
“Oh, really?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Well! Pardon the inconvenient interruption of your so-calledresearch, but believe it or not, some of us actually haveimportantthings to discuss with Miss Avery. Important, mission-critical things that don’t require either party stripping bare beneath a nearly full moon in my apple orchard and rutting each other like a pair of—”
A loud squawk cuts him off, followed by another, and I just about lose my shit at the sight of two ravens chasing a grown-ass gargoyle through the orchard, all the way back to Blackmoor.
“Guess we know whose sidethey’reon,” I say, still laughing when Draegan finally disappears out of sight, undoubtedly locking himself inside.
But when I turn back to West, it’s clear she’s not seeing the humor in this.
In fact, she looks like she wants to tear off Drae’s wings, roast them in the fire, and feed them to him.
I run a hand over her head and sigh. “I’ll go talk to him.”
“No.” She gets to her feet and tugs the sweatshirt back on, covering her beautiful breasts—yetanotherthing I’m adding to the lists of reasons why I’m going to beat Draegan’s ass. Then, with a determined gleam in her eyes, she pushes up her sleeves and says, “I’mgoing. I’ve got a few choice words forDaddyDrae.”
Chapter Thirty-One
DRAEGAN
My bathroom door bangs open with the force of a hurricane, slamming against the wall and rattling the glass shower door.
I’ve got my tail wrapped around my cock, my hands braced against the glass, my muscles tight with the need for release…
And now I’ve got the little mortal standing in the middle my bathroom, hands on her hips, cheeks red with exertion, leaves stuck in her tousled hair, those mesmerizing eyes glaring at me as though she can’twaitto read me the riot act.
The scent of her only winds me tighter—apples and damp earth and rage and the unmistakable tang of lust.
Of all the times to storm the castle, little mortal…
“Bloodyhell, woman,” I growl. “That door was closed for a reason.”
Her gaze roams down the glass, her eyes widening as she undoubtedly realizes what I’ve been up to.
She recovers quickly, schooling her features into a mask of annoyance.
“Oh, you don’t like when someone barges in on you during a private moment and gets all rude about it?” She hops up on the vanity counter, folds her arms over her chest, and continues to glare at me through the glass. Then, with a mocking sneer, “Well! Pardon the inconvenient interruption of your mission-critical shower! Carry on!”
Carry on.Right.
