Somehow that’s worse.
I grip the edge of the kitchen counter and stare at the wall.
What the hell am I going to do?
I can’t starve him. That’s off the table. I’m not that person. I can’t give him Brian. Also off the table. I’d rather die.
Which leaves one option. The option Dis very calmly laid out for me with those appraising eyes.
I could feed him myself.
The thought makes my heart do something complicated. Fear and attraction and absolute panic mixing together into a feeling I don’t have a name for.
Feeding a shadow being isn’t simple. It’s not just physically going there. It requires genuine emotion. Genuine energy. The kind that comes from wanting or needing or feeling something real.
Which means if I’m going to do this, I can’t fake it. I can’t just go through the motions and hope he gets enough to survive.
I’d have to mean it.
And given that Dis is devastatingly attractive and I have a documented history of losing all sense around hot guys, meaning it might not be the problem.
Not wanting to mean it might be the problem.
I pour myself a glass of wine even though it’s barely seven in the morning. The situation calls for it.
From the living room, there’s still silence. Dis is waiting. Patient. Knowing that eventually I’ll have to come back and give him an answer.
He has all the time in the world.
I have a choice to make.
Release him, and face his wrath. Watch him starve to death and fade. Or… get frisky with him.
Oh hells. How do I get myself into these messes?
Chapter 7
Curiosity Killed the Cat
Istumbledownstairsformyshift at six thirty in the morning, having slept approximately three hours total. My eyes feel like they’ve been rubbed with sandpaper. My brain is operating at about forty percent capacity. I’m running on spite and caffeine and the desperate hope that nothing else will go catastrophically wrong today.
I nearly walk straight into Adam.
“What the hell are you doing here!” I exclaim, taking a step back so fast I almost trip over my own feet.
Adam looks genuinely ashamed. His shoulders hunch slightly, and he does that thing where he won’t quite meet my eyes.
“I do still work here,” he says quietly. “Sometimes. When Hex isn’t whisking me off to Paris or...” He trails off, going slightly pink. “Oh god, I’ve been a terrible coffee shop owner and friend! I’ll do better! I’ll be here more!”
Oh hells.
This is just what I need. Adam being here more often, being a responsible business owner, when I have a furious shadow king trapped in my flat directly above us.
Hex can’t stay away from Adam. I’ve seen how they are together. The way Hex materialises out of shadows just to bring Adam snacks he didn’t ask for. The way his red eyes track Adam’s every movement like he’s the most fascinating thing in any realm. The casual touches, the protective hovering, the absolute inability to be separated for more than a few hours.
Which means Hex will come here. Probably today. Possibly within the hour.
And Hex will sense something. I’m sure of that. I’m not sure what his reaction will be.
