Page 134 of Aryn

“We could stay in bed all day—”

“Deal,” he interrupts, already half-asleep again.

I laugh and kiss his temple. “As tempting as that is, there are some rather important things happening today. I think the others would come looking for us.”

“Yeah,” he mumbles into my chest. “I guess they would.”

“Look at your arm,” I tell him softly. His eyes open and find mine before drifting to the mark. He sits up, turning so it’s illuminated by the sunlight.

He runs his fingers along the red skin, tracing the shape with open awe. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

I press a kiss to the bite on his shoulder. “Another mark to add to your collection.”

He wraps his fingers around my tail and tugs it in front of his face, inspecting my mark with a grin. “Guess my smooth talking worked, then.”

“It was the smoothest,” I agree with a barely maintained serious expression.

“Damn straight. If anyone ever asks you how my love confession went, that’s how you’ll tell the story.”

I chuckle as I climb out of bed and shiver against the chilly morning air. “Don’t worry. In my tales, you will always be suave and sure-tongued.”

“I’ll show you sure-tongued,” he mutters. When I turn my back, he sucks in a sharp breath and scrambles to follow me. He drags his palms down my spine, barely touching my skin. “Fuck, I clawed you up good last night. Did I hurt you?”

My lips tug into a slight smile at the memory of the burn of his fingernails and the squeeze of those strong hands on my hips. “In the best way,” I answer as he presses a kiss to the base of my neck. He steps around to my front, checking my hips for bruises, but pauses when he sees what the attention is doing to me.

“Don’t look so scandalized,” I tease, gripping his wrist and guiding him closer. “I did warn you I like it rough.”

“You did,” he agrees as his arms band around my waist. His fingers dance over my skin, toying with the base of my tail in a way that makes me shiver.

“Careful,” I warn. “We don’t have time for you to start something you can’t finish.”

He hums as he leans in to kiss me. “That sounds like a challenge. Did you forget you just told me the secret to finishing you faster?” He traces the scratches on my back with a smirk. “Maybe next time I’ll bite you back.”

I nip at his lip, thrilled when his eyes shutter. “Always with the promises,” I murmur. I’m half a second away from bending him over the bed when voices carry from the hallway. Cameron’s familiar twang rises over Ronan’s deeper rumblings as they pass, and I sigh as my forehead drops to his shoulder.

“Rain check?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

“Only if you intend to keep it.”

“It’s a date, darlin’,” he whispers into my ear as he places a kiss there. It’s so sweet I reconsider being late for breakfast, if for no other reason than to show him how much I appreciate the way he trusts me with his affections.

Cato follows me into the bathroom as we wash our faces and brush our teeth, and I’m struck by the simple intimacy of the moment.

It’s something I thought I’d never have again.

I help him dress, my hands lingering on his skin as I adjust his shirt. He teases me about being a mother hen, but he lets me do it with a fond smile. We step out into the hallway and are led to breakfast with the others in a private dining hall.

The table is already laid out with a generous spread. Platters of fresh-baked hearty breads sit beside bowls of soft cheeses, roasted root vegetables drizzled in herb oil, and thick slices of blackened meat. There are also sweet cakes and bowls of spiced porridge for those who prefer something warmer. Steaming mugs of vark wait at each setting, and I fight my smile as Cato scowls at his. He never acquired a taste for the bitter drink.

I pass him a glass of water instead as we settle in with the others. Brihn and Galdren are huddled close and talking quietly, and they’re surrounded by the rest of our crew who are already eating. I fill Cato’s plate with the things I know he’ll love—a thick slice of bread spread with cheese, some berries, and a generous portion of meat. When he reaches for his fork, I nudge his hand aside and lift a piece of bread to his lips instead.

“Open.”

Cato gives me a look that’s half exasperated, half amused, but he opens his mouth and lets me feed him. After he swallows, I fight the instinct to care for him, but it’s a losing battle. A few minutes later, I offer him a bite of the sweet cake, then a spoonful of porridge. Each time he accepts it with a knowing smirk, letting me dote on him without protest.

The others notice, of course—some more loudly than others.

Cameron flashes a catty smile around his glass of water. “You two are disgustingly domestic this morning,” he says as Ronan sniffs loudly, puffing his chest out like he’s offended that Cameron paid attention to someone besides him.