Page 90 of Smoke, Mirrors, & Misdemeanours

She smiled. “. . . A long time coming?”

He dropped his head to her shoulder and let out a half-groan, half-chuckle. He didn’t let her go. She hadn’t moved either, still perched on his lap.

“You touched my horn,” he whispered, looking up.

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. “And when I did, you made that sound.”

“What sound?”

“The one that made me do it again.”

Ark stared at her. Something behind his golden eyes shifted—a last thread of composure, pulled taut to snapping.

He moved before she finished breathing. His good hand caught the back of her neck, claws pressing into her skin just enough for her to feel every single one. He dragged her mouth to his—barely controlled. The kiss of a demon who’d kept himself leashed for days and was now letting the chain slip, link by agonizing link. A growl hummed against her lips—low, possessive, vibrating through her teeth and settling somewhere at the base of her spine. His claws tightened in her hair, and she gasped into his mouth. He swallowed the sound like it belonged to him.

He urged her down until she lay flat on the sofa, him on top of her. She kissed him back with everything she had, and he kissed her like she was a secret he didn’t want to give back. His magic still hummed in the place where he’d marked her—a pulse that answered with every beat of her heart.

Her fingers found the edge of his collar, his skin blazing beneath it, and she was about to pull him impossibly closer when⁠—

A yowl pierced the air, followed by a furious scratch-scratch-scratch at the front door.

Cassia blinked, disoriented. Ark pulled back.

A second yowl—longer, indignant, like someone had just insulted him to his face.

Anuck.

She groaned, head falling onto the cushion. “I swear he has the worst timing.”

Ark didn’t respond right away. The warmth and softness had vanished from his expression. He was staring at the door, shoulders stiffening. The scratching stopped, and the silence was somehow worse. It wasn’t the hush of a cat settling, but an ominous warning.

Slowly, he lifted himself off her. The man was gone, replaced by the strategist, his gaze razor-sharp and fixed on the door.

Anuck was still there—back arched, ears pinned flat, his tail a bristled spear. A low, continuous growl vibrated through the room, a sound she’d never heard him make before. Cassia’s heart gave a slow, uneasy beat.

Softly, Ark murmured, “Something’s out there.”

22

ARK

Ark eased the door open just enough to let the cold slide in. Shadows spilled over the threshold. Stillness met him, a silence so complete it felt unnatural.

Then—motion. Anuck darted through the gap like a streak of black smoke, gone before Ark could react. No sound, no hesitation, just a blur of fur and muscle vanishing into the dark. He swore under his breath. Power sparked to his fingertips, ready to lash out.

He turned. Cassia stood framed in the firelight, but the soft, pleasure-rumpled woman from the sofa was gone. She was already shrugging on her coat, then tugging on her boots, her movements jerky. Her expression was all sharpened focus and ferocious determination.

“Stay inside,” he told her. “I’ll investigate⁠—”

“No.” The word was absolute. “I need to check the bakery. To make sure.”

“Cassia—”

“That bakery and Starlight are my mother’s legacy.” Her voice cracked—raw, desperate, a sound he’d never heard from her before. “She poured her life into them. I’m already losing one. I’m not staying here if something’s happening to other.” She rose to full height, her burning gaze locking with his. “I’m coming with you.”

He held her stare, then nodded. “Let’s go.”

They stepped out into the cold. Ark murmured a spell under his breath as they crossed the yard. A protective barrier flared to life over Cassia’s house—not Caius’s level of craftsmanship, but enough to hold until they returned.