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This monster had.
"Thank you," I murmured.
Thick russet lashes blinked in confusion, and Asterion's dark eyes crossed as I leaned in, pressing my small mouth to his wide bottom lip. A cold wet drop of rain struck the back of my neck, and then massive arms surrounded my back, barely holding.
Sheltering.
I pulled away and stared at him again, waited for those arms to tighten, for the mouth to press and demand. Instead, the heavy lashes batted.
"Tell me your name," Asterion murmured.
Hadn't I? Hadn't he asked Lillian? But names were important, and this minotaur would want mine granted freely.
"Evanthia," I said.
More rain landed, faster and sharper now, cutting into my hair.
Asterion's lips curled and he whispered my name, nodding. "Théa, goddess. Come inside now. This storm looks unforgiving."
* * *
The minotaur did not press closer.He didn't take my arm and lead me to a bed or a floor. He didn't even offer what we both must know I needed totrulyrecover. We sat across from one another at a small table in my suite, Marius and Lillian on either side, and atedinner.
I tried to put the words on my tongue. I'd been a whore, a courtesan, a seductress, and a lover so many times in my life, in so many variations, but I was at a loss now. Had I forgotten how to invite passion during my time in Birsha's cage, too used to being a tool or a toy to be broken?
The table was small to fit into my quarters and Asterion made it appear even more so, his broad frame hunched toward his plate. He dragged little bites of roasted duck through a green sauce and lifted it on a fine silver fork to his mouth. It was almost comical. He had the body of a beast, as Isabel had called it, but the manners of a diminutive debutante.
"Do the young women staying here cook these meals?" I asked.
Asterion shook his head slowly, the gold on his horns glinting with the candlelight. "I gave the house elves glamoured aprons. Don't tell Isabel." His lashes shrouded his high cheeks as he glanced down.
"You give her too much power in your own house," Marius said, his fine jaw raised high.
"I have many houses," Asterion murmured, continuing to eat. "And Isabel is earnest in her care of the women. That's all that matters."
As if the mention of her name could conjure her, a sharp, ringing voice called from downstairs. "No, you're not to be here!"
Asterion sighed and set down his fork without so much as a clink of sound. He was so gentle with every object and person around him, I wondered how he'd ever managed to convince Birsha to let him into The Seven Veils.
"Excuse me while I handle Conall," Asterion said.
I sat up straighter at the mention of the Red Wolf. I'd learned a little about him from Lillian. He was considered a king ofallwerewolves rather than a single pack, and never belonged to any of the houses that catered human flesh to monster's sexual appetites. He hated Birsha's influence over other werewolves, which had brought him to helping Asterion. She also mentioned that Marius found him tiresome and ill-mannered.
I'd only spent a little time in his company, but he'd been like a wick of flame, alluring and lively. His smile promised trouble and his stare called to my heartbeat, coaxing it to quicken the blood in my veins.
"He's too tolerant," Marius said as Asterion paced to the door.
"Maybe," Lillian said, her lips curling. "Or maybe you're a snob."
The basilisk laughed softly, a hiss in the sound. He leaned back in his chair and for the moment, I was forgotten as he stared at the other woman. "In my defense, I keep the best company in my own home." Lillian hummed and took a bite of food, and I swear I saw the snake's cheeks flush. "Ourhome."
"I've had enough," Isabel snapped from the hall.
"I have important information," Conall drolled. "What am I supposed to do? Send pigeons?"
"You're supposed to stayoutsideof the house."
"Hishouse."
