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“To heal your sarcasm. I know you said it was terminal but… Zyla is Grand High Witch and her magic should be nearly as strong as Callum’s and—”
A full body snort bursts out of me, and I slap my hand to my mouth to contain the obnoxious laughter.
He grunts. “Why are you laughing? You’re sick and this vial could heal you.”
“Uh.” I cough and try to stop laughing. “Sorry.” Nope. I laugh again but manage to say, “I don’t think this will heal the sarcasm.”
“It won’t hurt to try, right?”
This is the sweetest, strangest, and most adorable thing I’ve ever had done for me. I’m not even sure he’d believe me if I explained that sarcasm isn’t really a sickness. I take the vial and uncork it. At first sniff, it’s sweet and lemony. I guess it could be worse. I down it like a shot and hum in approval as warmth blooms in my throat and spreads to my chest. Well, whatever happens with the sarcasm, at least the medicine was great.
“Better?” His voice is full of cautious hope.
“I think it’s too soon to tell.” I pat his arm and place the vial on the ground. There are so many magical people wandering around. No one has green skin or tusks. They all actually look like humans. They’re different in their own way, but they’re definitely not monsters. More than a few glance at us with open curiosity. They want to know more, and as a matter of fact, so do I.
I hardly know anything about my grumpy ogre. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Red,” he says without missing a beat and my stomach flutters. “You?”
“Navy blue.” It used to be purple.
His fingers stroke over my abdomen and I discreetly press my thighs together. I remember all too well what those hands can do.
“Tell me your happiest memory.” I run my palm over his forearm and the bumpy ridges of his blue veins. Veins have no right being so damn attractive.
“What are you doing, Daisy?”
My smile falls. He used my real name. “Trying to get to know you.” I shrug. “You’re my mate. It stands to reason I should know things about you.”
He remains silent.
Disappointment spreads through my chest and makes me want to flee. “Never mind. It was dumb.”
“My mother took me and my sisters to the sea once. We spent the day playing in the waves and basking in the sun. My father wasn’t there.”
His happiest memory is one without his father.
“Your turn,” he whispers in my ear.
I shiver and melt deeper into his hold. His fingers flex on my stomach and all I can think about is that touch and not the fact that I’m not sure if I have a happiest memory. Whose dumb idea was it to play 21 questions?
“Daisy?”
“I… I guess one of my happiest memories is eating cake with Edgar.” On my first day, I brought him chocolate cake. He’d been so grumpy even though he was the one who put out the ad. Eventually the cake won him over and the rest is history. I try not to think about my family or the number of bad memories that race through my mind.
Orcus doesn’t respond or tell me that can’t be true, instead he says, “I wish I could take that agony from your chest and destroy it.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him.
“You’re lying.”
“Maybe,” I whisper. “My parents were fine.”
“But?”
“They never said I love you and they never hugged me.” I cringe. God, I sound like such a baby.
“Then they’re fools.” Orcus’ lips brush over the shell of my ear. “Because you’re nothing short of amazing.”
