Page 75 of Heir of the Beast

Those are not famous last words.

I take a large pin out of my hair, and the top half comes tumbling down my back. My hair is long, reaching to my butt. I have always been proud of it.

“I’ll take that,” he groans as his eyes seem to come to life, making me nervous. It’s like preparing fresh meat in front of a hungry lion. The way he is looking at me, I might as well be naked.

“Your turn.”

He smiles wide. “I’d love to play. What are you hiding still?”

I roll my eyes. “Try again.”

He leans up against a large leather sofa, and he thinks. “How far back can you remember from your life?”

I stop and ponder that. In my real life, my memories start late for some reason, maybe I had trauma? But my earliest memory is about six years old, and I do not know why.

I can’t remember my mother or anything to do with my youngest years. It’s probably not a big deal, but it does bother me that I cannot remember anything from when I was four or five.

“Angel?”

“Oh,” I laugh, “I can’t remember much, just my time being a slave. Maybe it will come back to me someday.”

“Maybe,” he says suspiciously.

“Take something off,” I order. This is probably—most likely—not a good idea, my brain warns. But I’m not listening at the moment. Please leave a message after the ~beeeeeep~.

Apollo stands up straight, and with one swift movement, he removes his dress shirt. He stands in a tight black body-armor undergarment that hugs every ripple and bulge of his torso. I swallow.

He is insanely beautiful. Like, if GQ and Sports Illustrated had a magazine baby, he’d be their cover star.

He is grinning again. “Your turn, Angel.”

I lick my lips, my mouth dry. “What is your favorite childhood memory?”

His eyes widen. “Childhood memory?”

I grin. “Yes, Apollo. You were once a non-jaded little boy, weren’t you?”

He leans back against the couch, his muscles bulging as he crosses his arms.

“My mother became ill when I was about twelve or so. So my father and I set out on an epic journey to find the rare flower that only blossoms at the top of mount Urnon. It was just us two, no guards.

“We camped under the open stars, cooked food by the fire, and he shared stories of our ancestors. It was the best adventure for a young lad to experience, something I have not thought of in a long while.”

He stares at his feet as if he is reliving the precious memory.

“How long?”

“It took us seven days, and my mother returned to her full health,” he says, and looks up at me. “Take off two things, my lady.”

“Two?!”

He smiles, and I can almost see the young boy he used to be. “You asked two questions.”

I huff, making him chuckle. If he weren’t so insanely sexy, I would tell him to go to hell, but seeing how I’m affected by my vain womanly parts, I will oblige. “I need help.”

Apollo jumps up and is behind me faster than I can process what I’m doing. I feel his fingers on the back of my neck, and I close my eyes.

I feel him unbutton one, then two.

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