Page 76 of Heir

Drak’s phone pinged, and he glanced down at it, the corners of his mouth dropping into a deep frown. “Never mind. They have agreed to wait until you are ready.” He fixed his gaze on me, but it remained deadpanned.

Whatever, you stupid bat.

I was looking out for my mate. Full stop. If his allegiance was still to his king, then he was just going to make mating with Omaera that much more challenging and delayed for himself. He needed to make her his first, and only, priority. Just like I was.

“Perfect! No stupid High Council meeting to bring me down before a game.” She brought down five mugs from the cupboard, then glared at Drak. “Because I am going.”

“Then I will escort you,” he said.

She laughed humorlessly. “Not fucking happening there, Fangs. I want some space from all of you. I need it. You’re smothering me when all I want right now is some time with my best friend. Some time for us to grieve Delia.”

Drak’s nostrils flared, and he looked like was trying to decide whether to lose his shit—which I would absolutely pay to see—or vomit. He chose to remain quiet. Dammit.

The bathroom door opened and Maxar stepped out, steam rising off his body, which was just covered by a towel around his waist.

“I’m going to find breakfast,” I said, heading for the door. “Omaera, would you like to join me?”

She cocked her head to the side for a moment, blinked, glanced at Gemma, who merely shrugged, then she nodded. “Actually, I could use some fresh air. Just let me throw on some pants.”

I grinned like a lovesick fool at the fuming vampire.

Maxar was busy getting dressed, not caring two-shits that he’d dropped his towel in front of Gemma and given her a full view of his cock.

I mean, to be fair, nudity didn’t bother me either, and I’d rocked up to their apartment with no bottoms. But Gemma didn’t seem nearly as unfazed by the naked man though, and went bright red in the cheeks before hiding her eyes.

“Come on, Maxar,” Omaera said, coming out of her bedroom in cute black sweatpants and a gray crop top which showed off a hint of a tattoo along her ribcage. “Just because you’re fine flashing that thing around doesn’t mean others are. Poor Gemma’s scarred for life.”

“I’ve seen dicks before,” Gemma countered. “Plenty. Hundreds.” Then she went even redder in the face. “Okay, maybe not hundreds. But I’m no virgin. I just . . . wasn’t expecting to see one over breakfast, that’s all. Especially one that I have no intention of riding.”

Omaera snorted. “We’ll find you a dick to ride.”

Gemma shook her head. “You know I’m on a break from guys. They’re nothing but trouble.”

Omaera kissed her friend on the cheek and glanced at Maxar, Drak, and I. “Don’t I know it.”

We took the elevator down to the lobby, and I held the door open for her. It was a warm, spring morning and the birds and bees were the soundtrack to our brief jaunt down the sidewalk. I ached to take her hand in mine, but I didn’t want to push her.

“So, where are we going for breakfast?” she asked, glancing up at me and causing the sun to perfectly hit the rose gold hoop in her right nostril, making it shine.

“Just over here. There’s a great bakery.”

“Oh, I love Plummer’s Pastries.”

I guided her down the alley behind the bakery to their dumpster of day-old baked goods.

She paused when I lifted the lid. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“Breakfast,” I said.

“You . . . you eat garbage?”

“It’s not garbage. It’s day-old pastries and bread. It’s perfectly fine. And most of it is still in the bags and boxes.”

She backed up, shaking her head. “Look, Pooh Bear, I know you’re a bear and all . . . which I’m still skeptical about because I’ve never seen you shift. But I’m not a bear and I don’t eat garbage. I make plenty of money playing poker that I don’t need to go dumpster diving for food. Let’s just go around the front and buy something from Randy and Josh.”

I frowned. If only she knew how much good garbage there was out there.

Pick your battles.

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