Page 191 of Tempest of Wrath and Vengeance

“Dex is sleeping?” Luka asked, finally bringing his eyes to hers.

“Yes, but I don’t know for how long.”

A rare half-smile curled on his lips. “I may have made sure he drank some of your tea tonight.”

Her mouth dropped open because that was…brilliant.

“Why?” Tessa asked.

“Because Theon may have found some information about your visions. I’m going there now and thought you might want to tag along,” he answered.

“He did?” she asked, excitement bubbling.

Luka nodded. “If I take you with, you are agreeing to be in the same space as Theon.”

“Obviously,” she drawled.

“And it’s not just him. Razik and Eliza will be there too.”

“The one that looks like you?”

Luka nodded. “It sounds like he’s my brother.”

“Like arealbrother?”

“As opposed to a fake one?” Luka countered.

Tessa brought her hand dramatically to her chest. “By the gods, he jokes.”

“Shut up, temptress,” he muttered.

Then he looped his arm around her waist, pulling her into him, and her entire body forgot how to function. She hadn’t been expecting that, but she was fairly certain her heart stopped for a few seconds at the same time she forgot how to properly breathe.

Before she could come to her senses, she was standing in a different room. She immediately recognized it as Luka’s. The warm and earthy decor. Trinket boxes everywhere that she was betting held rings. Random empty frames scattered throughout the room and adorning the walls.

“Do you want different clothes?” Luka asked, bringing her back to herself.

“What?”

He was smirking now. “Do you want different clothes?”

She looked down at her night clothes. “I’m not bothered by them. Are you?”

“No. I’m only bothered that others will see you in them.”

“Like Theon?”

“No,” he scoffed. “I’m well aware he’s already seen everything, and even if he hadn’t…”

She waited, but he didn’t continue. “Even if he hadn’t what?”

Luka only shrugged before he disappeared into his closet.

What the fuck did that mean?

He returned with a hooded sweatshirt and tossed it to her. Scowling, she held it up and then said, “Absolutely not.”

“It’s a sweatshirt, Tessa.”

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