Page 22 of Married to the Devil

Silas continues. “The library is where we set up our office for meetings and where you’ll most likely find him if he’s in residence. I’ll give you a tour after breakfast.”

“And this is the library,”Silas flourishes a clawed hand.

The room is beautiful. The décor of the whole penthouse has an understated classiness somewhere between elegantly modern and cozy, but the library is where the minimalism dies. It’s full to bursting bookshelves are made of intricately carved wood. What walls don’t host shelving are painted a deep green. The furnishings are large and lushly cushioned. There’s even an electric fireplace.

This place is somewhere I’d be comfortable curling up for a nap, but there’s evidence that others are busy at work here.

A large table in front of the balcony doors looks to act as a shared desk. A map of this part of the city is spread over it. The boundaries of Kalos’s territory and Stoneheart’s previous holdings are marked out around the area we are currently inhabiting. The Firefly is directly in the middle of this territory.

“You’ve been busy,” I remark. It’s an understatement. The penthouse is fully equipped and prepared as if they’ve been here for years rather than only just moving in.

The tour of the penthouse apartment included the hallway that leads to where Francesca and her sister Fiona live together and Silas’s own space. Along with different common areas that act as a gym, home theater, and living room.

Oh, and there is a private green space and swimming pool on top of the building that made me want to text my mom about the sad potted plants that she could remedy before I remembered she’s somewhere in the Caribbean right now and, more importantly, has no idea what’s going on.

Sad plants aside, Stoneheart certainly likes his luxuries. And balconies. There must be a balcony running around the whole building since every room seems to have access to one.

And I still haven’t seen everything.

“Where is Stoneheart’s room?” I ask.

Silas almost misses a step on his way to the large table. “That would be the room you woke in.”

The room and bed I’d woken up in this morning was as personalized as a hotel room. I’d assumed it was a guest room.

I suppose there is another closet that I hadn’t looked in before setting up my wards last night to warn me of intruders so I could get some sleep without being on edge and the shower in the bathroom is certainly sized for someone with giant wings. My cheeks warm.

I locked my husband out of his own room.

The bedding doesn’t even carry his dark scent of rain-soaked cliffs.

“He doesn’t sleep much,” Silas says, as if reading my thoughts.

“I didn’t think we’d be sharing a room,” I say.

Silas’s lips thin. “It would be better for the territory if you did. I understand why you wouldn’t want to…”

His eye twitches in a mix of guilt and discomfort. I try and push down the embarrassment threatening to rise in my throat.

He knows what happened last night. Or at least what Stoneheart told him. Which I can only hope didn’t include how easy it was for my husband to seduce me.

“But appearances matter,” I finish for him. I wish I could demand my own space, but I’ve already sacrificed, what’s a little more pain for the good of the territory?

Even if it’s going to be awkward as fuck.

I see him coming this time. A dark shadow blots out the light before my husband lands on the balcony.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

“Oh good, he’s home,” Silas says.

I wish I could muster a smile with how relieved Silas sounds, but the memories of last night are fresh. The heat of his mouth, the ice of the night air, and his countenance after the interruption.

His gray wings cut shadows in the morning light. It’s a breathtaking sight before they clasp around him like a cloak. Stoneheart catches my eye. The roll of his shoulders is almost smug before he moves toward the door.

This gargoyle enjoys making me weak.

What a dick.

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