Page 18 of Tyr

She waited for Tyr to enter, but he didn’t. Weird. He wasn’t far away. Confused, she walked to the door, and it slid open. In the dim light that shone down the hallway, she made out his muscular form propped up against the wall inches from the door. Head back, arms and legs crossed, eyes closed. Agun lay in his lap, and next to him sat a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

Had he been like that the whole time she’d been asleep? She frowned. She didn’t like the idea of him sleeping against a wall. It wasn’t right. He shouldn’t have to be uncomfortable, so she could be comfortable.

Now that she saw better and not everything was blurry and hazy, her first assessment of him had been correct, yet fatally inadequate. He was unbelievably handsome. Massive. Strong. With a jawline that could cut rubies. He sat unmoving in a tight, white tank top and dark pants. His feet were bare, and she hadthe urge to run a finger up the sole of his foot to find out if he was ticklish.

“I can turn a light on if you’d like a better view.”

Celeste’s cheeks flamed. He wasn’t asleep. Damn. How had she missed his brain activity?

“I… I can’t figure out how to turn on the lights in the room.”

He opened his eyes and raked her over from head to toe. She still wore no shirt. Only her arm sling covered her sports bra.

Tyr shoved the gun into the back of his waistband as he hopped to his feet. She backed into the room, and he reached out and placed his palm on a plate on the wall. The lights illuminated the longer he held it there. Then he removed his hand and placed it there a second time. The lights dimmed.

Was everything in his place so fancy?

She stepped up and placed her hand on the plate, again, the room illuminated. A small squawking sound came from the side of the room.

Tyr walked to the windows and opened the shutters, revealing the late afternoon sky. He unlatched the windows, and a rush of fresh air caressed Celeste, making her bare skin pebble.

He strode to the enclosure and pulled open a set of blackout curtains. Inside, Yegret hopped from foot to foot and chirped at him.

Tyr crossed his arms over his chest. “I understand why you did what you did, and I thank you for protecting our space, but you should have stopped when I called your name.”

The bird squawked.

“No excuses. You know your commands. You ruined my shirt, by the way. And you are lucky you didn’t hurt Celeste, or I’d let her eat you.”

Tyr pointed to Celeste, and the bird cocked its head.

“Celeste is going to be here for a few days at least. This is her room until she goes. You are to protect her the way you would me. Got it?”

The bird shifted from foot to foot again.

“I won’t let you out unless you agree. She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need to worry about being attacked by you again.”

Yegret looked at Celeste and then Tyr. A pang of sympathy raced through Celeste for the bird. She only did what she’d been taught. It wasn’t her fault.

Tyr turned to Celeste. “Actually, it is her fault. She knows when I say to back off, she backs off. And the fact that I had to physically protect you, and she still didn’t stop, is a problem.”

Son of a breadbasket!Celeste rolled her barrier back up. She hadn’t realized she’d still had it down the entire time. What else had he accidentally heard from her?

Oh, gadzooks!Had he heard her thoughts when she’d been ogling him in the hallway? Mortification rooted inside her. How could she be so stupid?

Tyr and Yegret stared at each other for a minute before the bird hung its head and chirped at him.

Tyr nodded and then opened the enclosure. Yegret jumped onto his shoulder. Though twice the size of a normal falcon, she appeared small against his bulky frame. She began preening him. Tyr paid her no attention as he walked to the window, but she was more interested in Tyr’s hair than going outside. After a minute, Tyr reached up and scratched under her chin.

“Okay. Okay. I’m not mad anymore. You can go.”

She preened him for a moment and then flapped her wings and dove outside. Tyr stared after her and then turned to Celeste.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He walked to the bathroom and touched another pad on the wall. It lit up asparkling white marble bathroom with a deep clawfoot sunken tub, a shower big enough for ten people, and a stone three-faucet vanity.

Celeste wondered if, at some point, he planned on hosting a couple of women in his room the way she was sure Herm did. But then she remembered him saying he’d never had anyone in his room before.

He turned on one of the faucets, went to a closet, and pulled out a white towel. White. Everything was so white. What was with that?

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