Page 48 of Pain

Maxar, Kenvin, and I exchanged looks.

“Nothing, really,” Maxar said, rejoining us and taking his seat again. The bear sat on the ground like an animal, and I preferred to stand. “Just deciding if we should go to the prison to see our shamed family members, or if we should wait a few more centuries and visit the next time we’re in Hell. You know,” he shrugged, squirting what I would consider way too much mystery sauce onto his plate, “fun stuff like that.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Omaera

As much as I enjoyed sharing a bed with Zandren, I was still really exhausted after our first training session and knew that I needed sleep. If I shared a room with either my bear or Maxar, I definitely wouldn’t be getting enough sleep. So with reluctance, I chose to sleep alone in the fourth guest room.

It was weird though. I hadn’t slept alone for several nights now, and having the entire bed to myself was odd. Normally, I was either draped over some warm body, or scrunched up on the edge because some warm body was taking up the rest of the mattress—not that I minded.

To have the entire mattress to myself felt like too much.

After dinner, I showered and retired to bed, leaving the men up chatting quietly in the living room, all of them with some of the amber alcohol Kenvin said he distilled himself. I wasn’t ready to try it.

Hearing Kenvin’s story of his mate and her death was gutting. Heartbreaking.

Did he and Estrid have any children before she was murdered?

Where was Hellio now? Did Kenvin take his revenge? Or was the monster demon still out there somewhere in hiding? Did we need to add him to our kill list? It seemed that list was growing by the day.

I had a lot more questions for the old demon, but I could tell that he wasn’t ready to talk about them. Maybe in time.

Crawling into bed, I pulled the covers over my body, then almost immediately kicked them off because I was too hot.

Ugh!Hell was so damned hot.

Tossing and turning, I struggled to find a comfortable position to sleep in. I had no clock, and my phone was on Pacific Standard Time—Earth Time—so I had no idea what time it was in Hell.

Did Hell have different time zones?

After what felt like maybe ninety minutes of non-stop fussing because I was too hot and couldn’t get comfortable, I growled and slid my legs over the side of the bed.

The door to the room I was in had a slight squeak to it, so I was careful when I opened it. I didn’t want to wake the others.

Luckily, the squeak didn’t happen this time, and I padded out into the courtyard silently, on bare feet. Even at night, with the sun down, the concrete tiles were hot, and I had to quickly hop on as few toes as possible over to the kitchen.

Opening up the cupboards, I found a glass bottle of water and opened it, taking a long, satisfying sip. My eyes closed as the sulfur-free liquid slid down my throat, soothing the dryness that came from just breathing the dusty, dry Hell air.

“Can’t sleep?” came the familiar voice of my mage from behind me.

I smiled and spun around, wiping my mouth with my hand to catch the dribbles. He stood there, shirtless, and in just his ridiculous genie pants from when he arrived on my doorstep that first night, his hands in his pockets. A playful smirk wiggled on his lips, and his dark-red hair with all the cowlicks was a sexy mess.

“I can’t get comfortable,” I said, setting the water bottle down on the counter. “It’s so freaking hot.”

He stepped forward and grabbed the bottle from the counter, putting it to his lips. My gaze fell to his throat and the way his large Adam’s apple bobbed as heswallowed. Why did I find that as hot as I did?

He drained the bottle, then silently opened the cupboard and pulled out another. “Sorry to finish your water,” he said, popping the cap of the new bottle.

“Why are you up?” I asked, allowing my gaze to rake down his ripped abdomen. He still had a few bruises and scars from where Zandren nearly disemboweled him just two days ago. But for the most part, he seemed healed.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, stepping closer to me, bringing with him a pleasant heat, unlike the heat of Hell which stuck to me like grimy dust and sweat. Maxar’s heat was clean. It was the perfect temperature. Inviting, and with it came a sense of calm. His hands fell to my hips.

“Trying to decide if you should go visit your parents or not?”

He nodded.

“Do youwantto?”

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