Page 85 of Muzzled

“We…” She watched the heavy door swing closed. “Excuse me.”

Though her strength had increased tenfold, her balance was still unreliable. She padded across the floor in her bare feet, acutely aware she had an audience, until she slipped through the doors and into the hall.

“Ryan.”

He slowed his retreat. “You shouldn’t be walking this much yet.”

Keeping one hand on the cold stone walls, she sped up a fraction. “Then maybe you should stop running.” When he came to a stop, she hiked up the skirt of her dress and pressed on. “I’m never going to get used to these clothes.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he replied without facing her. “At the rate you’re strengthening, we might be able to get you topside in a month or so.”

“Is that what this is all about?” she asked, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. “Waiting out the time until you don’t have to worry that every little bump I get might be the one to cut our lines?”

His fingers flexed at his sides, the muscles across his back rippling in agitation. “I’m not waiting out the goddamn time. And I sure as fuck don’t want to be thinking about any lines getting cut.”

“Language.”

He dropped his head forward and ran his hands through his hair, digging his thumbs into the back of his neck. “Could we not do this right now?”

She slid down the wall, gathered her skirt, and draped it between her knees in an inelegant attempt at modesty. “Sit.”

Although he refused to look at her, he obeyed, draping his arms over his knees and staring at the floor.

“Roll over?” she pushed, elbowing him when he exhaled loudly. “So, is it always this quiet down here? Because that banquet room seems a little extravagant.”

He licked his lips and shook his head. “It’s usually nonstop guests and parties when Seph’s around. It quiets down during her time with her mother, but never this deserted.”

“You worried about tomorrow’s big meetup with the boss man?”

Glancing down the hall, he shrugged. “Probably just a tweak to the existing contract.”

When he went silent again, she scooted closer to him and grabbed his hand, folding his fingers over hers as she lay her head on his shoulder. “So what part freaks you out the most?” she said softly, listening as the banquet room erupted in laughter, the scuffle of chairs skidding across the floor echoing down the hall. “That you fell in love with me or that I fell in love with you?”

*

Ryan tried totug his hand out of Micah’s grip, glaring when she tightened her hold.

“I’ll be first to admit this isn’t the most romantic place for this discussion,” she continued, oblivious to the rising panic he was feeling. “But this is the most alone we’ve been since…since our little holiday to hell.”

Pushing himself to his feet, he twisted out of her grasp. “There’s no discussion.”

“Maybe ‘discussion’ is the wrong term,” she replied calmly, looking up at him. “Admission? Verbal admission might be more accurate, since apparently we already showed our hands.”

She held her arm up to him, and he helped her to her feet. “Showed our hands?”

“Wasn’t that the whole problem with Bo’s love line? He falls in love, she falls in love, death and misery follow?” Brushing her skirt out, she put her hands on her hips. “Death was a piece of cake, so are you done with the misery phase of the curse? Because I’m pretty over it.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, the pressure in his head building. “Micah. Our lines may be linked through existence, but no other part of us is. I’m contracted here, you’ll eventually have the strength and the ability to live topside. I’d like annual check-ins, but we could negotiate those if it doesn’t work for you.”

She pursed her lips and bit the inside of her cheek. “Check-ins. Gotcha.”

His tension eased slightly with her agreement. “Eventually, we’ll have to deal with your delayed aging, since people will start to notice within a few decades. But with planned relocation, it’s rarely a concern.”

“Of course.”

He started to walk down the hall, slowing his pace and offering her his arm. “There’s nothing stopping you from marrying, but the aging will be an issue,” he continued, the thought leaving the same sour taste in his mouth it had when it crossed his mind two days prior. “However, there are plenty of deities Persephone could introduce you to who will share the same mortality rate. She and I discussed the option yesterday.”

“Very thorough of you. Did Seph have any suggestions?”

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