Page 4 of Monster's Secret Baby

"Like you want to ruin me."

Heat floods through me at her words. She knows. Of course she knows. "Perhaps I do."

Harmony's pupils dilate, the gold flecks in her eyes catching the afternoon light. "Xaphan lords don't ruin human gardeners. They elevate courtesans and marry well-connected daughters."

"I'm not a lord." I release her curl, fingers grazing the delicate skin of her neck.

"You might as well be." She turns back to her herbs, but her breathing has quickened. "With your fancy parties and important friends. Half the nobility of New Solas clamoring for your art."

"Half the nobility can go fuck themselves."

That startles a laugh from her, bright and genuine. "You shouldn't say such things."

"Another thing I shouldn't do." I shift closer, wings curving around us, creating a private world amidst the public garden. "I've been away too long. Two whole weeks of patrons and collectors and sycophants. Not a single real conversation."

"Poor little rich artist," she teases, but her expression softens. "Trapped in glittering rooms with beautiful people who adore you."

"They don't know me." I brush my thumb across her lower lip, uncaring of who might see. "You do."

Her eyes darken. "Adellum?—"

"Meet me tonight." The words rush out before I can reconsider. "By the river, past the southern boundary. No one uses that path after dark."

She hesitates, glancing toward the main house. She doesn't know how little Arkan cares when I coax her down there, laying her out and taking her the way I'm always dying to. "I shouldn't."

She always says that. I swear Harmony is my moral compass, the only thing that reminds me that there are rules to our society—even if I don't follow them.

"But you will." I smile, knowing her—knowing us. "Sunset. I'll wait by the old willow, the one that dips into the water."

Harmony's cheeks flush, but she doesn't deny it. "I have duties, responsibilities?—"

"I'll wait all night if necessary." I lean forward, my lips a breath from her ear. "I've spent two weeks in rooms full of people, thinking only of you. Far too many nights in an empty bed, dreaming of your skin against mine."

Her breath catches. I know it means something to her for me to assure her—even if it's indirectly—that there is no one else even when I'm gone. And I like telling her she's mine. "You're impossible."

"Is that a yes?"

She meets my eyes, her own dancing with a mixture of exasperation and desire. "It's a 'you're going to get us both in trouble.'"

I grin, victorious. "That's not a no."

"It should be." She shoves at my chest, forcing space between us. "Go away. Some of us have actual work to complete before the day ends."

I rise to my feet, wings stretching before settling against my back. "Sunset," I remind her. "I'll bring wine."

"I hate wine," she lies, focusing intently on her herbs.

"Meadowmint tea, then."

The corners of her mouth twitch. "You're presuming I'll come."

"I'm hoping." I step back, reluctant to leave her even for a few hours. Because I know she'll be there. She's as drawn to me as I am to her, even if we play this little game. "But either way, I'll be there. Waiting."

"Go create something beautiful," she says, finally looking up at me. "Instead of bothering hardworking people."

I start to walk away, then pause, looking back over my shoulder. "You already did that today," I say. "The bothering me part, not the creating beauty. Though you've done that too, just by existing."

Her laugh follows me as I stride away, wings lifting slightly with satisfaction. I know she'll come. We've established this ritual over months of careful meetings—this dance of resistance followed by surrender. There's honesty in it, a realness that's absent from every other corner of my life.

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