Page 11 of Falling in Love with A Tiny Bat

When I swallow, it tastes bitter.

Releasing a defeated sigh, Castor stands. “Zahra, come here. Sit.”

My mind goes blank. I look to Alexios for guidance, but his blindingly bright smile gives me chills as he flourishes his arm toward the throne. “You heard him, snowflake. Go.Sit.”

Eyes narrow, I flick my tongue out at him like a lizard…then I head toward the evil prince who is just short of holding a child for ransom. Every muscle in me tightens with each foreboding step forward.

The baby’s complaints grow louder, echoing in my ears.

I make it up the few steps to the evil prince…and…

My heart stills. My breaths soften until I barely feel them whispering through my lungs.

He’stiny.

The little ent’s ash-gray face crumples as he bawls, underhues of rustier shades coming out with every gasping breath.

“Don’t worry,” Castor mutters. “He’s not hungry, or soiled, orhurt. He just hates me.”

Tears burn in my eyes, and I can no longer breathe. The baby doesn’t look heavier than five pounds. He’s so very, verysmall.

“Xios,” Castor states. “She didn’t laugh. That was a fantastic joke, was it not?”

Somewhere beyondmybaby, I register that Alexios has followed me to the throne’s plateau. Gloved hands linked behind his back, he says, “Perhaps Zahra doesn’t have a sense of humor. Perhaps she likes to ruin everyone’s fun.”

Castor hums, skeptical. “Child, if you want to hold him, please sit down.”

Idowant to hold him. Sitting on theevil prince’sthrone, however, seems somewhat…strange. All things considered. Evil princes are meant to have egos large enough to fill their palace walls. They’re supposed to be incredibly possessive where items of their status are concerned.

Castor doesn’t seem to care.

When I sit, he bends toward me as though his eyes aren’t covered at all. I open my arms to receive the tiny bundle, but he pauses. “Are your hands clean?”

My heart jerks. “No. They aren’t. Sorry. I’m not thinking straight. Is there a bathroom or sanitizer around here?”

“He’s making another joke.” Alexios lets a sigh pour free as he perches himself on the broad, stone armrest beside me andadjusts the sleeves beneath his tailcoat. “The baby is anent. His cradle is a dirt pile. Only human infants are so fragile in the face of silly things likegerms.” Dragging his gaze up to Castor, he murmurs, “Two strikes. You’re not doing very well today.”

Castor smiles, baring two canines sharper than the rest. Not quite fangs, but not quite normal either. “Well, at least I’m amusing myself.”

Alexios crosses his legs and peers down his nose at me. “You look like you’re about to cry.”

“Do I?” I snip.

“Indeed. Tears have gathered like starlight in your eyes.”

I sniff, irritated when it sounds more like asniffle. “Weird.”

“Pretty,” he corrects.

“Are you done?” Castor asks. “It really is quite unbearable to listen to you both flirt.”

“Apologies,” Alexios murmurs, turning his attention away from me.

“He started it,” I mutter.

“Grow up.”

“You first.”

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