Page 31 of The Prince of Hidden Shadows
Guess I missed tonight’s dress code memo…
Worrying the corner of my lower lip, I watch him.
Lethal. Magnetic. Endearing.
I huff at how overdressed I am in a signature Victorian outfit; I assumed we were heading out. Not that I look half bad—I hadn’t expected us to stay in, that’s all. So, I opted for my favorite embroidered long burgundy jacket underneath a light leather coat to protect me from the breezy May evening.
What’s going on here?
The faint smell of popcorn assaults my nostrils as Zagreus opens his suite door, and my clothed bicep skims his bare arm as I stroll to the living room area. I’m guessing he had a snack, using the microwave kind that he swears by.
My edginess contrasts with his apparent openness.
Yeah, something’s not right…
My spine seizes with every step I take.
Planning is my thing. Strategizing is my jam. Predicting tonight? No can do.
On top of his half-naked body, I’m once again caught off guard when he mentions room service and a hot movie night with popcorn involved. And by hot, I don’t mean hooking up while watching porn. Nope, nothing like that.
The walls are closing in on me, and I’m suffocating.
Why is it so hot in here?
I suck in a breath and force a polite grin at Zagreus, but my voice comes out strained. “Is something wrong with the thermostat?” I clear my throat, buying time, but when my gaze drops, I’mdone for. His broad chest—sleek, sculpted, delectable—pulls me in. My pulse hitches, my cock perks, and I purse my lips to avoid licking them at his glorious sight. I wonder if that silkiness comes by birth or by blade.
A hearty laugh follows, bringing me back to the now. “Sorry. I crank up the heat in the evening.” He ambles off to fumble with the thermostat, yet leaves it too high for my taste, and I lie, telling him it’s fine. “That way, I can be comfortable and fall asleep.”
“Reminds you of home?” I tease, remembering how the thick, humid air clung to me down there, and have to fight the smirk that rises on its own.
My hand has a mind of its own and reaches for his forearm, the wayward move of someone who’s lost all composure around him. His skin is cool to the touch. I rein in the urge, tucking both hands into my pants pockets while doing my best to adjust to the temperature. I wince, beads of sweat forming at the top of my spine, so I stay put, staring at his bare feet before looking up at him.
“Precisely, although I don’t have human sensations, I’ve trained my body to embrace them and react as people do, but room temperature…”
I hate myself for not listening to his full explanation, distracted by the outline of his cock broadcast through the soft fabric of his pants.
Oblivious to my mind in the gutter, enhancing my foul mood, Zagreus turns the heater down a notch again and apologizes. My damp face must have betrayed me. Oh well, I can’t complain. Hehasn’t put on more clothes, so I get to enjoy the view and his company.
Not long after we settle in, he picks up the phone and orders room service. A few minutes later, he steps away, only to reappear with a bowl of microwaved popcorn. I’m slipping off my jacket, eyeing at it as if it's some kind of joke—or a very committed theme choice.
Okay…
It’s not that I don’t recognize the vibe. I grew up watching old VHS tapes with my grandparents, so popcorn in a hotel room is on-brand for that era.
But then the rest of the meal shows up, and it’s... pretty good. Nothing fancy, but solid. Thoughtful plating, warm bread, sauce that didn’t come from a jar. The kind of dinner that makes you pause between mouthfuls because you weren’t expecting to enjoy it.
After we finish, he stands, smooth and casual, and gestures towards the bedroom like it’s the next course. My brow spikes up.
He’s acting weird again, but I can’t put my finger on what’s changed.
“Come on, I’ll fix more popcorn and grab a soda from the mini-bar so that we’ll have a complete movie experience.” There was nothing sexual about his tone, but why not watch it in the living room? I bite my tongue. “Just sit back and enjoy the show. You deserve it after the week you’ve had.”
In an instant, my favorite Greek god switches off the lights and lounges on the massive bed. Is this a date night or just hanging out? Have I been friend-zoned?
Shaking my head at the preposterous idea, I grunt as discreetly as possible and plan my next move through; if he doesn’t initiate anything tonight, I will.
He resets his back against a firm pillow, stretches his muscular legs before him, and tucks one arm behind his head.
