Page 25 of Until the End of Ever
“I borrow Ronan’s horses most of the time. Less conspicuous. Besides, my parents’ drivers can’t resist my mother. She’d shove her nose in my business,” I said fondly as the carriage raced through the town circle.
“Don’t I know that story.”
I grimaced at the implication. My mother was nothing like hers. I didn’t even know how to broach the subject. There was something seriously wrong between Kleos and Zenya, but people could be sensitive about family affairs. I certainly know I wouldn’t appreciate an outsider commenting on our dynamic.
I opted to change the subject. “I was surprised to realize you did indeed have an interview Saturday. And here I was, thinking you simply aimed to avoid me.”
As expected, Kleos blushed. “I don’t lie.” After a second, she added, “To you. I don’t lie to you.”
I noted the distinction with a certain degree of pleasure, nonetheless wondering who she did lie to. It didn’t seem in her character. Her mother, probably. Or her suitors. And in most likelihood, the papers.
“They booked me for this week initially, but after the mess on Samhain, they were in too much of a rush to figure out who I might have screwed to wait a couple of days.”
Great. Back to remembering the feel of her tits in my hands as she ground against my crotch. And the feeling of her cunt strangling my cock, less than a day later.
I cleared my throat, veering us back on safer ground again. “So, you don’t like Great-Aunt Geraldine’s diamonds?”
My eyes fixed on the necklace I could spy under her shawl.
“Oh. Was she truly a princess?”
We were already back at the manor, given how insane Ronan’s horses could be.
Taking her hand to help her out of the carriage, I ran through the family history as we walked home. “She didn’t have muchpower, and by her generation, the Saltzins had almost exhausted their coffers. She was the first—but not the last—to wed outside of Highvale, picking an old, titled, rather wealthy gentleman. From Russia, if I recall. She came back home with his title and inheritance.”
“How enterprising.”
“My grandmother certainly appreciated her sister’s sacrifice.” The door disappeared at our approach, materializing as soon as we’d both stepped inside. I didn’t think I’d even willingly ordered it. The house usually required my prompting for things like that, but it was almost eager to get us back in, as though in only a day, it has missed Kleos.
No, I was just projecting.
“Oh!” she cried, chuckling as a violent ball of fur leapt in the air, claws first.
I would have run for cover. Kleos, being insane, caught Zazel in midair before cuddling the demon in her arms.
“Hello, Zaz! Did you miss me? I missed you,” she cooed.
I might have felt left out, had soft fur not just brushed against my leg just then.
I sank to a crouch, lowering my hand to the floor, and Phobos crawled across the length of my arm until he’d reached my shoulders, wrapping himself around me like a warm scarf. “Survive the demon another day?” I asked the night fox.
“Don’t listen to him,” Kleos whispered. “You’re a good kitty.”
“That’s it. I am getting you checked by a psychiatrist.”
“For loving an adorable ball of fur, or because I’m in your house?” she quipped. “Pretty sure I know what they’d lock me up for—and it wouldn’t be Zazel.”
“Both, Valesco. Always both.”
We’d reached our bedrooms, mine on the left, hers on the right.
How easy it would be to pull her to me, and press my lips down to hers. How natural.
But she was home. I felt more settled, less irritable, having her here. After crossing that line Saturday, we could barely handle being around each other. I wanted her here more than I wanted to touch her.
Only just.
“Will you torture me with more cupcakes at a disgraceful time tomorrow morning?”
