Page 71 of Bride of Death

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Sera releases a deep exhale, her body seeming to melt into mine like she’s agreeing with my inane thoughts.

Because they are inane.

I shouldn’t care if anyone else has touched her. She’s not mine in that way. Nor should I be thinking about how this is okay or how it feels right.

She’s not mine. She’s forbidden.Hades will fucking kill me for this.

A small part of me—a clearly suicidal part—whispers that it doesn’t care. Just holding her is worth the pain.

Is it, though?I counter.Is it?

My teeth ground together in irritation.

This is ridiculous.

She merely needs a little comfort. That’s all I’m providing. It’s fine.

I close my eyes and will myself to stop thinking. To shut it all off. And just breathe.

In ten minutes, I’ll sneak out and cook for Sera. Then I’ll let her lead our dinner conversation, and afterward, I’ll go back to Tank’s place to sleep in the tiny fucking bed.

I failed to rest last night after Morpheus’s antics.

Something tells me that won’t be an issue tonight.

I’m too exhausted to fight it.

Which is probably something I should have considered before lying down and wrapping myself around a warm, pliable female.

I yawn.

I also should have remembered my exhaustion before closing my eyes.

Yeah. Yeah, there are a lot of things I probably should have done.

But I’ve never been the kind of fae who plays the “should have” game.

Mistakes happen every day. Mistakes like… falling asleep… with the Bride of Death.

Chapter 18

Sera

Scents surround me.Heavenly ones.

Silky cotton.

Leather and smoke.

A hint of crisp, wintry air.

Mmm. I nuzzle into the source of the alluring aroma and inhale deeply. Fae, it feels warm. Safe. Hard, yet soft. Like muscle.

Sculpted muscle.

Abs.

My brow furrows as my fingers skim the ridges of a masculine torso.

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