Page 72 of The Demon's Pet

“I know!” Sam’s tone was sharp, though his voice was quiet. I thanked my excellent wolf hearing that I could even eavesdrop.

Sure, it might have been kind of wrong. But since both of these angels wouldn’t hesitate to kill me…

“It’s not the Morningstar,” Sam said. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“But the prophecy… it’s someone hated—”

“I told you to be quiet. It’s someone hated without reason. I still need to investigate the reasons they hate this void creature. It appears to have committed murder, but I’m not so sure. But no, it’s not the ultimate weapon. Now leave me alone.”

“Why are you keeping Cleo?” Os asked. “If you were just trying to save her, you could release her here. The fae would care for her.”

Sam must have ignored him because I heard nothing.

“She’s mine,” Sam finally responded. “And I’ll kill anyone who tries to take her from me. That’s all you need to know.”

“And we’re all just supposed to let you do whatever you want with her? She’s—”

“Unless you want to fight me, yes,” Sam retorted. “Now let me cook, Os. Go back to your lion. He likes you.”

Os sniffed. “I don’t care about that. I’m on a mission.”

I heard Sam laugh.

“There’s still time for fun on a mission,” Sam said.

“And do you plan to have fun with Cleo?”

“Only if she begs,” Sam said. “Now leave me. I have food to make.”

I heard Os’s weak protests, and then the door opened and shut.

I fell back on the bed, staring at the cream-colored ceiling, my heart racing.

What was the Morningstar? Would Sam even tell me about it if I asked?

I was learning so much about the celestials, but so far, I had more questions than answers. Did they always get tithes? When did Sam start working for them? What was this ultimate weapon they mentioned?

Was the entire world in danger?

My racing thoughts overwhelmed me, and I tried to clear my mind as I rolled over on my side and pulled the covers over me, ready to sleep.

When I woke up, I could decide whether to confront Sam about everything or just keep my mouth shut for my own good.

16

A knock on the door startled me, jolting me from sleep.

I pushed up on the silken covers, noticing that I must have kicked my pants off as I slept. My tee shirt was riding up, exposing the edge of my bra.

I quickly pulled my shirt down and yanked the covers over me. “Come in,” I said, knowing it would probably be Sam with dinner.

I was still starving.

The door swung open, and Sam stood there, shirtless, to my surprise.

My jaw gaped, but he simply leaned against the doorframe, watching me with those mysterious eyes shaded by long lashes.

My eyes couldn’t resist running down his muscles, his hard, square pecs, those abs so defined I wanted to run my tongue over them.

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