Page 81 of Halfblood Deceived

One that wasn’t the usual slurs he’d received in the past from the other males in his old court.

Sebastian hummed. “I know what you mean. I’ve met several people who feel the same way.”

“So have I,” Kerian said. “Around half of the fey I’ve met are demisexual.”

Zeydan nodded, relieved at his cousins’ lack of judgment.

Sebastian sighed. “Oh, the troubles I would have avoided if I’d kept it in my pants when I was twenty and thirty-something.”

Kerian chuckled. “Namely, getting hexed to the moon and back by this tiny witch whose name he didn’t even remember.”

Zeydan’s eyebrows shot up.

Sebastian scowled at Kerian. “Again, she wasn’t hexing me because I broke her poor heart with my rake ways. She wanted me to give her a kidney.”

“Um, what?” Zeydan asked.

Sebastian wrinkled his patrician nose. “In all fairness, I think I might have promised her my kidney when I was drunk and she was distracting me,” he admitted. “But everyone knows that you can’t take drunken vows of voluntary nephrectomies seriously.”

Zeydan laughed. He couldn’t help it. “You are completely insane.”

Sebastian shrugged. “It runs in the family.” He tilted his chin toward Kerian. “This one is far worse than me. He almost got his arse roasted by a dragon royal for sleeping with the male’s wife.”

Kerian grinned, fangs flashing. “I regret nothing. He was a cock, and she was done with his bullshit.”

Sebastian huffed. “So you say now, but you were whining about your burned hair for the three months it took you to grow it back.”

Kerian ran a hand through his golden hair. “I was mourning the loss of a vital, beautiful part of my perfect self.”

Sebastian imitated Kerian’s snobby tone.

Zeydan tried to stifle a laugh and ended up snorting.

“Sounds like you guys are having fun,” said a female who approached their table. She was tall, about 5-foot-11, with short, chaotic red hair, blue eyes, and freckles all over her cheekbones and nose. Roses and vines tattoos adorned her bare leanly muscled arms. She was wearing a tank top, jeans, and steel-tip boots.

She looked oddly familiar, even though Zeydan had never seen her before.

“Diana, darling. How’s the temporary manager position treating you?” Kerian asked, taking Diana’s hand in his.

“Careful, Diana, you don’t know where his hands have been,” Sebastian warned with a grin.

Kerian glared at Sebastian. “I washed my hands, you heathen.”

Diana huffed, sitting on the arm of Kerian’s sofa. “I let you kiss me and I definitely know where that mouth of yours has been.”

Sebastian stood to—somewhat ungainly—place barely-there kisses on Diana’s cheeks. “That’s because you like where my mouth’s been.”

Diana swatted his arm. “You are a pervert.”

Sebastian plopped back on the sofa. “That’s one of my best features. Just ask Aylana.”

Diana shook her head and reached out a hand to Zeydan. “Since these two have been too uncivilized to introduce us. I’m Diana. I usually work in the bar, but I’m covering for Lady Davashkov for a few days.”

It took Zeydan more coordination than he thought to reach out and clasp the firm hand of the pretty, strangely familiar-looking female. A tingle went up Zeydan’s arm as he sensed Diana’s power. It left the faint taste of blood on hot metal on his tongue. Which could only mean one thing—she was a gargoyle. “I’m Zeydan, and I’m part of the reason you are covering for Kam.” He released her.

“Oh?” Diana asked.

Kerian pointed at Zeydan with his tumbler. “My fourth cousin here—”

---