Page 356 of Halfblood Deceived

Zeydan wrapped her tighter in his arms. “I will. I’ll stay with you forever or for as long as you want me by your side. Whichever comes first.”

Aella took a deep breath, holding onto him. She wanted to promise forever. Her blood—her very soul wanted forever, but she couldn’t predict the future.

Her awareness drifted, but she made an effort to look into his jade eyes. “I love you, Zeydan.” She didn’t know the future, but she knew this—she would always love him.

He smiled. “And I love you, Aella.”

Aella sighed, eyes closing. She was safe in his arms. She knew she’d always be.

And she hoped with all her heart that they were destined to forever.

We’ll forget in the morning.

MARI

This is a terrible fucking idea, Mari thought as she stood outside Andreas’ door.

Knowing it was a terrible fucking idea wouldn’t stop her this time, however.

Because he’d almost died right in front of her. Again.

Because he could be killed tomorrow and then she’d always wonder. She would have to live with the ‘what ifs’ and fuck that. She had plenty of those weighing on her conscience already.

Taking a deep breath, Mari lifted a hand to knock. She paused, looking down at her usual outfit of scrubs and tennis shoes.

Maybe I should let Evan dress me—Ugh, no. Fuck that.

She knocked on the door.

It opened a second later, bringing Andreas into view.

Well, the first thing Mari saw due to her vertically challenged status was his chest. His bare chest at that. He was wearing black sweatpants and nothing more. Human females have a point, males should wear sweatpants all the time; she mused, ogling Andreas’ bulge. There were scars littered here and there. The most recent one went down his left shoulder. Her eyes inevitably went to the thorns and black roses tattoo that covered his left side and went down to his forearm. Right above his heart, there was a date in Roman numerals—the day of Elizabeth’s death.

Mari’s stomach twisted with a mix of kinship and jealousy. She hated the latter, but couldn’t help it. Dear Morrigan, she was so glad she’d never met Elizabeth in person. That was petty. Mari knew this. And the reason why she felt like this was something she didn’t dare even think about unless she was drunk.

How long have I been staring at his chest?

She craned her neck to look at him and the tightly impassive, and of course, surly look in his brown eyes told her it had been a long time.

“What do you want?” he asked.

She loved his voice—deep, slightly scratchy, pleasant. But gods, how could she be so horribly attracted to such a curmudgeon of a male? Weren’t opposites supposed to attract? Shouldn’t she, a total grump, be attracted to someone without such a short-fused temperament?

Well, she had been attracted to a less growly male once—Zeydan. In fact, he’d been the one who made her realize she didn’t find all males unappealing. She’d had little chances to notice that before in Avalon—the land where snobby, psychotic, manipulative, rotten males were abundant. And decent ones were either taken or hiding behind an arsehole facade to survive.

Zeydan was unaware of that happy little fact, thank Morrigan.

Andreas snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Earth to Princess Marigold.”

Mari snapped her fingers back and turned his fingernails green. Unlike the glamour she’d used on his hair, which had worn off already, he’d have to wait until he grew out his nails for the green color to disappear.

His lips curled in a sardonic smile, eyes narrowing. “You’ll have to do better than that, Marigold. I don’t have any masculinity complexes.”

“Is that a challenge, Andreas?” she crooned.

He leaned closer. “Yes. What will you do about it?”

Mari found him annoying. Really, she did. She had no logical explanation for how her pulse seemed to echo in her clit. None. Zero.

---