Page 103 of Lucifer's Mirror
I push my disappointment away. Maybe it’s for the best. We have things to resolve between the two of us. The truth is I know so little about him—what he wants, what he believes in, what I mean to him. He’s starting to open up, but there’s a long way to go. So maybe it’s not the time for us to get any closer physically. I have a feeling making love with Khaos will alter me in some fundamental way. I suspect I’m going to have to make some tough decisions soon, and I can’t guarantee that what I decide will align with what Khaosti wants.
I sigh and sit up. “I did as well. Who knew that cuddling up with a werewolf could be so restful?”
He snorts. I don’t wait for a response but just get up and head to the bathroom. When I get back, he’s gone.
I find them in the kitchen: Khaosti and Hecate, and… I come to an abrupt halt because I recognize the other man sitting beside Khaosti. It’s Trystan, Khaosti’s friend. I met him that first night. He’s the one who wanted to cuff me, and I scowl. I head across and pour myself a coffee, then pull out the seat next to Hecate. It’s a little like drawing battle lines—us against them.
I glance at Khaosti’s face; he doesn’t seem happy to see his friend. His expression is closed off, tense.
“So, what’s happening?” I ask when I become fed up with waiting for someone to tell me.
Khaosti sighs. “What are you doing here, Trystan? I told you to go home.”
Trystan is a good-looking guy, with dark blond hair pulled into a ponytail and clear blue eyes, but something about him rubs me the wrong way. A flash of anger flickers behind his eyes at Khaosti’s question.
“I was ordered to report to the palace,” he says.
“My father?”
“Who else? He’s not happy.”
“What did he want?”
“To know where you and the girl are.” He casts me a glance, and his expression turns ugly.
“You told him about Amber?” Khaosti’s tone is curt.
“What was I supposed to do? Lie? Because that always goes so well. If you remember, the last person who lied to your father was tossed off the palace roof.”
I’m really beginning not to like Khaosti’s father. A lot.
“It’s not as though I could tell him much,” Trystan continues. “You haven’t exactly confided in me.” There’s an edge of bitterness there.
My stomach rumbles, and everyone looks at me. “What? I’m hungry.” Dinner had been disturbed by the last visitor. I wonder how he is and turn to Hecate.
“Stefan—”
But she shakes her head, and I know he’s dead. My appetite vanishes. I didn’t know him well, but it doesn’t seem fair. “I’m sorry.”
“There was nothing I could do. To some, the bite of the shadowguard is lethal. Now eat—you need your strength.”
Khaosti is tense, his shoulders rigid.
“Can I talk to you?” Trystan says. He looks across the table at Hecate and me, then back to Khaosti. “Alone.”
I think Khaosti is going to refuse. I hope he does, but then the tension goes out of him, and he gets to his feet. “We’ll go for a walk.” He looks straight at me for the first time since I entered the room, and a faint frown crosses his face. “Don’t worry.”
He turns and strides out. Trystan gets up hurriedly and follows him.
I finish the rest of my bread and then sit back and turn to Hecate. “Where did he come from?”
“He was picked up this morning, just outside the wards.”
“He was lucky the shadowguard didn’t get him.”
“Very lucky,” she murmurs. I give her a sharp glance, but she doesn’t say any more.
“Did he say what he wanted?”
