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But it wasn’t. Something had changed in the way he watched me.

I wasn’t sure I liked it.

When I got back to my room, something was… off. It took me a moment to pinpoint what had changed: my bed. The spread was the same, the four post pillars identical, but the slightest wood frame peeked out from under the draped blanket. A note was on my bedside table.

Check the bottom right corner. —R

I did as instructed. Before, my bed had been elevated on four posts. Now, under the mattress, the wooden frame extended all the way to the ground. On the far right side, opposite the entryway, there was a small locking mechanism. I admired the elegance of it. The way it was set up, I wouldn’t have noticed it if Raphael hadn’t pointed it out. When I maneuvered the siding, the wooden panel dropped away, surprisingly lightweight.

That was the least of the marvels the bed now contained. Inside were two pillows and a properly fitted blanket. I pressed my palm into the blanket. More than that, Raphael had something done so the carpet under the bed was even softer. Inside was a small clock. I frowned, peering farther in.

Although the wood appeared solid from the outside, light was able to get through. I eased my body under. More than that,the carved base was strategically cut so I could see if anyone came into the room. Before, I’d kept the covers from the main bed pulled so I wouldn’t be seen if anyone came in, but like this I wouldn’t need to, and instead could feel secure that I wasn’t blind to anybody coming.

The bed compartment was a stunning feat of engineering. How was it possible it had all been done in a day?

A second note fell from one of the pillows:So you don’t need to take fresh bedding each night. See you tomorrow.

There was no possibility Raphael missed my wave of gratitude through our mental link. And though I liked my privacy… maybe that wasn’t the worst thing.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

I knocked on thedoor of Raphael’s chambers, then tapped my foot impatiently when I didn’t hear a response.

I’d never been to his chambers before; Raphael had never actually told me where his private quarters were. When I’d ask Amalthea, she’d burst out laughing.

“Surely you’re joking.”

Do I seem like I’m trying to surprise Raphael in bed?I wanted to retort. But just the thought made me flush. Besides, he’d rejected me. He didn’t want me. All the wine in the world wouldn’t convince me that was a good idea.“It’s where he said to meet him.”

“But… don’t you know where his rooms are?”

I shook my head. Wandering into the vampire king’s chambers wasn’t on my limited list of activities I was comfortable doing.“Why would I?”

I knocked again. When there was no answer, I cast a glance about the hallway. It was the time we’d agreed to meet.

I threw the door to his chambers open.

And blinked at the scene before me. Demos was in the room, dressed in his uniform, his arms crossed as he stood in front of Raphael, who was turned a quarter away from me.

Raphael was naked.

Well, he had a towel around his hips. His hair was damp, the water dripping from the white tips over his jawline. His chest was on full display and bore no sign of the whips at Greymere. His skin was unbroken, stretching over hard muscle. He was perched on the edge of a massive desk, his hands gripping into the wood, flexing the muscles of his arms.

My skin grew hot and tight when I realized I was interrupting. Gods, and I thought him and Amalthea…

“I’ll come back another time,” I squeaked.

Demos didn’t look at me as he said, “We can continue this conversation another time.”

“No. The matter is closed.” Raphael’s voice brooked no room for argument.

I was missing context, but clearly I was interrupting Vampire Kingdom business, not some rendezvous. I wascurious, because of course I was, but I chased the emotion away.Their politics don’t concern you.

“You can’t just ignore this,” Demos said through clenched teeth.

“I’m not,” Raphael snapped. His gaze flashed towards me, then back at Demos as the blade of his tone dulled just a fraction. “What I’m doing is refusing to discuss it at this time and ordering you not to investigate further.”

Demos turned away from his king, not waiting for a proper dismissal, and brushed past me. His expression was cold and unfriendly, unlike the neutral expression I knew from our daily practice. He had too much restraint to slam the door given he was however-many hundreds of years old instead of a toddler, but the solidthudit shut with was enough for me to register how he felt about Raphael’s response to whatever argument.