Page 46

Orion shrugs. “Bear’s probably in a mood.”

Thrain reappears, striding across the stage. “Deepest apologies, but tonight’s show will be canceled.” He raises his voice over the rumble of confusion. “Don’t worry, there’s still plenty going on! If you’re a lover of rope, Bear will run a new demo later on advanced floor positions. So sorry again, thank you and don’t forget to behave yourselves!”

Surprise ripples through the crowd as Thrain waves for the stage lights to be dimmed and the curtains drawn. I hurriedly put the glass I’m polishing back in the rack, but with no show going on, a lineup forms at the bar almost instantly. There’s no way I’m getting away to check what’s going on.

I’ll see Lysander later — it’ll have to wait.

I’m antsy all through the rush, until finally Orion sighs and smacks me with his towel. “Go! Take your break.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” I promise, and he just shakes his head.

I don’t see Lysander backstage and both red rooms are still locked and empty. Finally, I spot Bear on the floor. He scowls but slows when I wave him down.

“What happened with the show? Is Lysander okay?”

“Well, human, he’s physically fine. Maybe a little upset. More to the point, though, he’s fertile.”

I frown. “What does that have to do with anything?”

His silver eyes narrow and gives me a long look that has me fighting not to wince.He knows.“He’s oozing magic like a lamia producing slime. I can’t touch him even with gloves on. Tying him up is out of the question.”

“So you just — can’t do the show anymore?” I dig my hands into the pockets of my apron. “For how long?”

Bear grunts and shrugs, apparently having said all he’s going to say. “All I can say is, no more shows until it does.”

Shit.Lysander just got done telling me how important the show is to him, then I go and mess it up for him?

I can’t find Lysander in the staff room, either, which means he’s probably gone upstairs. I can’t ditch Orion — a conversation will have to wait.

When I open the door, Lysander is hunched over a book and still dressed in his stage costume. His wings droop and his long hair obscures his face. He looks up when the door opens, and my heart clenches to see his eyes are rimmed with blue.

“Sweets. I’m sorry.” The nickname falls off my lips.

“It’s okay.”

I kick off my shoes and get onto the bed, taking the book from him and setting it on his bedside table. “Should we stop?”

“Stop?” He blinks rapidly, eyes glimmering. “Do you want to stop?”

“Bear told me it’s because you’re fertile. I know how much the show means to you.” Lysander’s face falls, and I hurriedly push on. “I just want to do what’s best for you.”

He frees his hands from my grip and reaches for his buttons. Before I can say anything, he strips out of his costume, tossing itaway. “I don’t want to stop. I don’t regret it. But maybe tonight, we can just do this.”

I let him pull me down to the bed. I kick off my jeans as he arranges me on the bottom. When he’s nestled in my arms, all warmth and firm angles, he sighs.

“It’s embarrassing that Bear knows more about me than I know about myself.”

I tug him close and press a kiss to his hair. “That’s not your fault.”

“My mother didn’t like to talk. She liked when I showed her my clothes. She liked listening to the fauns gossip.” His fingertips drift over my chest restlessly. “I don’t remember much of her, even though it hasn’t been long since she died. She was like a ghost. Sometimes I think she was already mostly gone by the time the fire took her. Just waiting to join my father.”

He falls asleep on me, hand curled in the blanket. His wings twitch in his sleep. His openness is like a drug to me — I want more, and more, and more. I want to reach in and cup his memories and protect them from the evils of the world.

When Jasper abandoned me, I put up walls I never thought would come down. A new one goes up with every door that’s shut in my face since. Lysander walks right through all those walls like they’re nothing. Asking for what he wants, telling me what he feels. His bravery is addictive, and I don’t think I can stop.

Lysander’s words are pretty clear, but his actions are clearer. He’sinsatiable.I worry he’s gonna get tired of doing this all the time — that the novelty will wear off — but the second we’re in his room, he reaches for me. And each time, it’s just as intense as the first time. Electric, sizzling, leaving me panting for breathand aching for more. Blowjobs, handjobs, rubbing against each other frantically, always mindblowingly hot, and always with him whispering — or moaning — “More”in my ear. I’m more than happy to give it to him.

In spite of losing the show, he seems infused with energy. He smiles more freely, comes downstairs more often, and not just when the bar is open. He’s opening up like a pretty spring flower. I do my best to reward him for his courage the only way I know how — by locking the door and making him shake and cry out and pull my hair. When his knees go loose and he finally catches his breath, I rest my cheek on his thigh and wonder how I got so lucky.