Page 137 of Bonds of Starfall

He smirked, mouthing,I’ll be good.

He wasn’t good.

His tongue flicked out, tracing over her navel. She flinched; her voice hitched as she spoke.

He was so consumed by lust, her words didn’t register until he heard her say:

"Fine, I’ll be there in twenty."

The phone clattered as it hit the counter. She pulled him up with her hands on his shoulders. Cyrus took the opportunity to drift his hands over her thighs, hips, curves of her waist, and sides of her breasts. She shivered, but her damned hands shoved against him.

"I have to go, Cy." The name slipped off her tongue, and he saw the shock in her eyes. "My parents want to meet me for a late dinner at their house. I can’t ignore them."

He pouted down at her. "You have to go? We were just getting to the good part. I want to taste you."

"I—yes. I can’tnotgo. You have to stay here. In my room. I’ll be back in a couple of hours."

Vesperin stepped around him, but he caught her wrist and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"I’ll be good. Promise."

"I know what your version of good entails. It’s not enough," she joked quietly, but something simmered in her eyes. Trepidation? He wished he could open his senses and sip at her emotion to get a clear read on it. She collected her phone. "A few hours."

Cyrus danced around the counter, trailing her as she walked to the door. "And when you get back…"

"I’ll go to sleep, and so will you. Separately," she stressed.

"We’ll see," Cyrus murmured.

Lucien fitthe spare key in Vesperin’s door. He didn’t know what he was doing here. He had no excuse if he ran into her roommate.

He had just needed her. But she wasn’t here, so he settled for the next best thing.

It had been a long day of tests at the lab in Nova Zone 21, and he was spiraling after what he saw in the folder.

He’d driven through the quiet, dark streets, windows down—tempting fate with the increased Rogue warnings. As if propelled by his subconscious, he had found himself at the Academy gates, walking up the stairs of the sleep-soaked dorms. It was nearing 4 AM, hours before the trainees would stir, and these lonely halls would be filled with people.

As he opened the door to her apartment, he stared at his phone in his hand, the chat with her opened, waiting on pins and needles for another text from her.

The door closed behind him—he didn’t lock it—and he held his breath, staring into the dark, empty kitchen.

Her roommate wasn’t home.

Lucien sighed, fumbling for the light switch. It flicked on, illuminating the kitchen. The blinds in the tiny living space were drawn, but he knew it was still dark as pitch outside.

Why was Lucien here? This was a new low, even for him.

He turned to leave, but the soft click of a door opening made him stall.

He clenched his jaw as he turned to the hallway, still cast in shadows.

A man with deep red hair rounded the corner, a soft word trailing from his lips like smoke. "Vesper…" The man paused, a hand on the wall. "You’re not Vesperin."

Lucien called on his Stella. Vines curled around his fingers in warning. "Who are you?"

The man stumbled. As he inched out of the shadows of the hall and stepped into the light of the kitchen, Lucien saw it.

Purpleeyes.