Page 50 of Eat. Prey. Love. (Apex Academy Capers #5)

I pace around the narrow confines of the room we all share when we’re with our girl, each step feeling like a thunderous echo against the hardwood. My wings twitch with anticipation; tonight is a culmination of centuries, a night when I can share the city of lights with mon amour .

I’ve wanted to do this for a long time and eventually, I want Aubrey to come along to see it as well.

The bathroom door creaks open, and she steps out like a vision from an Impressionist’s dream. The dress clings to her curves, a cascade of silk that mirrors the Seine under moonlight. Her hair, a storm of colors, frames her face in a way that would make the aurora borealis envious. Sparkling jewels catch the artificial light, casting prismatic dances across the walls.

“ Mon Dieu ...” The words slip from me, soft as the Parisian breeze.

“Too much?” she teases, her voice lilting with that familiar snark that sets my heart ablaze.

“ Parfait ,” I insist, catching myself before I flit across the room to her side.

Restraint, Renard. You’re a creature of old world charm tonight, not an animal. She deserves romance and escape.

“Good thing you wore that sleek suit, love. Can’t have you look shabby next to snack size, now can we?” Aubrey mutters from the corner, his grumpy tone belied by the affectionate glint in his eye.

I offer him a wry smile, knowing his barbs are rooted in love. “It’s not possible for me to look shabby, mon ami . Gargoyles are timeless creatures of elegance and Giselle..”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Aubrey hums, flipping through a magazine with disinterest. “Just remember you have to pick up our results, love. You’re buzzing around like a moth in a lamp shop, and I’m concerned you’re turning into Fitzgerald.”

“Never.” I scoff as I watch Dolly put on her jewelry. “Paris holds so much of my past. Sharing it with our mate is everything.”

“Then don’t keep the lady waiting,” Aubrey says with a smirk. “Get your poetic ass in gear and head out before you decide not to go anywhere. Or worse… before Fitz decides you’re not going.”

Taking a deep breath, I extend my elbow to Dolly. “Shall we?”

She links her arm in mine, her laughter the melody that has scored my life since I met her. We leave the room, stepping into the night, and I feel the weight of centuries lift off my shoulders. Tonight, I am her romantic guide through the city that pulses in my veins, the city I once watched over from Notre Dame’s highest tower.

“Lead the way, mon gargoyle,” Dolly says, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Prepare to fall in love with Paris,” I promise, and we head into the evening, the stars above winking their approval at our grand adventure.

Hopefully, she loves it even half as much as I love her

We walk to the front of the library where the fancy sports car the Captain procured awaits, gleaming under the streetlights like a predator at rest. I help Dolly into the passenger seat before sliding into the driver’s side, feeling the leather hug my frame. The engine purrs to life, a symphony of mechanical precision that sends a thrill through me.

As we weave through the streets of Paris, the city unfurls before us, a tapestry of lights and shadows. Dolly leans back, her eyes roaming over the buildings as if trying to stitch together the story of my past from their facades.

“Tell me about when you lived here as a wee gargoyle,” she urges, her voice awed as she looks around.

“During the 1400s, Paris was...” I begin, and the words flow from me, painting a vivid picture of a city wracked by plague and war. “The Hundred Years War was not just about humans, ma petite . Shifters and mages played their parts in the shadows, tipping scales and weaving spells.”

“One of those books we’ve been reading said that Joan of Arc was a lion shifter?” Dolly interjects with a raised eyebrow, her tone skeptical. “I don’t know how they hid that in battle. It seems like it would be really hard with all those humans around.”

“ Oui , she was.” I nod, feeling the familiar ache of old memories. “She fought valiantly to restore balance when the mage and shifter territory battle threatened the humans. They said her roar was as fierce as her conviction, but I never met her.”

“Learning the truth about history is kind of a bummer,” she sighs, shaking her head. “I feel like the bad guy by association. We’re lying to the humans—that’s not such a big deal. But the prey animals have been relegated to a servant class and magic users were locked in a prison—so to speak. It feels icky as hell.”

I give her a wry smile. “The truth is often uncomfortable, Dolly. While I knew the magical beings probably got a raw deal, I was sent away young like Flames. We lost the power to affect change when our families cut us out—though it’s not really an excuse, I suppose. We were too damaged to do anything but wallow in seclusion.”

“Rennie, you were kids.” Her hand covers mine and she smiles softly. “That’s like saying I should have been doing something radical when I was trapped with Lucille and Bruno. Feeling guilty about the past doesn’t help anyone—what are we doing now? That will help people.”

My eyes dance as I squeeze her fingers for a moment, then return to shifting. “Always keeping us from self-centered brooding, that’s you, lapin . You’re not quite sunshine, but you do keep the clouds away.”

Our conversation turns, dancing between epochs and legends until the Louvre looms before us, majestic even in the dark. We’re guided to a discreet back entrance where a figure larger than life waits. Dolly’s breath catches as the gorilla shifter greets us with a nod, his size eclipsing the doorway.

“Got your results,” he rumbles, handing me the envelope. His hand engulfs mine briefly, the exchange grounding in its brevity. “Aubrey said it was important so I muscled the samples through the red tape and line. He owes me one; it wasn’t easy.”

“ Merci ,” I say, tucking the envelope away. “We will examine them later with our complete family. Aubrey and the others will provide a myriad of viewpoints that will help us interpret your data.”

“Makes sense,” the gorilla shifter agrees. “Have the dragon contact me if he needs more assistance. Au revoir et bonne chance ? 1 .”

I’ve never seen a pred as big as that meld into the shadows, but this guy damn near disappears as we head back to the car. “Everyone Flames knows is so fucking weird. It’s mind boggling.”

Dolly pulls out her phone, fingers dancing over the screen as she texts the group. “As opposed to those he loves?

She’s got me there.

BabyGirl: Samples secured, guys.

TigerKing: Are you headed home?

EmoBatman: Of course not, Raj. We have a date to go on.

TigerKing: I don’t like the thought of you leaving them in a car while you prance about Paris.

TigerWoody: What if they don’t prance? What if they just mosey?

LustyLibrarian: For fuck’s sake, Fitz…

BabyGirl: You guys should put that on a tee-shirt. You say it enough.

LustyLibrarian: He MAKES us say it, lunchable. And he does it on purpose.

EmoBatman: …

TigerWoody: You’d better not be texting while you’re driving my Baby Girl, you winged wanker! That’s dangerous as fuck.

TigerKing: For once, I agree.

BabyGirl: You all need to calm down. Rennie is driving fine; I have his phone to transcribe. Stop motherhenning me. We’ll be fine and he just said to tell Felix that the trunk has some sort of lock box he can put the stuff in.

I chuckle as she clicks her phone screen off and puts both of our devices in her purse. “Just like that, hmm?”

“Absolutely,” she says with a wink. “This is our date now, and I don’t want them intruding, no matter how well-intentioned.”

Fuck she’s hot when she’s taking charge.

The Parisian sky peels back its cover, revealing a tapestry of stars as we sit beneath the gaping roof of L’étoile Ouverte . The clink of fine china and the murmur of conversation harmonize with the sweet serenade of a violin player tucked in the corner of the terrace. It’s an ambiance that breathes romance, the perfect setting for a night steeped in history and amour.

“Can you imagine,” I say to Dolly, my voice barely above a whisper, “the artists who walked these streets? The poets and musicians who spilled their hearts into the Seine?”

She leans forward, the candlelight dancing in her rainbow-hued hair, casting prismatic shadows on the tablecloth. “You don’t have to, Rennie. You lived it. Tell me about the 1500s now…about your Paris.”

I smile, savoring the coq au vin that melts on my tongue like a savory memory. “ C’était une époque de renaissance ? 2 ,” I begin, describing the revival of art and beauty that bloomed even as the old world crumbled. I tell her of hidden salons where preds and prey gathered to discuss philosophy and sculpture, where we debated under the moonlight, animated by the magic of the city .

“Sounds enchanting,” she sighs, her eyes reflecting the constellations above us.

“Paris has always been magical, mon amour ,” I reply, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.

As the final note from the nearby violin trembles into silence, I can hardly contain my excitement for the next surprise. “Dolly, are you ready for the pièce de résistance of our evening?”

Her grin is all the answer I need.

We leave the restaurant, the cool night air wrapping around us like a cloak. I lead her down cobblestone alleys until the distant echo of an organ fills the air. A shiver of anticipation courses through me. This surprise is one I had to use the hyperactive tiger to dig up, and I know she will adore it. I quietly made certain that we were both dressed for the occasion by nudging her polar bear friend and acquiring my own attire from the city via Captain’s special delivery.

And she has not sensed it in the slightest, which means she’ll be completely taken aback.

“Where are we?” Dolly asks, her voice laced with curiosity. “I didn’t expect to be wandering around this part of the city, to be honest. I thought you’d take me to see your bells, or maybe to the Moulin Rouge .”

My smile is mysterious and she huffs a bit until we happen upon the back alley door. I knock three times, and it opens, revealing an elegant waiting room. She arches a brow, her expression curious.

“We’re going to a cathouse?”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “Welcome to the Phantom’s lair.” Handing her a delicate white mask, feathers fluttering at its edges, I grin, then take mine out of my inside jacket pocket .

Her eyes sparkle as she takes in my all-black suit, the stark contrast of my newly donned Phantom mask. “Rennie… what did you do?”

“I found an escape, no matter how brief, from the pressures of the world we’re living in. Come with me, my Angel of Music.” My eyes dance at the reference and she squeals, then slaps her hand over her mouth when the other people in the foyer give her amused looks.

We enter the grand ballroom, already alive with masked figures swirling in time to the haunting melody of . Taking her hand, I draw her into the dance, our movements fluid, as if the music itself guides us. Laughter bubbles from her lips, and the sound is more intoxicating than the finest champagne.

“ Je t’adore ,” I whisper against her ear as we spin, her dress fanning out like the wings of a vibrant butterfly.

“ Je t’adore plus ,” she responds, her voice a playful challenge.

This will be one of the best memories I’ve made since I left my clutch, and I’m going to savor every minute of it.

The music fades to a distant thrum in my ears as I guide Dolly away from the pulsing heart of the ballroom. Our steps are unsteady, betraying our tipsy state, but there’s an urgency that sobers my thoughts. A side room looms ahead—a sanctuary veiled in shadows and secrecy.

“Rennie...” she breathes out as I close the door. Her voice is husky, laced with desire and the sweet burn of champagne.

She’s even more beautiful when she’s unencumbered by the bullshit of reality.

“ Oui, mon amour ,” I reply, my words barely a whisper over the sound of our racing hearts .

My back presses against the cold, stone wall, pulling her to me with a hunger that has been simmering beneath the surface all evening. Her rainbow hair cascades around us, a riot of color against my black suit. In the dim light, her curves are accentuated by the tight embrace of her dress, and I trace the outline of her body with hands eager to explore.

“Your wings,” she gasps, as I allow the gargoyle out and they unfurl. They brush against her skin with a touch as soft as moonlight, and she looks up at me with the red-tinted eyes of her bunny.

“ Et tes oreilles ,” I murmur in reply, reaching up to caress the velvet texture of her bunny ears. They twitch with every pulse of excitement, which is adorable and sexy as hell. My tail coils around her leg, an additional caress that draws a shiver from her lips.

The last time we were alone like this, I chased her and we were rough, but this time, I want to be soft.

“Renard,” she sighs, the sound spurring me on.

I lean forward, my lips finding hers in a kiss that speaks of centuries of longing. The taste of her is intoxicating, more potent than any spirit we’ve imbibed tonight. Her hands roam over my form, finding the horns that adorn my head, her touch sending jolts of pleasure through me. We still have our masks on, but I don’t care because no matter what she looks like, Delores Drew is my mate.

She is ours—together.

“ Je t’aime ,” she whispers against my mouth, her breath mingling with mine.

“ Je t’aime tant ,” I confess, the words tumbling out amidst the tangle of emotions that she inspires within me. “Finding you after I’d already found him… I never thought I could be that lucky twice, but here we are. And I will do anything… face anything… to protect the family we’ve made.”

Her lips curve up and the firm tone of her voice says everything when she replies, “I will burn the entire world down to save any one of you, Renard. If it comes down to saving the preds or my family? I will channel the ruthlessness in my DNA without blinking an eye to keep my mates and my friends safe. Can you live with that?”

Brushing a wisp of hair off of her face, I laugh. “ Ma petite , none of us would expect any less. Between you and Fitzgerald, I don’t even know if Flames would get to use his fire before you razed the entire battlefield.”

“Good. Because you’re right—Fitz and I have a very similar thought process when it comes to those we love. That’s why his stalking doesn’t bother me.”

I wrap my arms and wings around her tightly, flipping us around so her back is against the wall. “Are we done talking about your other lovers or…?”

She lets out a husky laugh, then reaches up to touch her amulet. Her clothes disappear and I know that’s her answer. I do the same, leaving us naked but for the masks and her sparkly jewelry. “Time for another dance, my broody gargoyle.”

Within moments, our bodies are synchronized in a primal rhythm. Her nails graze my skin as she holds on, each stroke igniting sparks that threaten to consume us both. The room blurs into a tapestry of sensation: the softness of her lips against mine, the heady perfume of her hair, and the warmth of her skin against the chill of my onyx hide.

“Rennie,” she moans, her voice crescendoing as our pace speeds up. “Staying quiet is getting hard.”

I can feel her heartbeat, rapid and wild against my chest, as we rocket towards orgasm. A symphony of whispered endearments and ragged breaths fills the room, our very beings entwined in the most intimate of duets. “You promised, mon c?ur. We don’t want to be discovered in this state.”

“Why the hell do I care?” she growls as her hands sink into my hair, tugging on my horns in a way she knows drives me crazy.

The rumble of my laughter doesn’t stop our coupling, but I growl back at her. “We’re shifted, petite . There are… humans in this place.”

“Always in the fucking way of fun,” she mutters. She darts forward to bite my lower lip, then licks it. “Take me to the stars, my poetic gargoyle, and then we’ll head home where I can scream as loud as I want.”

That is the best plan I’ve heard all night.