Page 88 of Evil Hearts

Sleeping Arrangements

Light poured over us the moment we passed through the doorway. I blinked, squinting in the brightness as my eyes adjusted; a soft snick was the only sound as Ruven closed the door behind us.

“What the fuck , Ru,” a tenor voice said.

I squinted until I could make him out: tanned skin, a tumble of dark brown hair, a small black sigil tattooed just below the corner of his left eye. Young-looking—but then, all the fae were young-looking, and the sharp ears cutting through his shoulder-length waves definitely marked him as fae.

“Ah, Syalin,” Ruven said brightly. “I’d like to introduce you to my lady Avalon Hartley, and before you loose that lecture on the tip of your tongue, do consider why I might introduce her in such a fashion,” he finished, not putting any space between the sentences.

Syalin, who indeed looked like he was about to launch into a tirade, snapped his jaw shut with an audible clack.

Ruven flashed him a beatific smile and walked over to the narrow cot in the small, white-washed room. He set me down with care, tracing his fingers down my thighs. “To finally formalize our meeting,” he said in a low voice, looking up at me from his position on one knee, “I am the Lord Castellan of Celedeis, first and bastard son of the Sovereign Princess Ulesteny Kalaine, and one of the most talented shapeshifters that has ever lived. As such, I’m probably the most important spy for the Court of Bones. They call me the Harrower of Dreams.”

Syalin made a sound of disgust. “You’re such a gods-damned narcissist, Ru.”

Ruven turned and gave Syalin a pretty smile, shifting into his monstrous form as he did, his fangs dropped forward into an aggressive position. “How does it feel, being my handler?”

“Bad,” Syalin said, completely deadpan. “Are you aware that there’s at least four separate sets of people searching for you? And Lady Hartley, presumably.”

He got a dismissive wave. “We’re here, we’re safe, and we’re mostly uninjured. Avalon’s hurt her foot, though, so we ought to deal with that before we head out.”

Syalin heaved a sigh and dropped down into a wooden chair, resting his weight across his thighs. “So. You’re his soulmate, hmm? That explains a great deal.” His blue eyes slid over to Ruven, who was still on his knees with his hands on my legs. “Do you have any plan at all for handling your superiors? Ten thousand gold is an outrageous sum—”

Ruven cut him off with a sharp hiss. “Don’t insult me. I spent my own gold. I expect we’ll have to entertain someone from Fyttoren despite being a rich nobleman, the life of a spy wasn’t a safe one. He undressed my foot with the worshipful touch of a man in the presence of a goddess and pulled not one, but two shards of olive-green glass out of my sole.

His thumbs traced circles across the bottom of my foot as he massaged the healing ointment into my skin and kept moving, turning necessity into pleasure as the wound on my foot closed and the pain faded into memory. Ruven treated each of my scrapes and bruises with the same focused attention, then showed me the small bathroom so I could get ready for bed.

He was dressed in only his underwear when I emerged and gave me one long, lingering look before he ducked into the closet-sized room to do his own ablutions. I didn’t have anything to sleep in but my clothes, so I peeled off my pants and tugged my bra out from under my shirt before getting into the bed. The cot was thin, but the sheets were clean and starched, and the light blanket would keep me from freezing to death, at least.

Ruven padded out and closed the shield for the lamp without speaking. He slid into the bed behind me, fitting his body to mine. The touch of his bare thighs against the back of my legs made me shiver, my stomach doing flip-flops as the heat of his body soaked into me. I tensed, though, when his arm went around me, halfway between wanting him to start something and being terrified that he would.

“Sleeping only, Avalon,” he said in a rough voice, sounding ashamed. “I promise. If it makes you feel better, I don’t even have to have genitals.”

I blinked. “Uh…”

“I’m an extraordinarily talented shapeshifter,” he said, relaxing against me. “Brilliant, even. Coveted by spymasters and houses of pleasure alike.”

“If only you had the least bit of humility,” I said, smiling despite myself.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ruven asked airily. He nuzzled me. “Are you alright like this, or do you want me to slip into something less gorgeous?”

“I’m fine,” I said with a huffed laugh. “You can stay gorgeous.”

“Sleep well, then, soulmate.” I felt his lips twitch. “As well as one can on a cot suited for one, with a needy man plastered against your back.”

“Night-night,” I murmured, already drifting into sleep. The last thing I remembered before dreams took me was the gentle caress of his tail curling around my ankle, and the soft sound of his contented sigh.