Page 58 of Taken By the Lord of the Nocturne Court

I clear my throat, remembering the last time I got a glimpse of my brother and the Marquise in bed. It would be an understatement if I said I didn’t plan on continuing that arrangement. Not because there was anything wrong with the beautiful lady herself. The only thing I could fault her for was falling for someone as vapid and self-centered as my twin.

That, and being of the female persuasion.

“I’m perfectly content in his presence,” I say and adjust my cravat to avoid Tristan’s gaze.

“Is it the novelty of the connection? He is pretty, but you’ve always focused on women…” Tristan cocks his head, and his golden eyes glow with the need for gossip.

I’ve stepped in as my brother many times, but rarely in situations requiring social skills. At least the practice I did get means I’m not completely out of my depth.

I lick my lips as memories of last night flood back, showing me the plains of Luke’s back arching and stretching as I mounted him. Sweat glistening on flesh like diamond dust. Moans like the softest music.

I cover myself with my cape as I take a deep breath, trying to control myself. The hold Luke has over me is unmatched by anything I ever experienced.

“He is… magnificent in every way.”

Tristan turns to look at my future Companion. I want to blindfold him, just in case, but I know Tristan is my most loyal guard. He wouldn’t risk my wrath. “Is it different with a human? Or is it the betrothal bond between shadows that makes a difference?”

Doesit make a difference? How can I know when I have never as much as kissed anyone before Luke?

Does it even matter?”

“He enchants me like no one else. Maybe once you take a Dark Companion of your own, you will understand.”

I expect some silly dig from Tristan, as that was often his dynamic with Kyranis, but he smiles, watching Luke become more animated. “He really has changed you. I don’t know if that’s possible for me, but if there’s anyone who could keep me loyal and interested, it would probablybe a human. They’re so… different.”

“So fragile,” I agree. “I’ll need your help to keep him safe, cousin,” I say to make sure he understands I consider him my family. But my attention is again on Luke’s smiling lips, on long arms I want to feel around me.

I have wanted men before, but never the way I desire him.

“With my life,” Tristan says. “It’s been so many years since we’ve had Companions at court. Some of the courtiers might have forgotten what the addition of his shadow means.”

But the truth is, I’m not thinking of Luke’s potent shadow right now. I’m far too busy considering the way he looks at me when I touch him, or how he offers me his body.

Me. Not Kyranis, who wasn’t worthy of my Luke.

He knows who I am and kisses me with so much passion I could drown in the waters of his tenderness.

I know his soul isn’t mine yet. But it will be. I have time to make him trust me and forget the world he needs to leave behind.

When Marquise Coralis starts walking my way, I pretend not to see her and head for Luke instead. I will talk to her another time, but right now I need to make sure Luke isn’t conflicted about the execution. Some humans can be gentle like that.

One gesture sends a couple of courtiers still left in the room aside, and I stride for the figure in red stockings. I’ve picked out every piece of clothing he’s wearing, and right now I wish to undress him, just so I can have something that already carries his scent.

Will he notice my presence behind him? Will he look my way?

No. His senses are so painfully human I could slit his throat and he wouldn’t even realize what happened before he died. Of course, I would never as much as scratch his pretty neck, but it only reminds me how protective I need to be of him.

“…and then when you throw them into the bathtub, they fizz, making the water colorful and bubbly. I prefer painting to making bath bombs, but those are harder to sell.”

I am at a loss for words.

“You… paint?” I ask, staring at the top of Luke’s head until he spins around and meets my gaze.

Ah, his mouth is like the softest of pillows, and I would have tasted it now if it wasn't bad manners.

He swallows when our eyes meet, and the red liner under his eyes makes his appearance much more demonic than his nature truly is. Can’t say I don’t like it.

“Y-yes, but it’s not very good,” he says, raising his hands. “I don’t have so much time out of work to practice.”