Page 52 of Third Offense

This female is a problem.

No, this entire palace was a problem.

Netiri continued to try and “help” which always seemed to end with her far too close to me.

First, she reached around me to grab the salt.

Then, when I started dicing vegetables on the other side of the counter, she leaned over it to show me a full view of her cleavage while she complimented my use of a knife.

I nearly threatened to stab her with it if she didn’t keep her distance. I wasn’t sure what kind of game she was playing, or if she was like this with every male.

But I reminded myself that we were guests here. I wasn’t looking to make a scene.

I just needed to make Layla breakfast and leave.

A task that seemed to take ages with Netiri constantly trying to “assist.”

I hurried out of there as soon as I had prepared my mates’ meals, escaping without saying goodbye.

Hopefully she’d get the hint, but I very much doubted it.

When I entered the safety of Layla’s room, I couldn’t help but feel like there was a bigger issue at play here than Netiri’s forward behavior.

Layla and Novak lazily kissed in bed as I entered, then regarded me with sleepy, satisfied expressions just like every other damn day this week.

Normally that wouldn’t bother me.

Today it did.

Because something wasn’t right and I seemed to be the only one having a problem.

We’d habitually served Layla in bed, so I set up the tray as Novak draped a robe around her bare shoulders. She’d grown comfortable with life without wings, and that bothered me, too.

“Omelet?” she asked with a delighted smile. “I didn’t know you knew how to make those.”

She sliced it open, took a bite, and arched a brow at me.

“I don’t,” I replied, then turned sober while I watched her eat.

She didn’t seem perturbed by the sameness of our days at all. It made me feel like I was going crazy, especially when she started telling Novak that we should all go for a swim, as if we didn’t do that every fucking day.

“Why don’t you go see your mother?” I suggested after Layla had finished her omelet.

She wiped her mouth and rested her napkin over her plate. “But I’ll see her later today. Why would I go to her now?”

I shrugged. “Just to mix it up.”

Novak gave me a look because he rightfully concluded that I wanted to talk to him.

It wasn’t something I could pinpoint, which made it possibly nothing.

But I’d learned to listen to my gut as a commander, and I wasn’t going to stop now.

Layla and I stared at each other until she released a long sigh.

“All right. We can swim later then,” she said, sliding from the bed. She chose a pair of pants and a sweater today, rather than a dress, and fluffed her hair before turning her gaze back to me. “Everything’s okay, right? You’re not trying to get rid of me?”

Something inside of me twisted at the thought of lying to her, so I didn’t. “I’d like to speak to Novak about a few things,” I said truthfully. “Nothing too important. Just warrior shit.” I didn’t want to worry her, but I needed to figure out what the problem was before I could even begin to address it.