Page 47 of Shadow

“Ha,” I responded, taking a sip. My other hand slid over the bedspread, enjoying its smooth texture. “My eyes aren’t bouncing.”

“It’s called nystagmus,” he explained, watching me closely. “Your law enforcement used it for years to prove impairment.”

“Your law enforcement too,” I countered, though my spinning head was making it hard to focus. For some reason, the dizziness made King somehow prettier.

I giggled, and his brow furrowed slightly. “What do you find so entertaining?” he asked, keeping his slight grin.

“You’re pretty,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. My hand flew to my mouth, covering it in mortification. Did I really just say that?

He laughed, a deep, rich sound. “Pretty has never been a word used to describe this ugly mug.” He scratched his jaw, the rasp of his fingers over his five o’clock shadow filling the silence. The scar on his face caught the light, and I made a mental note to ask him about it someday, when I was sober enough to remember his answer.

“Okay, not pretty,” I conceded. “Just, I don’t know, interesting, maybe?”

“I find you interesting too,” he replied, more on the serious side now.

Oh boy. Were we going to have sex? Did I say that out loud? He didn’t react, so I guessed not.

“You’re good at giving compliments,” I said instead, flashing a wide grin.

His hand moved to my leg, fingers trailing lightly up the side of my calf. His focus sharpened, and he watched the movement as if captivated.

“Soft,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“Do you have a girlfriend or wife?” I asked, my words spilling out before I could think better of it. He had just touched me, and that could lead to other things. Knowing whether he was attached was definitely something I should find out.

His hand moved away, and his expression shifted to the arrogant mask I had become so accustomed to. “I’m King. I don’t have time for women,” he said.

I couldn’t help but laugh at his sheer egotistical grandeur. But as my laughter faded, other thoughts stirred. “Is King your title or your name?” I asked, unable to ignore the strange new awareness humming through me.

His voice was rough. “It’s both.”

“Why aren’t you naked?”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Come again?”

“I was told Shadow Warriors preferred no clothing and ran naked through the night,” I slurred slightly. “Problem was, I haven’t seen a single one of you naked. Is your naked body classified information, something you’re hiding from the Federation?”

Another grin tugged at his lips, and he shook his head. “That’s an old wives’ tale. We were raised as humans, just like you. My mother would’ve whipped my butt if I ran around naked after about four.”

Even through the haze of alcohol, his explanation made sense. But it sparked another thought. Were the rumors about their, uh, size exaggerated too? My fingers tightened around the glass, and I drank the last of the rum, the liquid burned pleasantly as it slid down my throat.

Warmth pooled low in my belly, and my eyelids felt heavier by the second. My body was torn between two priorities: sleep and the heat simmering deep inside. “If you planned on hanky-panky, get started,” I murmured. “I don’t know how long I can stay conscious.”

His hand slid just a fraction higher on my leg, sending a pleasant shiver through me. But then he stopped, his tone amused. “Go to sleep. I don’t have hanky-panky with inebriated women.”

I cracked one eye open and caught the faintest glint of laughter in his expression, even though he wasn’t making a sound.

“Your loss,” I mumbled, my words trailing off as my eyes closed. Monsters and hellhounds were distant concerns now. Sleep claimed me, pulling me under before I could confirm whether the king of arrogance was still in the room.

Chapter Eighteen

King

Iwatched her sleep. Her soft snoring started within minutes. It was oddly comforting, a sound that had no place in my life, and yet I lingered. I couldn’t help but smile. If I was lucky, she would remember every word tomorrow.

I decided to try something I had been curious about since discovering Beast’s volatile reaction to her. While she was out cold, I allowed him to come to the forefront, carefully balancing his presence without fully transforming. It was a delicate process, but my inquisitiveness got the better of me.

Beast leaned forward, his instincts driving us closer, and sniffed her bare leg. He didn’t touch her. Not yet.

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