Page 149 of This Vicious Dream

“Why didn’t you tell me who I am earlier? Why did you lie for so long?”

Eamonn sighs. “I didn’t lie. I just chose the right time to tell you. What would you have done if you’d learned this information earlier, before you truly began to feel something for him?”

I would have run.

Slowly, I get to my feet. “Fliora?”

“I’ll take care of her.”

My head is spinning, my knees weak. “What am I supposed to do tomorrow when he goes after the grimoire?”

“You’re the other half of Calysian’s soul. That means you can access his power too. Forget trying to get to the grimoire before him. You need to gowithhim. When he takes the second grimoire, he’ll be distracted. You can take his link to the third grimoire, ensuring he won’t be able to locate it.”

I grit my teeth. Eamonn isn’t giving me any advice to help me take and hide the second grimoire. He’s willing to let Calysian become even more powerful.

Fine. I have my own plans in place.

“And tonight? Do I tell him who he is to me?”

Eamonn’s eyes glitter with sympathy. “Only you can make that decision.”

Calysian

Madinia is bone-white when she returns, and despite the dark clouds roiling within my mind, I can’t help but go to her, clasping her shoulders.

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Madinia.”

“Later.” Her eyes hold mine pleadingly, and I sigh. When she offers me a crooked smile, I pull her further into the room.

I’ve wandered this world for centuries, and yet my chest still puffs out when her eyes glitter with appreciation.

This woman was raised in a castle, and since she met me, she has spent her nights in tiny, ill-equipped inns, and on sleeping mats on the hard ground. She’s never complained. But I have a need to ensure her comfort tonight.

The bath I ordered for her is still steaming—I had the water refreshed after washing away the dust of our travels while she was getting herfresh air. Madinia wanders to the paneled dressing screen in the corner, peering around it to the tub beyond.

She glances over her shoulder at me with a wicked smirk, and my body heats. Stepping behind the screen, she drops her shirt, purposefully leaving it on the floor next to the screen, in my full view.

Her leather leggings are next, and it takes her a little longer to remove them. I harden as I picture her easing them down those long, smooth legs. My muscles twitch with the urge to stalk behind that screen and bend her over the tub.

She’s toying with me.

But I like the games we play.

She throws her leggings over the screen, and I angle my head, watching hungrily as the candlelight flickers, providing me with a silhouette of her incredible body. She bends, one hand trailing low to check the temperature of the water, and steps into the bath, sinking down with a throaty moan.

I nearly groan in response.

“Need me to wash your back?” My voice is rough, and Madinia lets out a low laugh.

“I think I can manage.”

The air is humid, steam drifting through the room, and I yank at the neckline of my shirt.

The fabric tears, and I curse, stripping it off and dropping it to the floor.

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