Page 38 of The Light Within

Cinn shrugged. “But she doesn’t even have eyes!”

“Exactly!”

A ripple of energy shot through Béatrice, flowing seamlessly into Cinn like a gentle stream merging with a larger river.

It should have been terrifying. Instead, it was… invigorating. Whereas before he’d been so tired, he now possessed a surge of alertness. A thrum of power. Power he’d never felt outside the shadowrealm before.

“We’re like… connecting or some shit,” Cinn tried to explain. This wasn’t going to do Julien’s jealousy over Cinn’s relationship with his dead sister come demon cat any good, was it?

“Oh?” Julien unfolded, then refolded his arms. “Are you now?” He paused, shaking his head. “Of course you are. She won’t even sniff me and yet she’s happy to fawn all over you.”

At the sad look in Julien’s eyes he failed to hide, Cinn scooped up the shadow cat. The way she felt had changed—previously his hands glided through her like smoke, but now he could feel the tension in her muscles. “Here we go.” He placed her gently on Julien’s lap. “Be nice.”

The cat hissed lowly. She emitted a low, discontented growl, her form shifting. Before Cinn could react, the cat sprung off Julien, then darted into the shadows in the corner of the dark room, disappearing with a flicker of movement.

She was out of sight, but not out of presence; Cinn could still feel the subtle tether of their connection lingering.

What the fuck was that all about? He wasn’t convinced he needed some psychic cosmic connection with a cat made of shadows complicating his life.

“Well then,” said Julien. “I guess I shouldn’t interfere with yourspecial bondagain.”

Cinn gave him a playful push, nudging him further back onto the bed. “Don’t be sad. I’ll cuddle you instead.”

Julien’s huff ghosted across his cheek as Cinn rested his weight on top of him, sliding his hand across Julien’s thighs through his pyjama bottoms, the silky ones Cinn loved feeling against his skin in bed.

“I suppose there’s significantly less risk of you scratching and biting me.” Julien’s playful grin was just evident in the dim light. His eyes roamed across Cinn’s face, landing on his lips.

Cinn let out a low laugh. “That’s normally your job. But anyway, we better put your nice mistletoe to use, right?”

In answer, Julien captured the skin of his neck with his teeth, teetering on that thin ledge between pleasure and pain that he knew how to navigate so well. Julien’s tongue pressed against his pulse point, and Cinn pushed himself down to grind against him, to let him know exactly how hard Julien had made him so easily. He wasn’t surprised by it—Cinn’s body was quickly becoming conditioned to Julien’s touch. Every time they fucked, the experience somehow grew with intensity. Intimacy with Julien was becoming a visceral need, an addiction he was all too happy to crave and feed.

Though, behind it was that tiny seed of doubt that sometimes reared its ugly head—what if their unlikely connection was nothing more than a fleeting spark destined to burn out?

The shred of fear ignited into a wildfire of panic, and Cinn brought Julien’s lips up to him to kiss him deeply, allowing the heat and passion behind it to overwhelm his senses, burn the negative thoughts away.

Julien’s tongue slowed, and he pushed up on Cinn’s chest. He stared up at Cinn, face a soft mask of affection.

“What?”

“I just wanted to see your beautiful eyes for a second,mon amour,” he said, in the softest whisper of breath, mouth curving up into a gentle, vulnerable smile that nestled itself into Cinn’s mind, making a home there.

Cinn swallowed.

No, theirs was a flame that would endure the fiercest storm that tried to extinguish it. Cinn would make sure of it.

Because life without his infuriating princeling by his side would be very dull and very dim.

Abruptly, Julien’s muscles tensed.

He flicked his eyes to the left. “Is she still watching us?”

“No doubt about it,” Cinn replied.

Julien groaned, picking up a pillow and throwing it into the dark corner where Béatrice had intertwined herself with the shadows.

“Yep. That will do it.”

nine

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