Page 47 of Who Owns You?

“What are nest-mates for if not for helping you with shit you don’t wanna do.” He laughs and bounds out the door and down the stairs. “Last one to the laundry room is a rotten egg!”

I roll my eyes but instantly have a better idea. I press myself to the wall and close my eyes, willing the castle to let me through, and in that same breath, I can taste the boggy air. Iclutch the bundle of sheets and blankets tighter as I dive off the tower and plunge toward the ground, catching myself at the last minute with my wings. I land with a thump and sprint for the door. I kick it open and speed toward the basement, where the kitchen, cold storage, and laundry areas are. I come to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.

Julius has his arms around Charlotte, their mouths slotted together with not a breath of space between them.

I can practically see her tongue fucking into his mouth from here. My wings flex and smack against the wall, but I’m too distracted to care. She’s kissing him like there’s nothing she would rather gulp down than his fucking spit.

Envy flares inside my blood, but I stomp off to the laundry room before they pull away and catch sight of me.

Marcus arrives a few minutes later, panting to seem more mortal as he drops the blankets.

“How did you get down here so fast?” he asks with a frown.

“I’ll never let you know my secrets.” I snicker, gathering up all the things that need washing and tossing them into our two separate washers.

The drums are huge and give the items enough space to slosh around and actually get clean. The machines are a recent addition to the castle. Julius much preferred when our laundry was done by hand, so we know how much time and effort it takes to get blood out of fabric. But modern technology was just too good to pass up.

Marcus taps his fingers along the buttons just to make them light up, and I scoff. “Really?”

“Duh, you need to, uh.” He pauses, then looks at what he just clicked. “Need the extra wash cycle and extra soap.”

“Extra of the magic soap that should clean every linen thing in this castle with just a few drops? Obviously, we need more,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“It smells good!” Marcus argues with a whine that nearly makes me miss the slight squeak of the door creaking open.

My eyes slip from my nest-mate to the inquisitive set of eyes peering in at us, and I stiffen, arms folding over my chest in an instant.

“Don’t just stand there and gawk, pest. Come in if you must,” I snap.

The door slams open, knocking against an antique washing basin Julius keeps around for shits and giggles before she stomps in.

“So you’re washing everything, like Julius asked?” Her tone is confused, part question and part defensive posturing.

She seems as confused as I feel.

“The nest should always be kept tidy,” I intone, remembering all the lessons Julius taught me when I first arrived.

Back then, the castle and surrounding town were so different. It’s hard to consider the two the same place, even as I’ve watched the centuries go by.

“Good,” she sniffs, looking at the huge washers and dryers lining the wall of the cramped room. “He should have made you do it by hand. He was telling me you were always the person to come home with the most foul clothing after missions.”

The barest hint of a smile curls at the edge of her lips, and I want so badly to run my tongue along the seam of those post-kiss pink lips.

I clear my throat and shrug. “I’m a little messy, so what?”

“A little?” Marcus snickers. “You basically had half of the loch on you. A few years ago, all you had to do was deal with the kelpies, and you made it seem like you saved the world!”

A few years agowas actually about fifty years ago, if I remember the exact incident correctly. The kelpie didn’t exactly like that I was wearing clothing in the first place, so they dragged me through the mud for nearly half an hour until we hit a rock,and I used it to get myself free of their hold. It was one of the most annoying things I’ve had to deal with when it comes to any sort of protection work, supernatural or mortal. Kelpies are dickheads.

“It’s good you’re taking responsibility.” Charlotte steps farther into the small room, and I retreat on instinct to avoid her touching me again.

A very thin sliver of faux annoyance and posturing keeps me from just grabbing her and kissing the daylights out of her.

It wouldn’tnotmake her a witch, but it would make her shut up for a moment, and I think that might improve my liking of her. She makes me burn all over, but clearly she’s doing something far more to my nest-mates. I want to experience it too, if just for a moment, what it would be like to be entwined with her instead of melted into a puddle of stupidity and anger in the wake of her mere presence.

“Hey, Char, do you wanna come to my room and see all my balls?” Marcus asks, sensing the tension growing thicker in the air and doing his best to cut it.

The witch giggles and takes the hand Marcus offers. He sweeps her out of the room, and I crumple against the wall, breathing hard.

---