Page 53 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs
Nor grabs the skyball prodigy’s hand and shakes it vigorously. “Alk, how’s it goin’, kid?”
The tall, muscular gargoyle blushes a dark purple as he dips his head respectfully at Ama and me. “All good, Coach. Doing a little sightseeing in one of my favorite havens.”
I risk a glance at Manorin, but I know neither of us believe that story. Hadrian’s likely here being wined and dined by the Punishers’ coach.
Manorin gestures at the other Evertons. “Hadrian, this isBetmal of House Zeniphon, and, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name…”
Ama blushes deeply but holds out a hand for Hadrian’s. “Amatheia, also of House Zeniphon.”
Betmal shoots me a wicked, pleased grin before turning the smile on Hadrian. “My mate, of course.”
Hadrian flashes a toothy grin at our group. “Looks like I interrupted y’all in the middle of dancing, and I’m not one to stop monsters from having fun. I’m gonna do a little tour around. I was supposed to be meeting a friend here, but I don’t see him yet.”
“Have a good time, kid,” Manorin says. “I’m gonna give you a call tomorrow, alright?”
Hadrian blushes even deeper, running a hand through pitch-black hair that nearly touches his shoulders. “‘Kay, Coach. See ya later.” He tucks his wings at his back and disappears into the crowd, shouldering his way past monsters who point and whisper as he goes.
When Manorin glances down at me, I raise a brow meaningfully as I plant a hand on my hip, my competitive spirit kicking into overdrive. “We’ve got to get him if we can.”
“Good luck,” Betmal says with a snort. “Every haven in the system is trying to snatch up Hadrian Alkazar, and word has it he’s a country boy.”
When I roll my eyes, he grabs Amatheia’s hand. “Come, ma sirène, I promised to feel you up on the dance floor.”
Ama waves goodbye as she allows Betmal to guide her to an empty spot.
When I look up at Manorin, he’s staring at me with an intense look in those beautiful dark eyes.
“Ready to get outta here, Sunshine?”
I take his hand. “Lead the way, Nor.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MANORIN
Catherine clings to my neck as I gallop over moonlit fields toward our destination. She’s quiet, her thighs gripping me tightly as she rocks along with the rhythm of my easy lope. It's a solid half-hour ride, but it’s fun.
More than fun. I want her to ride me everywhere, because there’s nothing better than running across the rolling hills—my hills—with this woman on my back.
When dark forest comes into view, I slow down and slip her carefully off me. Her hair’s wind-whipped and wild, her cheeks ruddy as she beams up at me.
“That was exhilarating!” She plays at the bird’s nest of her waves. “There’s truly nothing like being on your back.”
I sweep her into my arms as I carry her toward the dark of the forest. “What about my front, Sunshine?”
She rolls her eyes and lets out a groan. “Gods, I walked you right into that one. That was terrible, Manorin. Are you a young bull again?”
I chuckle as I stalk between the trees, moonlight reduced to faded shards as the forest envelops us.
She smiles up from my arms. “We headed to the ward? That was very hot.”
I shake my head. “Nope. This is my land, land I bought when we were together before. It’s the land I thought I’d eventually build a house on and bring you home to.”
She goes utterly silent, her playful smile falling. “What?”
I jerk my head toward a spot in front of us. “I started building, and then we parted ways, and I never finished it. I knew my brother would get our family plot and that was fine. I wanted something new for us. But when I need to think about anything important, I come back here. The only thing I did finish was statues to the minotaur gods. Want to see?”
She slips out of my arms as I halt in a clearing, the four statues standing in a circle facing each other.
