Page 159 of The Call of Crimson
Once he’s gone, Elijah asks, “What did he whisper to you?”
“Uh—I’d rather?—”
“None of your concern, Elijah,” Cillian yells from down the hall.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, wrapping my arms around him and forcing a smile to hide my inner turmoil.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
BREYLA
Despite my protests at sleeping in Ayden’s room and the unease I feel lying in bed next to anyone but Aurelius or Elijah, sleep finds me quickly. The emotional and physical exertion of the evening had been enough to let me drift off the instant my head hit the pillow.
But it doesn’t last.
Barely two hours later, I jolt awake, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. My heart races, a surge of adrenaline crackling through my veins as my eyes dart around the dark room. There’s no obvious threat, but dread churns in my gut like something is terribly wrong.
Slipping from bed, I find Ayden’s sword resting on the chair across the room. Weapon in hand, I creep through the room on silent feet in search of what may have disturbed me.
“Get back in bed, love,” Ayden groans, his voice rough with sleep.
“Something’s wrong,” I whisper.
I check the bathing chamber and the sitting room, finding nothing unusual. Nothing’s out of place. The lock on his door is secure.
His sleep-tousled hair sticks up in every direction, and red rims his eyes. “The only thing wrong is that we’ve only had an hour of sleep and you’re trying to fight ghosts.”
I huff, dropping the sword back into the chair before settling on the edge of the bed.
An electric current courses through me, my muscles begging to be used, and my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. My whole body hums like it just walked off a battlefield.
I cross my arms in front of my chest. “I can’t sleep anymore.”
“Why not?” Ayden yawns.
“My body feels…” I pause, trying to find the words. “It feels like I’ve just come off a fight.”
“You’re experiencing battle high at six in the morning?”
“Apparently so.”
Ayden groans as he lifts himself upright, swinging his legs off the bed. The only thing he’d worn to sleep was a pair of loose gray pants, and getting him to wear even that had been a fight. Apparently, he usually sleeps naked.
I swear I hear him whimper as he drags fleece-lined leathers up his legs. Once he’s fully dressed, he turns to me, running a hand over his face in an attempt to wipe the sleep from his face. “Well, come on then. Get dressed and we’ll go spar.”
“You’re going to spar with me half asleep?”
“It’s either that or fuck, and even if you’d let me between those creamy thighs, I don’t fancy the idea of taking you when my brother’s seed is still leaking from your pretty little cunt.”
My mouth gapes open, trying to process the words coming out of his mouth.
“Too vulgar for you, Princess?” He yawns, stretching his arms above his head. “Sorry, I get crude when I’ve only had an hour of sleep.”
I refuse to let this male rattle me, so before I can think better of it, I snap back, “Oh my cunt isn’t the only place his seed was left.”
That wakes him up. His eyes snap wide, the last of the sleep vanishing.
“My, my.” A smirk curls his lips. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”
