Page 125 of House of Malice
Alatar tilted his head to the side. “There is enough space under my very secure blanket to fit those who are mine.”
Galliermo chuckled.
Alatar jerked his chin at him. “Leveau is mine. And you are his, which basically means you are technically mine and qualify for that space under the blanket.”
Demitria blinked. “Hard to fight logic like that, I suppose.”
Galliermo and Alatar laughed.
“Don’t worry, my love. Nobody is going to catch us,” Galliermo said and then kissed her lips to show Alatar and everyone else at the library that Demitria was truly his and his alone.
“Alright, I’ll leave you two,” she said and rose to her feet. “I have an acting class with Raquel.”
“I’ll see you back home later,” Galliermo said, and Demitria walked away.
He followed her with his gaze, taking in those long legs and juicy hips he absolutely fucking loved.
“Talk with fucking Octavia,” Alatar said. “I’m really bored.”
Galliermo dragged his gaze away from his love to his best friend and frowned. “What is that gonna do?”
Alatar rolled his eyes. “She likes you much more than she likes me. She thinks I’m a fucking sociopathic, rich, spoiled brat who needs to find something better to do with his time than chase every skirt that comes my way.”
Galliermo raised an eyebrow. Silence stretched between them.
“Fuck you, Leveau.” Alatar scoffed.
Galliermo lifted his palms up in defense. “I’m not saying anything.”
“But you’re thinking it,” Alatar growled. “I can see the cogs turning in that head of yours.”
Galliermo barked a laugh. “Well, it’s not that she’s wrong…”
“I would expect more support from my best friend.”
Still laughing, Galliermo shrugged.
Something behind Galliermo caught Alatar’s attention. He narrowed his eyes and jerked his chin. “Look at that.”
Galliermo glanced over his shoulder to see none other than Gondalez sitting on the leather chair in the far corner of the library, his beautiful witch on his lap.
They both looked at each other with so much longing and love. Galliermo could feel it, he knew it so well.
One of Gondalez’s hands rested on his girlfriend’s flat stomach, while he whispered something into her ear. She laughed at whatever he said and placed her palm over his.
“What does that look like to you?” Alatar asked.
Galliermo looked at him, surprised. “They are expecting a child?”
A dark smirk appeared at the corner of Alatar’s mouth. “No better time for a little threat, don’t you think?”
The flames of candles scattered all over the altar of the Gods flickered. The uneven shadows cast on the walls were waltzing and talking amongst each other as if they had a life of their own.
Galliermo followed their movements, the bench carved out of ivory bone hard beneath him.
Octavia, Rufus, and Reverie were arguing next to the altar. Lyra sat a bit farther down from Galliermo on the bench. Her legs were crossed and tucked beneath her, her palms resting on her knees. She wore a mask of blissful calmness while she meditated.
Galliermo missed Demitria’s presence, the softness of her palm in his hand, and the warmth of her body pressed tightly against him.
