Page 62 of Claim the Twilight
I glance over my shoulder and tense at the sight of the regal male walking toward me. Ramiel, prince of Superbia, saunters toward us as if he owns the street.
“What the fuck is he doing here?”
“I wager he’s hoping to find his way into your pants.”
My head whips up to him, and a laugh bursts from my lips, but his expression is flat, no hint of humor. “You’re serious.”
He sighs. “And after all this time, you’re still oblivious to your appeal.”
“Oh, I know I’m sexy as fuck, Sin, but if Ramiel thinks he has a chance with me, then he’s delusional.”
A slight smile lifts Sin’s lips. “Good to hear.”
Did he seriously think that I’d go for Ramiel? I glance down the road at the fallen. He’s almost at the barrier now. Sure, he’s handsome with his caramel hair and fiery eyes. But he doesn’t give me a pussy zing like my husbands do, and he doesn’t hold a place in my heart like Sin does either.
Ramiel is almost at the barrier when I catch movement behind me. Two powerfully built males, one with a dark buzzcut, the other with silver hair, stride toward us.
“What?” Sin turns, following my gaze. “Do you know those men?”
“They’re not men, Sin. They’re Faoladh.” Shifters from another world, Faoladh wear the human form to fit in, but their true form is something more awe-inspiring and terrifying. “Bryce and Emmit are Quinn’s mates. They must have received the same message from Lorenzo. But the fact that Quinn isn’t with them is worrying because we have a pact, and if she could be here, then she would.”
Ramiel reaches us first; he opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand to silence him. “Go back to Morningstar.”
He frowns. “I want to help.”
“If I needed your help, I would have asked, and the fact that you’re here without invitation is frankly insulting.”
His gaze narrows. “Fine. If you’re certain that whatever is happening beyond those wards couldn’t do with an extra pair of wings, then I’ll leave.”
I’m not sure of any such thing, but I am certain that the last thing I need is to be playing referee between Sin and Ramiel. If I have to pick one of the two, then it will be Sin every time. The fallen is one of the most powerful of his kind in existence.
I lift my chin and fix Ramiel with a glare that I hope conveys my irritation. “If I need reinforcements, then I’ll send word.”
Ramiel’s jaw tenses, and his gaze flicks to Sin. “Keep her safe.”
Sin smiles thinly. “Always.”
With a final look my way, he turns and walks away, past the Faoladh, who don’t bother gracing him with a glance, their focus remaining on me.
I walk over to meet them, and their austere, forbidding expressions break into smiles.
Bryce graces me with a hug. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too.” I shoot Emmit a grin, and his eyes warm a little. He’s a male of few words, clinging to what the Faoladh call the True Way and using mainly True Word to communicate, unless he’s speaking to Quinn. “How’s Quinn?”
“Pregnant,” Bryce says. “She sent a letter to Morningstar.”
My heart lifts. “I didn’t get it.”
He frowns. “Hmmm, well she’d like to see you, once this is over.”
“Definitely.”
“Nyx…” There’s warning in Sin’s tone, one which conveys obligation and responsibility.
I set my jaw. “Once we’ve helped Orina, then we are definitely visiting Quinn.”
Emmit pulls a mobile from his pocket and hands it to me. “One,” he says.
