Page 28 of Prodigy & Tybalt
“Tybalt,” I murmured, my eyes stabbing.
“My mate took one sniff of me and knew I was defective.”
“Tyb, no—”
“Nah, it’s fine. I’ve made peace with it.”
I glared up at him. “You arenotdefective.”
His throat bobbed. “Prodigy says the same shit.”
“Because it’s true.”
His jaw clenched, a muscle in his cheek fluttering. It was completely natural to lean forward and kiss that tortured cheek. “She said she’d never want a used up mess like me. That no one would.”
“You arenota used up mess,” I breathed, my voice emerging as quiet as the rain, tears sliding hot down my cheeks. “And I want you.”
His throat bobbed, his gaze fixed on the garden. “Shit, warrior, you’re gonna make me cry.”
“Good. Misery loves company.”
His snort made me smile, and then we were both smiling, something tender passing between us. It made absolutely no sense that Sweetie was my mate, and Tybalt wasn’t. He was an echo of my soul, my strength, my pain, and he was a snarky fucker as a nice little bonus. There was nothing used up or messy about him that wasn’t used up and messy about me. Nothing I didn’t like about him.
“You’re here now,” I said, softening when his gaze returned to me, fine rain clinging to his lashes, making him a beautiful conundrum of harsh and gentle, brutal and tender-hearted. “You found your family, found Prodigy.”
“Yeah. Bunch of bastards, the lot of them, but they’re decent people.”
There was a thickness to his voice, a tight squeeze of emotion that I wanted to soothe. So I asked, “Is his name reallyBarclay?”
“Oh, yeah. Big time.”
“Like the bank?” I pressed, heavy on the judgement.
He snorted. “His parents were huge fans of finance.”
“Aren’t we all?” I drawled. “I love finance. Money is my favourite thing.”
His laugh was richer, deeper this time. It rippled through his chest into mine, relief easing a knot from my heart. “You and me both, warrior. Imagine how many books you could buy with a whole bank’s worth.”
I widened my eyes. “Imagine how many torture devices you could buy.”
He squeezed my waist. “Stop flirting with me. Torture devices turn me on.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” I replied flippantly. “You do have my buyer locked up somewhere to cut him into pieces after all.”
“Mmm.” He pulled me closer, fitting out bodies together, the hard length of an erection gracing my lower belly. “And you justlovethat, don’t you, warrior?”
I scoffed. “No.”
“You keep mentioning it.”
“Because I’m disturbed by it.”
“Because torture turns you on too, doesn’t it, Miraya?” he purred and, oh, that voice was deadly. A slow, silken caress that I felt against my skin, against my core.
“Only if they deserve it,” I answered, a little breathy. Rain continued to fall, but I was burning hot, my skin on fire, my temperature spiking so high that I whimpered.
I didn’t feel Tybalt’s hand move, but suddenly his palm was on my neck, fingers splayed over my pulse. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he murmured.
