Page 67 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

As soon as he’d confirmed Calix had taken his leave, Ronan grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered the bartender to open a fresh bottle of the house liquor—no glass required.

He was in the mood to get pissed, so he didn’t bother with the fancy stuff. He wanted alcohol. A lot of it. So long as it wasn’t poisoned and got him pickled enough he could finally stop picturing the look of unmitigatedneedon Shadow’s face when he’d asked if he could pet her, he didn’t care what the fuck it tasted like. Which was good because it was little better than mint-flavored piss. And was that... glitter floating around in it? What the fuck was wrong with these people?

“Are you sulking, Ronan?” Sebastian asked with a laugh as he claimed the stool beside him.

“I don’t sulk.”

“Non? What do you call this, then?”

“I’m drinking.”

“I can smell that. But I’m pretty sure this pouty lower lip of yours”—he reached out and flicked Ronan’s lip—“is what we refer to as sulking.”

Ronan grunted.

“Okay, fine. We will call it something more manly. Brooding, perhaps?”

Ronan took another pull of the foul liquid, knowing he was already well on his way to being absolutely tossed. The stuff was potent; he’d give it that. It was about all it had going for it.

“So why are webrooding, Ronan?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Bast to fuck off, but instead he found himself admitting, “I almost had her.”

“Had her? We’re talking about the lovely Shadow, I presume.”

He didn’t bother confirming. There was only one woman he was interested in. “I just know if I can kiss her, she’ll remember.”

Bast clutched his heart.“Que c’est romantique!”

“What are you muttering about now?”

“True love’s kiss. How romantic!”

He rolled his eyes at the over-the-top dramatics, though he found it endlessly amusing that Bast was a closeted hopeless romantic. One would never suspect with how he was determined to plough his way across the continent.

As far as true love’s kiss was concerned, Ronan hadn’t thought of it in quite those terms. Given the way Shadow responded to him, it was obvious to him that her body remembered him, even if her mind didn’t. One was the key to the other. It’s why he was certain that if he could kiss her, everything was bound to come pouring back.

“Maybe you did it wrong.”

Ronan’s back stiffened, his lip curling up in a sneer. “Impossible.” That wasn’t ego talking; there was simply no mistaking the look in her eyes when he’d offered to make her purr.

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show what you did. Maybe you said something to turn her off. Try it out on me, and I’ll tell you.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped as he grabbed the bottle and drank deep. “I’m not going to seduce you, Bast. No matter how much you beg. What happened to Loren? He seemed willing enough.”

Bast ignored his attempt to change the subject. In a surprising display of strength, he took hold of Ronan’s stool and turned it until they were face-to-face. “This is important. Let me help you win your lady love. You won’t find a better judge than me.”

“Bast, you’re the least discerning person I know. You’d tumble in the sheets with anyone. How are you any sort of judge?”

“Fine,” he huffed. “We’ll get you a woman.” Catching the eye of a pretty blonde with ample curves and a wild cascade of curls, he shouted, “A second of your time,ma petite?”

Blushing, she pointed to herself. “Me?”

Bast nodded encouragingly. “But of course.”

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