My new normal made a candlelit dinner suspicious. Removing my jacket, I stood stiffly as Cyrus pulled out my chair in the fancy restaurant, smiling at him uncertainly as he waited for me to sit. We were in Savannah, Georgia, at a restaurant I’d been to before. One of my favorites, actually.

I refused to consider how he’d known. The memory of coming here with Daederich was buried deep, with everything else I’d enjoyed during my too brief freedom. Thinking of those times only made my capture more difficult. Made all the things I’d lost harder to bear.

Including the man I loved, who’d sat across from me, just like Cyrus was doing now.

My throat tightened. I picked up the menu, focusing on my options. The small portions reduced the risk of making myself sick. Even though I didn’t need to eat anymore, I still enjoyed food from time to time. Spices hot enough to burn my mouth, meat cooked extra rare, desserts so rich and sweet more than a few small spoonfuls could overwhelm your taste buds. Having to limit myself sucked, but I already knew exactly what I wanted.

Mouth watering, I glanced over at Cyrus. Would he even let me order for myself?

He lay his folded menu on the table and looked at me expectantly. “I rarely indulge. What would you recommend?”

Who is this guy? A cordial Cyrus was like a lion at the zoo, looking all cuddly until you got close enough for him to rip your arm off. There were enough people around to keep my limbs attached to my body, even Cyrus couldn’t compel them all to look away if he—

“For god’s sakes, Lydia, I’m not going to hurt you.” Cyrus smirked when I arched a brow at him. “Well, not here anyway. Can’t we enjoy one meal together?”

Unlikely, but I shrugged. “The ‘Donkatsu of Death’ is amazing. They’ll bring you milk in case it’s too spicy for you. I never need it.”

Cyrus let out an incredulous laugh. “Milk? I haven’t had milk since I was an infant. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Twenty minutes later, I smirked around my fork as Cyrus’s eyes watered. He cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Then he reached for his water.

“That’s a bad idea.” I took another bite, relishing in the intense burn as he glared at me. The pork cutlet, covered in a blood-colored chili sauce, both savory and tender, tempted me to keep eating every last bite, but I had to save room for dessert.

That most people gave up after a mouthful gave me the perfect excuse to push my plate aside, but I couldn’t help taking one more nice sized chunk just to watch Cyrus squirm.

He shook his head and took a gulp of water. Then choked on it.

“Told you.” I sat back, folding my arms over my chest, snickering as he grabbed the milk. He gulped down half the glass and my smile widened. “You might wanna slow down before you make yourself sick.”

His eyes narrowed, but he put the glass down. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.”

“Very much.”

“Bitch.”

“Mmhmm.” I nodded to the waitress who came over to collect our plates. She had a smug look on her face, likely used to patrons thinking they could take on the challenge of eating the fiery dish and get their food free.

I’d done it once, irritated when one waitress told me, in a condescending tone, that I should ‘let my man choose something else’. Daederich hadn’t even lectured me when I’d spent most of the night puking up my guts. By then I’d known how much my body could absorb, so I rarely overdid it, but my pride overruled common sense.

Thinking of Daederich rubbing my back while I shivered, blood-tinted sweat slicking my flesh as my body rejected the food it didn’t need, brought a sharp pain to my chest. I forced a smile when the waitress returned, and ordered the brownie fudge, not commenting when Cyrus suggested we share.

I was ready for this fucked up little date night to end.

“I hadn’t considered the memories would make this so unpleasant for you. I apologize.” Cyrus rubbed his jaw, studying me. “Perhaps I can make it up to you?”

“You let me out of my cage. That’s something at least.” I took a small sip of water, knowing it would intensify the burn, needing it to last a little longer. “Why are you doing this anyway?”

“I spoil my favorite pets from time to time.” He lifted his shoulders, then rested his elbows on the table, folding his hands together. “You lost your past after I took you. How would you feel if I gave some of it back?”

I picked up my spoon as the waitress set the brownie fudge in front of me, admiring the beautiful plating. Vines and tiny leaves had been painted on the plate in dark chocolate. Fine, the visuals didn’t change the taste, but since I couldn’t eat much, every single detail added to the experience.

And gave me an excuse to ignore Cyrus’s question. Until I could absorb what he’d offered, at least. Food was easier. Food didn’t terrify me.

Filling the emptiness where my memories should be? Did I even want that anymore? The little I’d learned about my former self told me I wouldn’t have liked that young woman very much. She’d been a daughter my father could be proud of.

Which meant she’d probably been a heartless bitch.

Cyrus reached for the brownie. I smacked his hand with the spoon.

His brow shot up.

“Don’t offer me chocolate, then mess with it. You can torture me later. I’ll break your fingers now.” I gently spooned a small piece of brownie, careful not to ruin the design, watching him as I brought the spoon to my lips. “As for my past… I don’t want to know.”

“Really?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “You don’t believe knowledge is power?”

“The right knowledge? Absolutely. But what could you possibly tell me about my past that would help me now?”

Lips curving slightly, Cyrus lifted his shoulders. “Only why Rosali hates you so much. But you’re right. What good would it do you to know that?”

I sucked my teeth, turning my attention back to the brownie. He was right, but I’d rather be boiled alive than admit that to him.

He chuckled, reaching out to wrap his hand around my wrist, his tone low. “If it wouldn’t ruin this body I enjoy so much, I might consider showing you exactly how that feels.”

Fisting my hand on the table, I glared at him. “I’m happy you’ve stopped pretending not to be a sick fuck.”

“When have I ever pretended to be other than what I am?”

“You’re pretending to be nice.”

“Can’t I be both?”

I blinked at him. Was this his idea of a joke?

“Yes. Now laugh.” He let out a heavy sigh when I chewed on my bottom lip. “You really must lighten up. Now would you like to know or not?”

This back and forth was getting us nowhere. I inhaled slowly. Nodded.

Cyrus smiled, relaxing his hold on my wrist, though he didn’t release me completely. He lightly traced his fingers along my pulse, a distant look in his eyes. “Whatever else your father may be, he is a very good teacher. Daederich getting as far as he did was impressive, but really, not all that surprising. He’s a hardened soldier with decades of experience. You were little more than a child.”

I set my spoon on the table, forgetting my dessert.

“Most of your kills happened under your father’s watch. Rogues no one would ever miss. Your first solo hunt, he expected you to go after more of the same. Instead, you began investigating the deaths of several children, in different cities, that no one else had connected. Rosali can be rather messy.”

“I went after her? Alone?”

“Yes. You were a cocky little thing.” Cyrus’s lips slanted. “You haven’t changed much.”

Rolling my eyes, I motioned for him to go on.

“Her guards didn’t watch her so closely then. She has highly skilled assassins to protect her during the day while she sleeps, assuming hunters will come for her when she’s most vulnerable. You’d seen several taken down by them and decided you’d stand a better chance against her, one on one.” He shook his head and laughed. “She would have killed you instantly if she hadn’t been so shocked to see you stepping into her bedroom, gun drawn, smiling at her as though you’d already won. It helped that she’d never been shot before.”

Well damn, I’d managed to shoot the bitch. Go me!

Cyrus let out an abrupt laugh. “Yes, well you were quite impressed with yourself. So impressed you pulled out your sword rather than shoot her again and make sure she was down for more than a moment. You then proceeded to tell her how she deserved a slow death, but it would be enough to simply end her before she harmed another child.”

“Fuck.” I shook my head, pretty sure I knew how this story would end. “Why didn’t I just cut the bitch’s head off?”

“You tried. But this was your first time attempting to take the head off an immortal who was still mobile. The blade barely touched her before she was across the room, calling for her guards.” He shook his head. “You managed to shoot her again and escape before they arrived.”

“Why would she… She could have come after me herself. Snapped my neck before I made it to the door.”

“Absolutely. But you frightened her. Rosali doesn’t react well when she’s overwhelmed. She relies on manipulation and poisons rather than strength, preferring to feed on children because they’re easy prey.” His tone softened, his smile almost tender. “The way she lures them in is a sight to behold. All they see is a beautiful young woman with a sweet smile. I’ve seen young mothers hand their babies to her, completely enthralled, never suspecting a thing until—”

“Jesus…” My stomach turned and I pushed away from the table. “No wonder I wanted her dead.”

He inclined his head. “Well, yes. Unfortunately, you failed to kill her, but I admired the effort. I decided I had to have you.”

“Lucky me.”

Pulling out a stack of bills, Cyrus dropped them on the table, then stood, offering me his hand. “If it’s any consolation, you put up a hell of a fight. When it became clear you couldn’t escape, you tried to bash your own skull in against the cement wall of your first cell. I killed the first three doctors who gave you up for dead. The forth was much more motivated.”

My mouth went dry. I brought a shaky hand to my head. “I did this to myself?”

Cyrus gently cupped my cheek as I sat there, stunned. “Does that shock you? You don’t fear much, Lydia, but you panic when you feel trapped. Keeping you with Daederich distracted you with the hope of breaking free. I never truly believed you’d ever escape me though.”

“But I didn’t.” I pressed my eyes shut. “I won’t as long as we’re both still alive.”

“But you want to live and you can’t kill me.” Cyrus tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Maybe I can make you want to stay.”

I let out a rough laugh, cutting it short when Cyrus pulled away, but he simply held up my jacket, waiting patiently as I slipped it on.

Once we were outside, Cyrus started in the direction of Forsyth Park, strolling along, holding my arm like we were a regular couple, simply enjoying the scenery. Even in early spring, there was plenty to enjoy, but I couldn’t focus on the majestic oaks with their wispy veils of hanging moss. The scent of blood called to me every time a young couple passed us. Tempting, but I could resist. I rarely killed to feed, and my victims were never innocent.

The monster at my side didn’t share my discerning tastes. Even now he was watching two teens making out on a park bench, touching his tongue to a fang as his eyes took on a predatory gleam.

“Don’t.” I tightened my grip on his arm when he took a step toward them. “Please don’t. Not them.”

His brow rose. “Then who, Lydia?” His lips curved. “Actually, yes. I do like that idea. Pick someone for us to share. I’m curious who would be to your ‘tastes’.”

Shit. I’d walked right into that one. I turned my head, desperately searching all those fresh young faces for a hint of cruelty, a stray thought that might make them easier to condemn to death. I’d take a shady drug dealer at this point.

But there was nothing. The park might as well be filled with angels.

“I won’t pick someone for you to kill.” I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth, hugging myself as a chill slithered over my skin. Nothing I said mattered. One of them would die and he’d force me to take part. I wouldn’t trade a single one of their lives for Alrik’s.

Cyrus rubbed my shoulder. “Now now, no need for this to be unpleasant. What if I let them live? Who would you choose then?”

I blinked at him, not sure what game he was playing. “Have you ever fed without killing?”

“I have. From you, if you recall.” He turned me to face him. “They won’t even have to remember whatever we do to them. Consider their life my gift to you.”

There were so many things wrong with that statement, but no point in trying to explain that to him. I didn’t want him to change his mind, so I started down the path, rejecting one cute couple after another, finally settling on a handsome young man, standing alone near the fountain, smoking a cigarette and staring at the water. I couldn’t read his thoughts, but his expression was troubled, as though he’d had a horrible night and wasn’t sure what to do next.

His night wasn’t going to get any better, but maybe I could make him forget whatever had him looking so sad. If Cyrus kept his word the man would wake up tomorrow, tired, maybe a little confused, but still alive.

“Interesting choice.” Cyrus motioned me forward. “He’s all yours.”

I took a deep breath, approaching the young man quietly. Fuck, nothing at that fancy restaurant smelled as good as he did. Better than melted chocolate and coffee brewing first thing on a cold morning. Barbequed steak in the summer, slathered in a spicy sauce. All my favorite foods wrapped in the perfect package, beckoning with every beat of his heart. Resisting him was like saying no to a plate full of food while your stomach growled and your mouth watered. Only worse, because my hunger had the control of a dog kept tied up and starved, only holding back because it had been beaten into submission.

Jerking on the leash of my savage side, I forced myself to see him as a living, breathing person. Not food. He was tall, shoulders broad, with a nicely angular jaw and smooth, tanned flesh. Such soft skin, with a nice rosy tint, his blood nice and hot under the heavy layers he didn’t need. Person, not food. His hair, light brown and slightly overgrown, reached the collar of his grey wool jacket, spilling over his dark brown eyes.

He looked up as I stepped to his side, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Do you have an extra smoke?” I gave him my sweetest smile, tamping down the automatic awkwardness of approaching a stranger. I’d never done this before. The handful of times I’d fed from a killer, or a rapist, Daederich had grabbed them, knocking them out cold before holding their limp body out to me like a very big bag of chips to snack on.

No conversation. No doubt. They were guilty and deserved to die.

“Sure.” The young man pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shaking one loose and handing it to me. He flicked a lighter as I held it to my lips.

“Thank you.” I pulled in a bit of smoke, not fond of the taste, but feeling nothing. Coughing would have been even more embarrassing than trying to find something to say. “Are you from around here?”

“Just up the street.” He braced his foot on the edge of the fountain and shook his head. “I used to love coming here, but I haven’t in so long. Just didn’t have the time, you know?”

I nodded as though I understood, but I really didn’t. If I had a normal life, I wasn’t sure I could stay away from a place like this. Being able to walk through a beautiful park every day, even just to take in the peace, the scent of the humid air, see the branches hanging over the path gently swaying in the breeze, was everything I’d never have. So simple. So easy for most to take for granted.

He shook his head and sighed. “You’re a tourist, aren’t you?”

“It’s that obvious?” I grinned and brought the cigarette to my lips, sure I’d been holding it too long without doing so.

“You’ve got that look in your eyes. Like everything is so shiny and new.” He shrugged, his lips curving slightly. “I haven’t felt that way about anything in a long time.”

The sadness in his tone made pushing aside the urge to put him on the menu much easier. I could almost forget Cyrus standing there, waiting for me to do just that.

Nodding again, I followed his gaze to the fountain, watching the circular flow spill into the bubbling pool below. “I’ve been there. But I lost the chance to enjoy moments like this, so I guess I don’t take anything for granted. Tomorrow I might not have the chance to just…be free to see anything beyond those same four walls.”

He pressed his lips together, turning to face me. “There’s nothing worse than feeling trapped. I get that.”

Why did it seem like he knew exactly what I meant? Not the vague ‘four walls’ people talked about when they hated their job, or their home, but the walls of a prison you couldn’t escape.

Maybe I just needed to believe this conversation meant something. That I hadn’t slipped up and exposed my reality to someone who couldn’t possibly understand. Sure, I had Elah, but he wasn’t here now. He was still in that cage, while I’d been given a brief respite.

A gift from Cyrus. One that would make going back even harder.

But only if I let it. I couldn’t. I had to remember why I’d chosen this man. Had to pray Cyrus would keep his promise to let him live when we were done with him.

I let out a tight laugh and took another puff from the cigarette. “I’m sorry, you look like you’ve been having a rough night already, and I’m not helping.”

“You are, actually.” He ducked his head, a boyish smile on his lips. “I was feeling pretty alone, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to.” He glanced over at Cyrus. “But you should probably get back to your boyfriend. I’m surprised he’s not annoyed that you’re ignoring him.”

Cyrus letting me ignore him for so long was pretty awesome, but I eyed him cautiously, not sure how patient he’d be if I didn’t make a move soon. He caught my gaze, lips curving slightly, then turned his attention to the teens who’d left their make-out session on the bench to take selfies in front of a tree.

Biting the tip of my tongue, I scrambled for a way to move things along with my chosen target. “He…we…we’re trying something different tonight.”

The man’s brow lifted. “Oh?”

“Yeah…” My cheeks heated. I brought the cigarette to my lips, pulling the smoke in hard. “It’s a stupid game, but we’re trying to spice things up. I…I’ve never done this before, so I’m not sure where to start. But I noticed you, standing here alone.”

His lips slanted and he inclined his head. “You don’t smoke, do you.”

“Not usually, no.” I swallowed hard. “But it seemed the easiest place to start.”

“True.” He shook his head and chuckled. “My name’s Jase. And you are…?”

“Lydia.” I almost wished I’d come up with a fake name so I didn’t have to be me. Playing a part with him would make this so much easier, but he was being too sweet. Too understanding. He deserved the little bit of truth I could give him. “If this is weird… Okay, this is weird. And you should probably go. Or I should.” No. I couldn’t let him leave. I’d have to choose someone else. “But if you don’t, if you’re interested—”

“He’s interested.” Cyrus curved his hand around the back of my neck, and ice slithered down my spine as I fought not to pull away. “How could he not be?”

Jase gave Cyrus a hooded look, which surprised me. Not that I’d made any real attempt to seduce him, but I usually attracted men’s attention without any effort at all. This one hadn’t shown any interest at all.

Maybe I was the wrong kind of bait.

“You aren’t.” Cyrus whispered in my ear. He stepped away from me, reaching into Jase’s pocket and pulling out the pack of cigarettes. “Jase’s interests are similar to mine. I’ve simply made my intentions clear.”

“You have. But I enjoy a bit of conversation before I’m propositioned, so this worked out well.” Jase lit Cyrus’s cigarette, then pulled another out for himself. He offered the pack to me, but I shook my head. His focus returned to Cyrus. “This is for you, isn’t it.”

He wasn’t asking. Hopefully, Cyrus wouldn’t care what the man assumed. If Jase irritated the ruthless bastard, the night wouldn’t end well for him, no matter what promises had been made.

But Cyrus simply let out a low laugh, reaching out to brush his fingers along Jase’s jaw. “My sweet girl knows what I like. She chose to be more…involved tonight.”

“Lucky me.” Jase wet his bottom lip with his tongue, the sweet aroma of his blood scenting the air with an alluring pull as his pulse picked up. He leaned closer to Cyrus, almost as though he couldn’t help himself. “I haven’t done anything like this—not since…” He pressed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. My place is close. It’s nice. I have some Chateau Margaux I got to celebrate. It’s stupid expensive, but it was my fia—my ex-girlfriend’s favorite. No reason for it to go to waste.”

“None at all.” Cyrus motioned for Jase to lead the way. “You have good taste. This ex-girl of yours clearly didn’t.”

Jase’s lips quirked slightly and he began walking down the path, looking relaxed at Cyrus’s side, which had me grinding my teeth so hard my fangs would be useless soon. Fine, it wasn’t Jase’s fault, he didn’t know how dangerous Cyrus was, but didn’t he have any sense of self-preservation? Even as a mortal my instincts had told me Cyrus was a threat. I hadn’t been able to protect myself, but Jase was a free man.

For the moment anyway. Cyrus seemed to like him, which was never a good thing. How long before the image of Jase begging for his life became more appealing than whatever game Cyrus was playing with me?

Still, I couldn’t help some relief that Cyrus’s focus was on someone else. Guilt nagged at me, but I ignored it, letting my eyes drift shut as I walked, tipping my head back as a warm breeze spilled over me. My hair fluttered across my face and I bit my bottom lip, fighting the urge to break down and let loose the scream of frustration tearing at my throat. I opened my eyes, my pace slowing as I took in the night sky, painted with thin clouds, stars blinking in the blackness breaking between them. There’d be nothing but the walls of my cell soon. Or worse, the bright lights of a stage. The sky, the fresh air, the ability to move around freely, was temporary. If I could forget Alrik, and Elah, I could make a run for it now and never look back.

If not for them, I would take the opportunity to escape, but they held me to Cyrus more securely than any chains. Once, Daederich would have as well, but he could clearly take care of himself. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to survive.

He’d sacrifice me to save himself. I owed him the same respect, right?

The sweet breeze became oppressive as my throat locked and I forced myself to keep moving. I couldn’t let that sense of betrayal distract me, but fuck, it was hard. Hearing Daederich’s voice in my head had kept me sane through so much, but all his words had become lies, everything I felt for him nothing more than a desperate need for the only love I remembered to be real.

No matter how hard I tried to convince myself it hadn’t been, part of me still wanted to believe I’d meant something to him. That he hadn’t been with me because of… What, a sense of responsibility for what I’d gone through because of him? Did he regret what he’d done to me at all?

Would you rather he’d have let you die?

Yes. And no. I didn’t even fucking know anymore. The memories I’d made with him, exploring the world, experiencing so many things all over again for the first time, from making love in a soft bed to swimming in the ocean and learning to drive, all things I must have taken for granted once. He’d given me those things, sharing my excitement, encouraging me to set aside what I’d lost and let it all be new and wonderful.

What did I have to live for without him? I didn’t even know. Elah would help me end it all rather than for me to endure another moment with Cyrus, but Alrik deserved a chance at a future. Even though he’d been cursed to live out this existence just like the rest of us, if he was protected, he’d get to grow up, fall in love, become strong enough to fight for himself and others. He was with good people, they’d teach him how to use that strength to take down men like Cyrus.

Maybe he’d be the one to take down the bastard if I couldn’t.

If I was lucky, I’d still be alive to see him do it.

Pleasant thoughts, which I kept carefully guarded, but a glance from Cyrus as we headed up the winding metal steps to Jase’s apartment told me he’d caught some of them. He expression didn’t change, which scared me a little.

Jase might pay for me letting my mind wander. I’d enjoyed the illusion of freedom a little too much. I wasn’t free. Not even a little.

“Don’t mind the mess.” Jase unlocked the door, stepping aside to let me and Cyrus pass. He stood uncertainly in the entrance as we took in the huge loft, dropping his keys on a table by the door. “I haven’t had company in awhile.”

I wasn’t sure what ‘mess’ he was talking about. Sure, there were a couple of mugs on the counter in the kitchen, but the stainless-steel appliances, and the granite countertops, were spotless. The whole place had a crisp, artistically modern feel, contemporary pieces effortlessly mixed with classical ones. The tall chairs around the black steel table looked Victorian. The stairs leading up to the open second floor would have fit perfectly in a gothic era mansion. The massive black and white portraits on the walls in the wide space leading into the sparse living room could have lined the halls of a palace with only a few small changes to match the period.

Cyrus observed it all with a bored expression, but by his tone, he was clearly impressed. He made his way into the loft, trailing his fingers along a Viking sword set on a long, thin marble table against the wall. “You have an impressive collection. This isn’t a replica.”

“No. It’s a family heirloom.” Jase took my coat, hung it with his own on the wooden knob hooks by the door, then headed to the kitchen. “I have a sabre from the Napoleon era in the living room if you want to check it out. All the men in my family collected swords, which came to me when they died.”

As Cyrus continued exploring, I joined Jase in the kitchen, thanking him when he poured a glass of wine and handed it to me. This whole setup was unnerving. Not the loft, but…being here. Jase chatting with Cyrus about décor, serving wine, acting like this was normal.

He could die.

I could be forced to kill him.

Why the hell isn’t he afraid?

No matter how many times I asked myself that question, I’d never get the answer I wanted. He wasn’t afraid because he didn’t know we were a threat. He didn’t live the life I did—the life I always had, from before I could even remember. He was just a man going along with the opportunity to get lucky.

He was playing his part. So was Cyrus.

I was the only one struggling.

“Have some wine, Lydia.” Jase’s eyes met mine as he took a sip from his own glass. “Try not to be nervous. Nothing happens tonight that you don’t want.”

Swallowing back a laugh almost made me choke on my wine. If Jase noticed, he didn’t comment. He smiled a little before heading to the living room with a glass for Cyrus. I finished my own wine, hardly tasting what I was sure was a delicious vintage. It would take something a lot stronger than wine to get me through tonight. Getting drunk as an immortal wasn’t easy, but I’d managed it a time or two.

Usually after feeding on someone who was plastered. Maybe I should encourage Jase to indulge in a few more glasses. It might make this easier on both of us.

“Come, Lydia.” Cyrus settled on the black leather sofa, leaning back, amusement slanting his lips. “You don’t expect us to begin without you?”

Gritting my teeth, I started around the kitchen island, slowing my pace as my head spun. I inhaled roughly, staring at the glass of wine. The tipsy feeling was exactly what I wanted, but there was no way I’d managed after a glass and a half.

Struggling to walk normally, I eyed Cyrus, noting his relaxed demeanor, the slow, almost sleepy way he moved. Had Jase drugged us? Was he fucking stupid? If Cyrus found out—

“I know, my sweet.” Cyrus released a low laugh, his eyes half shut. “A harmless little ‘spice’ to intensify the sensations and help you relax. Rather nice of our host, don’t you think?”

‘Nice’ was one way to put it. I couldn’t help wonder who else Jase had invited up here for a drink which he’d spiked with something. And if both Cyrus and I could feel it, the drugs must be strong. Strong enough to kill a regular man or woman.

Perhaps I’d selected the right victim after all.

I ran my tongue over my teeth, meeting Jase’s level gaze as he reclined on the sofa next to Cyrus. Jase didn’t seem nervous about having been caught. Instead, he looked curious. Waiting to see what I’d do next.

“Very nice.” I lowered to my knees between Jase’s spread thighs. “I’m happy we found him. I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy this, but now I know I will.”

Cyrus’s smile widened. “Are you hungry, love?”

I tugged Jase’s belt open, smirking at his rough inhale. “Fucking starving.”