Chapter Thirty-One
Thrasher walked alongside Brant on his way to the training room. They had been back in Aukrabah for over a week, and Thrasher not only felt good as new, he felt stronger than ever before. Abbie had drawn blood from him to test in the lab. If what she figured to be true, giving a human a Bracadyte’s blood would not only prolong their lives, but also aid in their ability to heal. “It looks like your sister has become pretty close with Syrina.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Brant responded in a casual voice. A little too casual.
Slicing his gaze toward Henagar’s profile, Thrasher tried again. “I heard that she’s considering staying in Aukrabah when the Arkadian’s return home.”
The slightest change in body language told Thrasher all he needed to know. Brant was curious about Syrina. To what level his curiosity ran Thrasher wasn’t sure. He decided to let it go.
“What about you? How’s married life?”
A vision of Kaspyn’s beautiful face floated through his mind. “Better than I ever thought it would be.”
Brant shot him a grin. “I got ten bucks that says she can kick your ass.”
“That’s a wager I would never take,” Thrasher laughed. “She probably could.”
Gryke, Hauke, Rykaur, and Braum were in the training room throwing each other around like footballs.
Thrasher peeled off his shirt and Ray-Bans, laid them on a bench along the wall, and sauntered to the center of the room. “Which one of you ladies wanna give it a go?”
Hauke broke away from Braum, a humorous light burning in his eyes. “Perhaps you need to warm up first now that you are chicken bitten.”
Thrasher couldn’t contain his laugh. “I believe the phrase you’re looking for is hen pecked. And you should know. I hear your mate flat irons your hair in the lab.”
Hauke’s lips twitched. “At least I have hair.”
“I have hair, “Thrasher shot back. “I just prefer it to be short, a little less girly, you understand.”
Braum snatched up a towel, and began drying his face. “What is a flat iron?”
“I do not know.” Hauke circled around, attempting to get behind Thrasher. “Perhaps when I am finished tanning Thrasher’s skin, I will find out.”
“Hide,” Thrasher corrected, easing his body around to keep an eye on Hauke. “Tan his hide. You guys will never get the slang down. I’d stop trying if I were you.”
Hauke spun around, dropped low and kicked Thrasher’s feet out from under him.
At Thrasher’s surprised look, Hauke chuckled. “I have been practicing.”
More than a little impressed by Hauke’s speed, Thrasher sprang to his feet, rolled his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. “That’s great, but I’m about to kick your ass.”
Laughter rang out from the room’s occupants as Thrasher lunged at Hauke. Though he was the son of their king, Hauke was their equal in the training room; in any room, really. He’d become a brother to Thrasher, they all had. And Thrasher would give his life for any of them, just as they would give their lives for him. They’d proven that time and time again.
* * * *
Thrasher left the bathhouse, his ribs bruised and sore. Hauke had given him one hell of a workout. Not to mention Rykaur and Braum.
Brant wasn’t in much better shape. He wrapped a towel around his waist and followed Thrasher back into the hall. “I’m almost finished with the ten apartments closest to the lab. They will all have electricity. Would you like one?”
“Why not give them to some of the Bracadytes?”
Brant shrugged. “Because they’ve lived their entire lives without electricity. I doubt they miss what they don’t know.”
“But some of their mates know.”
“Yes,” Brant agreed. “Which is why Hauke, Vaulcron, Braum, Rykaur, Tony, and Gryke were offered the first five.”
Thrasher hesitated. Although it would benefit Tony and him both to have electricity, where they could keep up with what was going on topside, he felt guilty about taking one.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Brant began, “I’ll mention it to Klause and get his opinion on it.”
Nodding, Thrasher clapped Brant on the shoulder. “I appreciate that, man.”
“No problem.” Brant turned and entered his apartment.
Thrasher trailed off down the hall, feeling Kaspyn’s presence long before he stepped into his foyer.
“Close the curtain,” she ordered, her naked form splayed out in his king size bed.
And just like that, Thrasher became erect.
He yanked the curtain into place, dropped the towel wrapped around his waist, and sauntered toward the bed.
“I would like to have more of the tongue sex,” Kaspyn demanded in a sultry voice.
God, he loved her straightforwardness. He placed a knee on the foot of the bed and crawled up to settle between her shapely thighs. She smelled so good; like woman and…Kaspyn.