you confident, not cocky.”
“Uh-huh,” she replied, her voice growing fainter as they walked toward the living area and away from the bedrooms. “It held the same implication.”
“We should probably go,” Zeph said, his voice low.
I swallowed, nodding. “Yeah.”
Ella and Tray didn’t know about our quad-bond, something Zeph made apparent by leaving my room ahead of me and leading the way down the hall in his usual aloof manner. His presence in the guest suite didn’t seem to raise any questions. He shared a history with Kols, so Ella and Tray had just sort of accepted his staying here even though he had a place next door.
“Where are you two heading off to?” Tray asked as we entered the living area. He had Ella’s hips pressed up against the counter that divided the kitchen from the rest of the room. It was set up like a little eating nook with stools, but most of us used the dining table beside the kitchen instead.
“Aflora wants a proper loaf,” Zeph replied, sounding annoyed. “Because apparently my magicked ones aren’t good enough for her.”
“Well, if you just figured out what mouseberries were, this wouldn’t be a problem,” I shot back, playing along.
He grunted and grabbed his cloak from the back of the couch. “Let’s go, Earth Fae.”
“Hold on,” Tray said, stepping away from Ella to give us an incredulous look. “Are you going to the village?”
“Where else would we go?” Zeph asked, arching a brow. “New York? London? Oh, no, I know—we’ll just go visit Elemental Fae Academy. I’m sure no one will mind at all.”
“Don’t be a dick,” Tray snapped. “Why the hell would you go to the tavern right now?”
Zeph waved at me. “Because Aflora wants some mustard berries.”
“Mouseberries,” I corrected him.
He gave Tray a look that said, Do you see what I’m dealing with here?
Tray wasn’t amused, nor was he buying the excuse. “Kols is with my father right now trying to convince him that he’s innocent, and you’re heading off to the scene of the crime. Don’t think for one second I believe your bullshit about mouseberries.”
“You’re right,” Zeph drawled. “It’s the spritemead she’s really after.”
Ella cleared her throat. “Guys, Tray has a point. The village has to be crawling with Warrior Bloods right now, and I doubt the tavern is even open.”
“It is,” Zeph replied. “I already spoke to Anrika. She said it’s perfectly safe for us to come in, so we’re going for a midnight lunch. You can believe whatever you want, Tray. As for the Warrior Bloods, then I guess it’s a good thing I’m one of them. Now let’s go, Aflora.” He walked through the threshold before either of them could comment, clearly done with the conversation.
“Bastard,” Tray muttered. “This is a horrible idea.”
“I’ll be okay,” I promised him.
“I don’t know what you two are up to, but be careful,” Ella pressed, obviously seeing right through our excuse as well.
At least we tried. “We’ll be fine,” I told her, forcing a smile. “See you in a few hours.”
Taking a page from Zeph’s book, I slipped through the threshold before they could argue and found him waiting against the wall for me in the residential hallway. He arched a brow, then cocked his head to the side as if to say, Let’s go.
I followed him silently past all the creepy gargoyles and continued to trail after him down the two flights of stairs. He led me outside and along the various paths to the raven field without saying a word and called up the portal for us to step through.
It wasn’t until the birds began to swarm around us that he touched me, his palm a brand to my lower back as he pulled me close under the guise of keeping me safe during transport. But I felt the lingering need in his embrace, just as I sensed his lips in my hair as he gifted me a kiss where no one could see.
My mouth curled upward.
This side of Zeph—the quietly affectionate side—excited me. Mostly because he didn’t let anyone else see this part of him. He sometimes revealed it in front of Kols and had sort of showed it to Shade the other night, but it all tied back to his tenderness with me. I suspected it was a foreign reaction for him, which only made it more special.
“We’re here,” he whispered, drawing my attention to the cloak closet around us.
I glanced up at him and went to my toes to kiss the edge of his mouth. “They’re mouseberries,” I informed him softly, earning a smile in return. “And I’m going to make you try one today.”