my apple core at him. “Hey! I’ll have you know that my soul is awesome, and he’d probably really love the taste of me.”
Whoops, badly worded. At the mention of my taste, Rook’s eyes take on such an intense heated look, that I’m forced to glance away.
“Behave, Sinclair,” he says roughly as he opens the iron door with a loud creak. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
I nod and follow him, pressing my face up against the rectangular peephole as he closes the door behind him and locks up. “How long are they making me stay in here?”
“One day for every guard you gave the smack-down to.”
I groan. “Geez, you swipe your tail one time and everyone loses their minds.”
He smirks. “Good luck with your tunnel.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, wriggling my fingers at him as he turns and walks down the dark corridor. I watch until I can’t see him anymore, and then I slump onto my flat pillow and dump out the satchel, intending to use the rest of the contents to do a little bit of interior decorating in this place. It needs all the color it can get.
The second the contents are on the floor at my feet, my eyes home in on the green rock he left for me—the same one he held up to me in the rec yard when I was in my beast form.
A smile crosses my lips as I pick it up and turn it over in my fingers, admiring the color and texture. My tail slithers out to rub on it like a cat, and I realize with a little bit of dread that I already miss the asshole, and he’s only been gone for five seconds.
I’m in so much trouble.
Rook is hanging out with me in my solitary cell again, just like he’s visited me every day for the past three days. His visits are the only thing I can look forward to, because solitary is...well, solitary. It’s lonely. Boring. Time drags like a dog’s ass on the carpet. But the moment my ears perk up at the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor, I know it’s him, and my heart goes full flutter. It’s fucking annoying.
He usually shows up just when my stomach starts to growl and I’ve gone through all my food, like magic. And despite all the warnings I tell myself, despite the fact that I know I shouldn’t, I’ve formed a friendship with him already. I’ve learned how funny he can be, how easy to talk to, and that we have things in common. Plus, he’s very easy on the eyes, and he always brings me a satchel full of goodies. What’s not to like?
Today, he smuggled me in an entire hot plate of dinner. I nearly moaned when I saw the steam. After days of tepid water and packaged food, eating a bowl of hot chili and fresh cornbread was like heaven. He also brought me another rock. It’s sitting against the wall with the other one, and I’m not too proud to admit that they’re the best things in the room.
“I’m just saying, you’re not a very good prison guard, that’s all,” I tell Rook as we sit across the small room, our outstretched feet touching every so often when we move.
He has a big bag of chips that he’s been chomping on for the past ten minutes, and he lifts his fingers into his mouth every once in a while to lick off the salt. My mouth waters every time. I find myself wanting to snatch his hand and suck those fingers into my mouth instead, and it’s not because of the sodium craving.
“Fuck that noise, I’m an awesome guard,” he tells me.
“You tried to talk my cockatrice down instead of tasing me like the others,” I point out, mostly because I’m curious as to why he did that. I’ve been thinking about it for days.
“Why would I tase you?”
“Did you see me? I was ferocious.”
He laughs and licks his fingers again before he runs his tongue over his pillowy bottom lip. I find myself mimicking him, and the corner of his mouth kicks up a notch. “You were adorable.”
Immediately, I rear back and frown at him. “Adorable?” I say, affronted. “I was not adorable. I was vicious and bloodthirsty! Did you see the barrel rolls I did in the air?”
“I saw,” he says, clearly trying not to smile. “Really good flying.”
“Thank you,” I say pertly.
“Personally, I wanted you to do more barrel rolls