shadows are gone.
“Just a few hours, don’t worry,” he assures me before flinging his other arm over his eyes, his feet half hanging off the bed.
Iceman tosses a pillow down to Crux, who catches it with one hand and stuffs it under his head. My eyes skate over to my lava demon, who’s still standing at the foot of the bed, dark arms crossed over his chest, his flame-colored hair completely dry from the shower, just like my own hair and wings. I have a feeling he fire-dried me without me even realizing it.
He looks at me in challenge, and I give him a sigh. “Can you not be difficult right now?” I tell him. He just stares at me, of course, because Difficult is his middle name. “Get your hot ass in bed so I can get some sleep, or else I’m going to turn as cranky as you.”
“Looks like the bed is pretty fucking full,” he gripes.
“Oh, come on, there’s plenty of room. Unless you’re scared of a little cuddling?” I tease.
He rolls his fiery eyes, but he steps around the bed, just like I knew he would. Jerif can’t back down from a challenge.
“Move,” he snaps at Echo, but my shadow demon just gives him the finger without removing the arm that’s slung over his eyes.
Jerif places a knee on the bed and then maneuvers himself until he’s lying parallel to the padded headboard behind us, forcing Echo and Iceman to scoot down a bit, which makes Crux grumble about having their feet in his space. I laugh again as the four of them get situated. It’s a bit like a picky kid not wanting any of their different foods to touch on their plate.
Finally, after way too many minutes of them fucking with one other and being purposely obnoxious by shoving feet and elbows into each other, they settle down. Jerif plops a feather pillow in his lap for me to lay my head on, and I curl up on my non-injured wing side, basking in the feel of the four of them boxing me in. We each drop off into sleep within minutes, our steady, even breaths a soundtrack to my heart, reminding me that even though the Ophidian got away, we made it out alive, and that’s what matters most.
“Maverick, wake up.”
I get shaken awake by a gentle, cool hand, and my gray eyes blearily lift open.
I realize that I’m the last one still sleeping in the bed, and I rub my eyes as I sit up, noting immediately that my wing no longer hurts, not even with a dull throb. I glance at the arched top of it, and the feathered appendages spread out like they’re stretching after a long sleep. “It’s healed,” I say with a bit of awe.
“Yes, it healed well,” Iceman tells me, and I notice that he’s fully dressed in a gray button up and black slacks. “Sleep did you good.”
I look at the ticking clock hanging up on the powdery blue wall and see that it’s late afternoon. I must’ve slept for a good nine hours or so.
“Where are the others?”
“They went to get dressed. Nefta just woke up,” he tells me.
I immediately throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand. I’m still in the silk robe I fell asleep in, and I’m not sure where my clothes ended up, but I doubt Grumpy Lurch had the time to clean them already. “What can I wear?” I ask.
Of course, Iceman is always one step ahead. He nods over to a white wood table near the curtained window, and I walk over to it, finding a dark blue sleeveless crop top and a pair of soft jeans. There’s even underwear this time. No bra, but I don’t even know what size I am anymore or how I’d snap one on with my wings, anyway.
“Where’d you get these?” I ask with surprise as I start pulling my underwear and jeans on beneath the robe.
“We had Strut go pick some things up, just to hold you over until we can go to your house and get your things.”
I pause right before I undo the belt holding the robe closed and look over at him. “My things?”
His icy eyes are latched on where I’m holding the tie in my hands, like he’s just waiting for me to finish undoing it. I’m suddenly all too aware that only fabric separates my naked body from his. The sexual tension in the