Ivy Cross and the Monarch of Darkness (Dark Inquisitor Series Book 1) by A.D. Winter

Author:A.D. Winter [Winter, A.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-24T05:00:00+00:00

24

Ivy

I plopped down onto the plush recliner in Crag's bedroom, getting a glimpse of what it felt like to be an elf.

I'd never been in a room like this before. Soft pillows. Cushy recliners. The air scented with the kiss of rose perfume. Heck, even the bed comforter was embroidered with the golden flowers of the Ancient East.

The bathroom wasn't bad, either.

I'd used it to take a shower, allowing the warm water to slide over my taut muscles as I washed away the day's troubles.

Fortunately, Crag had been sweet enough to lend me a white robe. I tied the belt around my waist and dug my toes into the gentle carpet, breathing a sigh of relief. This was definitely the life.

But I couldn’t relax.

The Tower bells would ring soon, and my excommunication from the Order would go into effect. I needed to focus. I needed to find the evidence to prove my innocence.

Still, it was hard in these plush surroundings. I took a sip from the bottle of Elven Sparkle that I’d stolen from the family’s wine cellar, and allowed myself a moment of peace. Well, if my life is coming to an end, might as well do it in style.

“If you don’t mind, my dear?” Crag held out a glass flute for me to fill.

“Not at all.”

I had begun to fill his glass when I was suddenly distracted by the most delicious sight.

Dryden had entered the room and was striding across the carpeted floor with a towel wrapped around his toned waist. His hair was still wet from his shower, and his bare chest and six-pack were glistening with droplets of water.

Ouch!

I turned as I heard the sound of wine hitting the carpet. I’d been letting it spill over Crag’s glass the entire time.

“By the goddess,” I said, pulling back the bottle and quickly apologizing for the mess.

But Crag didn’t seem to care. He’d been as distracted by Dryden’s body as much as I had.

A smile curled beneath the dwarf’s red mustache as he sashayed across the room to the young wizard.

Dryden lit a ciggy and took a drag.

“Is that dragon’s weed?” Crag asked, taking a seat next to him at the edge of the bed.

Dryden arched a brow at the dwarf, seeming impressed. “You partake?”

“I must admit,” Crag said, “it’s not my thing. The smoke and all. But I do dabble in it from time to time, whenever the opportunity arises.”

“Ah,” Dryden said, seeming pleased. “A fellow connoisseur.” He handed Crag the ciggy, motioning for him to try it, and the dwarf took the longest drag I’d ever seen.

Not a good idea. Seconds later he was coughing up a lung, and his eyes were filling with tears. Dryden and I laughed.

“Good show, old boy,” Dryden said, patting the dwarf on the back.

“It’s been a while,” Crag admitted with another series of coughs. “But that is definitely quality substance.”

“Not as strong as the stench of that shifter though,” Dryden complained. He took a whiff of his arm and cringed. “I can still smell it on me.

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