Threaded by Tay Rose

Author:Tay Rose [Rose, Tay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: L'eau de Lune Publishing
Published: 2023-06-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 34

Andrian’s rooms were directly across from hers.

The realization struck her with a jolt, questioning how she’d never noticed. She wondered if he’d just been unlucky or if he’d actually selected that room for himself.

The former, most likely.

Gripping her tight, he moved forward, the hand under her legs reaching out and twisting the handle, pushing open the nondescript wood. Andrian strode into the room, nudging the door closed behind them with a gentle kick. The space beyond the entryway was lit softly by two allume chandeliers, just enough light to illuminate the space.

Andrian kept it tidy, but not pristine. It was open, with a door on the right wall Mariah assumed led to the bathing chamber. To the left of the entry was a kitchen, complete with a stovetop, sink, and storage. An island, much like her own, was currently adorned with an array of discarded weapons. Looking further into the room, Mariah saw a bed, its black sheets untucked and tousled, as if Andrian’s sleep had been fitful and disturbed before he’d arrived in the threshold of her room no more than a few moments after she’d killed the Uroboros. Between the island and bed was a square dining table, complete with four chairs, and against the back wall was a comfortable-looking chaise and bookshelves lined with volumes.

The room wasn’t large, and though she’d never been there before, something about the space felt familiar, comfortable. The magic and chaos still thrumming in her head and veins quelled, just slightly.

Andrian kept moving as she took in her surroundings, striding towards the island. He set her down, surprisingly gently, on the countertop, facing the bed and the rest of the room. Her back was to the kitchen, and the shock of the cold granite on her bare thighs had her suddenly aware of how little she wore, and goosebumps prickled instantly over her skin. He looked at her for a moment, his expression utterly unreadable—all traces of that little grin he’d flashed her back in her room nowhere to be found—before stalking to a crystal decanter on the end of the kitchen counter.

Mariah’s eyes tracked him, watched as the muscles in his back shifted beneath his skin with his steps, as he poured two glasses of dark liquor and walked back to where she sat on the island. Her gaze dropped, just once, to the dragon-shaped Mark right over his heart, the black ink bold against his tanned skin. There was a faint dusting of dark hair across his chest, and another line of black hair on his lower abdomen, disappearing beneath the waist-band of his pants—

Her stare snapped back to his face as he handed one of the glasses to her. Andrian stepped back and leaned against the edge of the dining table, crossing his legs in front of him, eyes never leaving hers as he took a deep drink of the liquor.

Mariah’s mouth went dry as she watched him. Nothing about him was real, was fair. No one had

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