Page 109 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

The floor is bare, wooden planks gleaming dark in the sunlight. I leave my shoes next to Lark’s boots, and he hesitates for a second before he pulls me into his arms.

I rest my head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. We’ve made it. I didn’t think we would. And from the way he’s breathing, the way he’s clinging to me, he didn’t think so, either.

“I should have…” I tip my head back and look into his face. “I shouldn’t have made a deal like that, should I?”

“Why not?”

“I’ve trapped you in it, too.”

Lark laughs softly. He cups my cheek in one hand and presses his thumb to the corner of my mouth. “Dante,” he breathes, “I was already trapped. You freed me.”

I’m ready for his kiss, soft and sweet as it is. His other arm wraps around my waist and I wrap mine around him, soaking up his warmth. There’s no urgency to what we’re doing. We just need to be close, and the bond needs it, too. It vibrates between us, magic pushing back and forth.

“We really should rest today,” Lark murmurs. “We both almost—”

“Yeah.” I’ll tell Kieran about that later. Much later. Maybe never, if I can get away with it, though I already know I’ll give it up by the end of the week. “I need to shower.”

“All right.” Lark kisses my forehead and slowly lets go. “There are towels in the bathroom.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Do you need anything?” I study his face. He’s not asking lasciviously, even though he could. And he’s not being dismissive.

I consider it. “Yeah.” It’s been a lot. If I sleep naked, I’m not going to rest properly. Not today.

“I’ll find something.”

“You’re not going to have anything that fits me.”

He’s wearing his glamour, and my stomach jolts at the fact that his teeth aren’t sharp when he smiles. “Magic, love,” he says. “What kind of thing would you like to wear?”

“T-shirt. Shorts. Nothing fancy.”

Lark nods. “I will leave you something outside the door?”

“Sounds good.” I sway into him and press our lips together. “Thank you.”

I retreat into the bathroom, and as the water heats up, Lark’s magic flares. The feeling isn’t as strong as it was in the Otherworld, and I wonder if the increased baseline level of magic amplified everything, even that? It’s kind of annoying that my phone is dead because I can’t make a note of it, but then I get into the shower and the hot water stops me caring at all.

I rub my hair as dry as I can, grimacing at the purple streaks I leave on the towel I’m using, then wrap it around my waist. Lark is making the bed when I step out into the room, and I glance down to see a neat pile of clothes on the floor in front of me.

He pauses in what he’s doing to look at me. Heat flares, tempered by my exhaustion, and I think it’s the same for him, too. I like it all the same. I drag the T-shirt on and then drop my towel before I pull on the shorts.

Lark makes a faintly strangled sound. “I can sleep on the floor,” he says.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor. If you don’t want to sleep next to me, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

He huffs and fluffs up one of the pillows. I run the towel over my hair again and cross the room. “You need to eat,” he says. “And something to drink.”

“Don’t you?”

Lark presses his lips together. Yes then. Otherwise, he’d just say no. I smile and lean up to kiss him on the cheek. “You go shower. I can get something together for both of us.” There’s a kettle in the kitchen at least, and I’m sure he’s got something we can eat in here.

“Fine,” Lark says, but when he goes to walk away, I grab his shirt and tug him back.

“Thanks for inviting me here,” I murmur. His expression softens immediately. “I didn’t want to be apart from you either.”

He cups my face in one hand. “It is too soon for me to ask you to stay here forever, isn’t it?”