Page 178 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

Cirre hopped up into the branches of a nearby tree, lying low on her belly as she watched, tail swishing in anticipation.

Silently, Roremar pulled his sword from his back, listening. The steps were light, shuffling over the fallen vines, but a soft blue glow spilled across the mossy greenery.

A mystlight lantern.

It swung slowly back and forth across the space. Whoever it was was clearly looking for something.

Emmeline stood behind him, dagger in hand as the light ebbed toward them. Water droplets rolled down the back of his neck from the ends of his hair, trailing so slow he swore time stood still.

When the person was within reach, Cirre screeched and dropped from her perch. A male scream bounced off the trees as she tackled him, the two rolling through the brush.

Roremar and Emmeline tore from their hiding place, weapons raised, but Cirre was already sitting on the man’s chest, tail slapping his cheeks with every pass.

Not some random person, but⁠—

“Perry?” Emmeline gasped.

At the realization, Roremar waved a hand, calling Cirre off. She pranced to his side, sitting before Emmeline instead of him. Emmeline didn’t sheathe her dagger as she glared at Perry, but she brushed her fingers over Cirre’s crescent mark.

“Traitor,” Roremar whispered to the feline.

“She has taste,” Emmeline said with a pert smile.

Cirre purred louder.

“That beast is yours?” Perry coughed, still getting air back into his lungs. He pushed upright, lifting his lantern to brush the dirt from his leathers. The light warmed the chill clinging to Roremar’s damp skin.

“In a way,” Roremar said, sheathing his sword and not offering further explanation. “What are you doing here? Did you follow us?”

Before Perry could answer, grumbling and laughter echoed through the trees. Desmond burst onto the path, stumbling to a halt as Myrella grabbed his arm.

“Cirre?” Des asked, gaze flicking to Perry. “What are you doing here?”

“Is that a panther?” Myrella gasped.

“Her name is Cirre,” Desmond explained, searching the ground at their feet like he’d dropped something.

“She has a name?” Awe turned Myrella’s voice breathy as she watched Emmeline stroke the beast’s head. Cirre let out a pleased purr. “I thought Nico was joking…”

“We don’t joke about Cirre, and Perry was about to explain what he’s doing here,” Roremar answered, gaze tracking Desmond as he scoured the ground. “What are you looking for, Des?”

“One thing at a time. Perry,” Emmeline said in an authoritative voice that went straight to Roremar’s cock. He nearly groaned. He didn’t need that right now. Not in the middle of the jungle surrounded by his friends.

“I followed you,” Perry admitted without any hint of shame or scheming. “I lost you all a while back and have been traipsing around the waterfalls trying to find you.”

Roremar forgot all hints of lust at that. “Why?”

Emmeline was stiff at his side, an assessing stare trained on Perry that Roremar didn’t fully comprehend. She clearly didn’t trust him, though.

Desmond crept in circles around their group, searching the jungle path. He snatched the lantern from Perry’s hand, holding it higher to illuminate the earth.

Perry grumbled at Desmond but didn’t fight back. “I visited your cell to see if the guards woke up. They were out cold, by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” Myrella interjected.

Roremar’s jaw ticked, muscles bunching. “Rocarri knows I left today, so I figured I didn’t need to stay around. He’s playing some sick power game with my head.”

Emmeline’s hand slipped into his, and he instantly relaxed. Fates, he could kill the Chancellor for convincing her she had to stay away from him. She was so scarred from her past, she spooked easily when it came to intimacy. Kept running from him every chance she got because this vulnerability petrified her.