Page 125 of Psycho Pack

"You know what this means though, right?" Whiskey asks, his tone taking on that dangerous edge that usually precedes something incredibly stupid.

I sigh. "I'm afraid to ask."

"You havechambers." His grin turns wicked. "With abed. A fancy-ass royal bed."

Heat floods my face. "Absolutely not."

"Aw, come on?—"

"We are not defiling my childhood bed, you absolute barbarian."

Ivy makes a choking sound that's half laugh, half mortification. But I don't miss the way her scent spikes with interest.

Traitor.

"Your loss," Whiskey says with an exaggerated sigh. "Could've been fun. Making new memories to chase out the old ones and all that philosophical shit."

The words hit harder than I expect. Chase out the old ones... isn't that what I've been trying to do for the past decade? Running from my ghosts, burying myself in violence and clinical detachment?

But maybe... maybe he has a point.

Not about the bed—absolutely notabout the bed—but about making new memories.

Better ones.

"You're thinking too hard again," Ivy murmurs, squeezing my hand. "I can practically hear the gears grinding."

"Someone has to think in this pack," I reply automatically. "Lord knows it won't be him."

"Hey!" Whiskey protests. "I think plenty. Actually, I just had a really deep thought, didn't I?"

"Truly profound." But I can't help the fondness that creeps into my voice.

He grins, clearly pleased with himself for making me smile. The expression transforms his whole face, softening the hard edges of the warrior into something... sweeter. More vulnerable.

When did I start noticing these things?

When did I start caring?

"By the way," Whiskey says, leaning in like he's going to tell me a big secret. "I'm pretty sure you have agoddess, not a lord, or whatever else you say to pretend you're a normie like the rest of us."

"It really doesn't matter," I say dryly. "I'm not religious. Another thing that makes me the black sheep of the family."

Although my prayers seem to have been answered anyway. Ivy is safe, after all. And somehow, against all odds, we all survived.

Strange.

"We should probably get back," Ivy says reluctantly. "Before the others come looking for us too."

She's right. Of course she's right. But I'm not ready to face them yet. Not ready to leave this strange bubble of peace we've found in the last place I ever expected to find it.

Just a few more minutes.

"They can wait," Whiskey says, as if reading my mind. He stretches out his legs, making himself comfortable. "Pretty sure Thane's still having an existential crisis anyway. Bro's been dissociating since the cave."

Ivy's face burns. "I'd rather not think about that right now."

Whiskey looks over at her with a grin. "What? Got that post-nut clarity going after you sucked off Wraith in front of all of us?"