Chapter 209

Knock.. Knock...

A knock—double, then single—Malcor’s pattern for not urgent, but not later.

Dante sighed into my hair once, then stood in one fluid lift, bringing me with him.

He set me on my feet, brushed my skirts smooth with the kind of domestic care that would make Marta cackle, and went to the door.

Malcor didn’t quite fill the threshold the way my mate does—no one does—but he brought the w