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34. Equal Parts

Devlon met your gaze with a rueful smile. "To accept your and Azriel's mating bond."

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You ran around the first floor to open every window as Devlon sat on the wood stool by the fireplace.

"I'm so sorry about the smell," you said, face burning. When Azriel's amusement crackled through the bond, you shot it down with a single thought. "Do the windows—? Um, does the fresh air help?"

Devlon inspected his right palm. "Um — no. But let's pretend I lied."

"Right. Our bargain." You grimaced. "I'm sorry. Again."

You walked around the kitchen counter, trying not to look at it. It felt like you'd just been caught by your father, and he was trying to play it cool.

"You're fine. It's natural." Devlon offered an awkward smile. "But let's talk. I'd like to get this over with as quickly as possible."

You gave him a look as you sat on the couch next to Azriel. "Surely I can't smell that bad."

Devlon gave you a polite once-over. "No, you don't. And that's the problem."

The comment (compliment?) had caught you so off guard that you almost missed Azriel's reaction. He leaned forward, his expression dark, so you facepalmed him and pushed him back. He made an undignified sound. Even his shadows froze up.

"Down, boy." You flicked his forehead. "Cauldron. You Illyrians are so territorial."

Azriel cut you a glare, but there was no threat behind it.

Devlon coughed around a laugh. "Anyway . . . Let's talk business." He leaned forward on his knees. "The only reason these males want you mated or married is that they think it'll . . . tranquilize you. But you and I both know that's bullshit. It'll never happen."

"Okay, so . . ." You gestured with your hands, thinking. "Who would I marry?"

Azriel jerked back. "Are you serious?"

Devlon pursed his lips and looked away. He scratched his cheek.

"I'm just—" You huffed as you grew hot. "Mating is forever. And I don't think you want that. I mean, fuck. I don't even know what I want to eat after I wake up."

Azriel stared at you. For someone who barely emoted, his eyes were comically wide. "Um, in case you've forgotten, marriage is forever too."

You rolled your eyes as you turned away. "I could just — kill whoever I marry. I could make it look like an accident."

Devlon cleared his throat aggressively. "I, um—" He fought a grimace and lost. "You'd be marrying me, so, uh— I don't really feel like dying."

Azriel narrowed his eyes at the other male and smiled, but it was humorless.

You snorted and then giggled, and once you started, you couldn't stop.

"I'm sorry—" You gasped for air as you stood. You paced as you calmed down. "Wow! Wow. Okay . . . Well. That was a surprise. And funny! Right, Azriel?"

Azriel tried to force a more genuine smile and failed; it turned into a sneer. "Ha. So funny."

Devlon sighed, exasperated. "Listen, I came back thinking you'd still be at each other's throats, so I didn't give a shit about the marriage thing. I still don't. So if you choose the first option, then we get married. If you choose the second, then you and Azriel accept the mating bond." Devlon stood, running a hand through his hair. You noticed the blood under his nails. "I just don't want any more people to die."