Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“But he’ll always have a connection,” I pointed out.
“He’s bound to the House of Sloane.”
“I bet I could unbind him really fucking fast,” I countered.
Trent sighed. “Tix is immortal, and if you somehow found a way to off him, Hell would simply grow a new one. There’s always a keeper of the house as there is always a head of the house. And before you accuse Gray, if he steps down, he opens up the head of household spot for one of his relatives, and none of it will sever the connection to our son. It simply means Gray doesn’t have any control.”
I didn’t care in that moment. “Which he should have told me before he decided to knock me up.”
“I didn’t really understand how it worked because I never thought to ask. I knew any child of ours couldn’t be forced into Hell. I didn’t grow up in the house and didn’t go there as an adult, so I didn’t understand that the keeper of the house could track me.” Gray held out the flowers. “I got them for you. I thought you would like them.”
I took them. They were beautiful. Black and purple and midnight blue blooms that seemed to shimmer. “They’re lovely.”
“They’re grown in the gardens surrounding the palace,” he admitted quietly. “I know you’re mad, but I’m trying, Kelsey mine. Can we talk?”
“I need to work.”
Fenrir groaned. “Come on, Pops. I can smell it. Do you know how long it’s been since I had some?”
“I have to admit, I missed it, too,” Trent said.
Gray leaned over and brushed his lips across my forehead. “Wolves.” He stepped back and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a bag and what looked like a small piece of beef jerky. “Here you go, buddy. I told the kitchens to make sure they have a steady supply.”
Gray tossed it into the air and Fenrir easily caught it. In his mouth. Like it was a frisbee except he ate it.
Thankfully Gray simply handed Trent the bag.
“Damn that smells good.” Trent downed one, too, before offering me the bag. “You want to try one, baby?”
Evan cleared her throat and looked at me with wide eyes that told me I should ask questions.
“What is that made of, Gray?”
“Meat,” came the reply. “Like all jerky. It’s a snack the kitchens came up with.”
“The kitchens on the Hell plane,” I pointed out with deep suspicion.
“In Demonish the name for it is zyll a ill pora.” Evan seemed to know way more than I did.
“And in English?”
“The Meat of My Enemies,” she replied.
“Are you feeding my son treats made from the flesh of your enemies, Grayson Sloane?”
“They taste great,” Fen assured me. “This is both nutritious and delicious. Hit me, Dad.”
“Don’t you dare, Trent.” I pointed his way, but he seemed to have half the bag down his throat.
Fen groaned.
“It’s just a name. It’s actually made from cattle found on the Hell plane,” Gray replied. “But I would like to point out that you’re the one who wants me to be comfortable with my demonic side.”
“I meant for sex stuff not for slaughtering your enemies and making them into treats. Why is that box moving? Please tell me that’s not something else for Fen to eat,” I complained as I pointed to the twitchy box. “He will get a tummy ache and we have a million things to do tonight.”
Yes, I was the fun mom.
“Oh, this is a present for Evan,” Gray said, dropping to one knee.
Two paws and a head popped up over the side of the box, and the goofiest, ugliest, most adorable thing I’d ever seen was suddenly drooling up at me.
Evan gasped. “Is that what I think it is? Is that a hellhound puppy?”
“You said you always wanted one, and he was the runt of a litter born on our estate. They were going to feed him to the others,” Gray explained. “Come and hold him. He’ll bond to you if you keep him close and feed him. He’s small and impressionable. Hellhounds have to learn to be violent and aggressive, and he’s so young he hasn’t started training yet. He’s barely twenty-four hours old.”
Evan dropped to her knees and picked up the chubby puppy. “Hi, boy. You are the sweetest thing. Look at you.”
Pitch black eyes stared at her with obvious worship, and his purplish tongue lolled out from between sharp fangs. His body wriggled as though he wanted to be close to her.
It was cute and sweet and completely the wrong time. I turned to my husband, who might have been trying to make some amends to the kids and me, but he was also causing trouble. “Is that dog even house trained? Do we even know if the primals allow hellhounds in the Under?”
Gray frowned. “He’s only a puppy. And we’re going back to Frelsi soon, right?”