Rejected (Shadow Beast Shifters, #1)(94)

I hitched the sheet up tighter. “Do you have any clothing here for me?” I asked.

The flames flared as his eyes dropped along my body. “Inky can procure some.”

Of course it could.

Shadow turned away, and I didn’t imagine the tic in his jaw as he did. There was no time for me to overanalyze what that meant, because he was back in minutes with a set of clothes that fit me perfectly. I used the bedroom to change into the underwear, black shirt, skinny jeans, and a pair of calf-high black biker boots, which I loved more than any shoes I’d ever owned in my life.

My hair was a hot mess after being left to dry while also being thrashed about in my throes of pleasure, so there wasn’t much I could do except finger-comb through the tangled curls and leave it as a mass of insanity down my back. Not like I was trying to impress anyone, anyway. Apparently, I was nothing more than a duty to Shadow, and since it was laughable to think we could ever have more than a night of pleasure like that—he was a freaking god, for freak’s sake—I needed to get my head back to the status quo.

When I returned to the library, Shadow and Inky were waiting for me, and together, they led me out of the room and up another set of stairs that I hadn’t known was there. As Shadow’s broad shoulders disappeared onto the next floor, I followed, my mouth falling open as I reassessed if the library was still my favorite room.

It was an observatory. The entire floor, as large as the one below, had floor-to-ceiling windows that went on forever. “Wow,” I breathed, stepping closer. It seemed we had a much higher vantage point to see everything, even though it was only one floor above.

“Shadow is all about views and books,” Len said, walking in from wherever he’d been. His eyes were twinkling, and he was once again clad in the silver cloak, his hair pulled back in a braid, showcasing the perfect planes of his face.

“Views and books,” I replied. “Nothing wrong with that.” They were two of my favorite things in life as well, but I refrained from admitting that out loud.

When Len reached me, he kissed my cheek like we were old friends, and Shadow’s chest rumbled at the same time, which had Len chuckling. “Calm yourself, bro. I’m just saying hello.”

Pushing through both of them, I let a scowl form on my face. “No touchie from either of you, okay?

Just show me whatever you were about to do up here.”

Neither missed a beat, striding away from the window toward a brightly lit back corner, where a… shiny silver chair sat.

“In the Shadow Realm,” Shadow said, standing close enough behind me that I could almost feel his touch, “we have a technique of marking our skin using energy from the creatures we control…

from the mists. It’s the only ‘ink’ that circumvents our healing abilities.” He gestured to where Len was now bustling around, placing two shimmery jars on the tray table. Both jars appeared to house a mini Inky of swirling, smoky darkness. “I managed to bring a small sliver with me, and over time, it has continued to grow. So we slowly add to my piece.” He turned to his friend. “Len can infuse it into my skin using fae magic. He’s here to finish off my backpiece.”

My breathing was a little heavy. I’d always been a sucker for tattoos on men, especially when they were ripped as fuck with ink across their entire backs. I was shallow like that.

I’d caught sight of the ink on Shadow a few times, and I’d definitely wondered how he’d managed to mark his skin—looked like I was finally getting an answer to one of my questions.

Shadow looked smug as he stepped around me, his eyes taking in my facial expression, which was probably giving my thoughts away. Just as he was about to move to the chair, he leaned down and murmured near my ear, “I could scent your arousal anywhere now, Sunshine.”

Biting back a curse and a moan, I clenched my thighs and forced myself not to think about it any longer.

“Stop flirting and get your shirt off,” Len commanded. “I only have a few hours before the family requires my presence.” He grimaced when he said that, and I had a feeling he wasn’t too into family gatherings.

Shadow reached over, grabbing his shirt at the nape, yanking it up and over his head. It was one swift movement, and then all I could see was inked skin draped over muscles. While Len had lithe muscles, Shadow did not—he was big without being too bulky. With perfect abs, broad shoulders, and thick definition in his upper body, he looked like a work of art, and I meant that in more ways than the actual artwork on his skin. Being so long-limbed, it should have been hard to build heavy muscle, but he was clearly not a human or shifter and had managed it very nicely.

I had to bite my tongue to stop the drool from escaping.

“You have a lot of ink already,” I noted, thankful I didn’t sound as breathless as I felt.

Shadow glanced down at the scripted words—at least I assumed they were words since they weren’t in English—dancing across his chest. Below them there were multiple images of what looked like beasts and monsters. “These were done back home,” he said quietly, brushing a hand over them.

The tattoos moved with his touch, the dark ink swirling. Part of me wanted to reach out, too, and see if they would do the same thing for me,

“In the chair, Beast,” Len said, interrupting. He’d adjusted the chair, making it flat, and Shadow lay face down.