Velaris's Heir

Part 8

"Yeah yeah. But he's a cranky old bat now. Aren't you, Rhys?"

"Fuck. You," Rhys responded from the kitchen.

"Amren is a lot older than he is, you know," I told Cass, who still had his arm around my shoulders.

"And look how cranky she is." He lead me into the living where Amren sat with one leg slung over Varian's lap as she sucked on his neck. He glanced up from kissing her shoulder when she lifted her hand to flip off Cassian. One would think they would cool off eventually, but no. They were closer than ever.

"See? See how cranky? There are too many old people in this house," he said.

"Aren't you one of those old people?" I said with a laugh.

"Yeah, but I got a fiesty twenty-eight year old to straighten me out. Ain't that right, dearest?" My sister was sitting in the window seat. She gave Cassian the same vulgar gesture Amren had.

"So fiesty. Think there's a room in this house without cranky people?" he asked as he lead me away.

"Garden?" I guessed. Elain would probably be there, even if it was dark.

The second we opened the door, Mor said, "Fuck off."

I poked my head in anyway. I could see my sister and Mor thanks to the faelight by the door.

"Why?" I asked.

"Oh," she said relieved. "I thought it was Cassian."

"It is me," the subject of conversation answered from behind me.

"Go away!"

"Why?" I asked again.

"Because we're talking about stuff," she widened her eyes at me.

"Midnight stuff?" When she nodded, I closed the door and Cass put his arm around me with a sigh and lead me to the dining room. No one was there so I sat down and asked Rhys to bring me tea when he came out of the kitchen.

Of course, my darling, he replied.

Azriel came down the stairs and his original course lead into the living room, but, upon seeing Amren and Varian, altered his course into the dining room.

"Look! Another walking fossil," Cass whispered to me, not quietly enough for Azriel to not hear.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Az retaliated as he took a seat across from me.

"Azriel, you know he carries a mirror in his pocket wherever he goes and stares at himself whenever he gets the chance. Fussing over his beautiful hair," I said, trying—and failing—to conceal laughter.

Az chuckled, but Cass lifted his hand to his chest in offense. "Ouch. One, I used to carry a mirror. Past tense. And two, you—" he jabbed a finger in my direction— "switched sides on me." He looked dramatically out the window and lifted his hand to his chest once more. "I am wounded. Truly."

"What sides?" I laughed.

He ignored my question and dropped his hand, saying dramatically, "I have received nothing but 'fuck you' and 'go away' while in this house of cranky old people."

"I'm twenty-six so I'm not a cranky old person. Also, calling people 'old' and 'cranky' isn't going to get you a single 'thank you,' Cassian."

Rhys walked in with my tea and, setting it down in front of me, kissed my head.

"I didn't call you old and cranky. I called the people in this house old and cranky. Generally, not personally."

I gave him a look mixed with amusement. "Thanks for clearing that up," I said blandly.