They stayed wrapped in the velvet blanket for a long time, the quiet secret room smelling faintly of rain and sweet fruit. Mailah rested her head on Grayson's broad, warm chest, listening to the slow, steady thud of his heart.
An ancient demon, three thousand years old, lying on a pile of cushions in a hidden pantry room, completely content simply stroking her hair.
Then, right in the middle of the peaceful silence, Mailah's stomach let out a loud, clear rumble.
Mailah froze. Her face flushed bright pink against his chest.
Grayson's dark eyebrows shot up. He looked down at her, his deep blue eyes lighting up with sudden, dramatic concern.
"What was that sound?" Grayson asked, his voice dropping into a grave, serious whisper. "Was that a threat? Is there a rogue shadow hiding under the sofa?"
"No, Grayson," Mailah laughed, hiding her red face in his neck. "That was my stomach. We never actually finished eating breakfast."
