The Lightning-Struck Heart (Tales From Verania 1) - Page 198

“Oh?” Kevin said. “Is it because I’m your first?”

“Yes. My one and only and—”

He reached out with a claw and scraped it on the ground next to my feet. “How did it feel to have your dragon cherry popped?”

Justin coughed quite angrily. It was impressive.

Kevin quickly pulled his claws back and turned to Justin again. “No, baby,” he said. “It was just a joke. Just joking around. Sam and his cock lips mean nothing to me. You’re my one and only. You complete me. Without you, my six hearts are just forty-pound organs that beat dully and without cause. You’re so special.”

“Aww,” I couldn’t help but say.

“You’ll see,” Kevin said. “I’ll make sure you have everything—”

His nostrils flared as he jerked his head toward the great doors. A low, rumbling growl started somewhere in his middle and crawled its way up his throat and out his mouth.

“What is it now?” I sighed because it was always going to be something.

“Something approaches,” Kevin said. “Three heartbeats. Coming down the road, maybe ten minutes away.”

“It’s probably the cult,” I said. “Bringing you corn. Don’t eat it because you’ll end up telling someone embarrassing things that you’re not ready for, like how much you want to do them—”

Justin glared and took a step toward me.

“Do them no wrong,” I finished hastily. “Because doing wrong things is bad and no one should do them. Especially to others.”

“Stay in the keep,” Kevin snapped and clambered out the front doors. He nudged them shut behind him, leaving Justin and I in relative darkness.

“So,” I said. “This is awkward.”

Justin sighed. “Come on. We can watch what’s going on from up top.”

Unable to think of anything else to do, I followed him as he turned toward the stairs.

CHAPTER 22

Cornerstone

THE STAIRS curved up around the interior edges of the keep. We passed by a landing or two that collapsed long ago, but other floors were still intact and cluttered with even more of Kevin’s hoard. Books and treasure, paintings and dishes. He’d amassed quite a bit for having been in Verania for less than three months. Or maybe he’d brought it from the east, where rumors of thick, haunted jungles run rampant.

The last floor before the roof of the keep was different.

It was clean and sparse, and there was a large bed in the corner with pillows and blankets knocked askew. A dresser stood near the doorway with a bookshelf on the opposite wall. An open window near the back of the room let in light and a sweet spring breeze. This room was comforting. Almost like a home.

“This is where you’ve stayed, isn’t it,” I said.

Justin hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s not that bad.”

“It doesn’t look like it, no.”

“He’s….”

“Kevin?”

“He’s taken care of me,” he said quickly, as if embarrassed. “Food and water. This room. He brought these things. For me. I don’t know how he got them. I don’t know why. But he did.”

“Yeah,” I said. “He sure seems real swell.”

Justin scoffed. “It was better when I couldn’t understand him.”

Tags: T.J. Klune Tales From Verania Fantasy
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