Page 50 of The Order of the Bitter Hunt

“You are. You know, I pegged you as a bad boy the first day we met.”

He sits up, throwing a pillow in my general direction. It misses, and I open my eyes, reaching for it.

“With your aim,” I say, laughing, “I know you’re definitely not the jock type.”

He glares, but there’s less malice than I’m used to. “Give me the pillow.”

“No.” I drop it onto the bed next to me. I don’t need another pillow, but I don’t want to give it to him. “Good night.”

“Margaux.” He laughs, and for once, there’s no bitterness in the sound. “Give me the fucking pillow.”

“Say ‘please.’”

“Now.”

I turn my head to glare at him, but the vision of Jun on his pathetic little couch elicits guilt. There’s a flash of red in his eyes. The stern way he’s looking at me gives me another stomachache.

I sigh and throw the pillow back to him.

“Thank you,” he says, placing it under his head.

This night isn’t so bad. Even with Jun’s annoying, rough voice being the last thing I hear, I sleep like a baby.

Chapter Fourteen

Gray sunlight drips into the room far earlier than I would prefer. Jun is trying to torture me, isn’t he? He doesn’t pay me any mind as he shuffles around the room, as obnoxious as he’s ever been.

I drape an arm over my face and groan. “What time is it?”

“Nine. I let you sleep in. Don’t tell anyone I’m not generous.”

“Nineisn’t generous.”

While I’m not as sensitive to sunlight as a turned vampire, I’m still not the biggest fan of the morning. Tobey understands this, and they spend so much time out and about during the day that they never bother me like this. Jun is making me miss them, even though we’ve only been apart for an evening.

He sets a plate on the bedside table, and the clatter of glass makes me cringe. I sit up swiftly, fixing him with a sharp glare.

Jun holds up his hands in surrender. “I thought vampires hating the day was a myth—or at least exaggerated. My bad.” He points to the plate. “I brought you breakfast. You’re fucking welcome.”

I narrow my eyes on the plate next to me. English muffin, butter, and jam. It’s not my usual breakfast, and it isn’t what I need, but it will do for now.

Now that I’m not dating, my blood supply is low. I’m forced to do the most dreaded thing imaginable—drink from the bottled supply Strode offers. It’s nowhere near as satisfying, and my hunger grows by the day.

I pick up the plate, taking a tentative bite of the muffin. “Thank you.”

“Finally, some fucking manners.” He plops onto the couch, running his fingers through his long, dark hair.

“I’ve always had good manners.”

“Not with me, you haven’t.”

That’s true, and I should probably be kinder to him. He let me use his room as a sanctuary and sleep in his gigantic bed. I would show gratitude to anyone else in this situation, but I fear lathering Jun in praise will make me ill.

A playful smile curls on my lips. “You’re the exception.”

He shakes his head. “Well, I have to leave soon, and you’re not staying here alone.”

“Where, exactly, do you have to go?”