Free Prince of Demons 3: The Order of the Black Swan by Victoria Danann Page B

got up to set food out for her. “Yeah. That could have been the story, but he was actually okay as dads go.”
    “You mean like tossing a ball around or frank talks about birds and bees.”
    Brave looked confused. “Anglish.”
    Lana laughed. “That was Anglish! I mean did he spend quality time with you when you were little and did he personally take responsibility for the sex talk?”
    Lana noticed that everyone in the room had frozen. Brave turned to Dart and the two women. “That doesn’t leave this room. Understand?” They nodded, looking like their lives depended on their answer, then left together.
    “Now. What sex talk?”
    Lana stared. “You know sometimes I feel like we come from different worlds.”
    “Is that a joke?”
    “YES! Duh!” Brave opened his mouth, but Lana quickly talked over what he was going to say. “It doesn’t matter. The main thing is that you’re happy with your upbringing and don’t have parent issues. By the way, is there also a foster mom around?”
    “There is, but she’s not here. She teaches magical weaving and spends a lot of time off-world. She was around more when I was younger, but now…”
    “Okay. My turn. What’s magical weaving?”
    “It’s the art of working charms into fabric.”
    Lana’s eyes ran over Brave in a playfully flirtatious way. “Are you, um, wearing anything magical? Now?”
    Brave looked down at himself then raised eyes that had taken on an amused twinkle. “We don’t need special clothes to make magic between us. All we need is close proximity.”
    He leaned in for a kiss, but she ducked away.
    “No. I’m wretched, Brave. I need food and a bath and maybe more sleep. I’m down at the bottom of the Hierarchy of Needs chart here. Food. Bath. Sleep. Then I’m yours.”
    Brave’s expression heated instantly. “Mine.”
    “Well, not literally. I just mean I’ll be more receptive to,” she pointed to his mouth, “kissing.”
    He pulled her close and nuzzled her neck. “And what else?”
    “That’s not an appropriate discussion for concussion victims.”
    “I don’t have a concussion anymore.”
    “Let me see your discharge papers.”
    “If that’s what it takes, I shall produce the necessary paperwork.”
    He guided her to a seat in front of the buffet that had been provided.
    “Eat something.” Lana’s eyes were fixed on the food. “And don’t worry about being dainty. I’ve seen you at your worst.”
    To prove the point, Brave broke off a chunk of bread with his fingers and stuffed it into her mouth.
    She pulled the bread away laughing, but not without having kept a nice bite to chew. It was good. Dark. Soft. Fresh. And different. Like black pumpernickel.
    She briefly examined the utensil, that could only be described as a precious metal version of a spork, before trying a bite of everything in front of her. The tasting was accompanied with a constant hum of moans and yummy sounds that amused Brave to no end. He watched with a grin on his face, basking in the pleasure of nurturing, happy that she was being revived, and proud that he was the one privileged with the task of taking care of her.
    When her eating became noticeably slow and deliberate, Brave caught her arm and urged her to a standing position.
    “First wish granted. Next up. Bath. At your service.”
    He pulled her into the bed chamber, which adjoined a palatial bath complete with an infinity fire and a sunken tub like the one she’d enjoyed on Renagoth Anh. The pale blue water was moving fast enough to create white caps and Lana almost moaned at the thought of tub jets gently manipulating the soreness out of her poor abused muscles.
    After saying something to the room in a language that Lana had come to think of as demonish, Brave reached down to test the moving water and smiled.
    “It’s perfect, Lana. You could use a relaxing water massage.”
    He left without a word.
    Lana looked down at the gurgling tub. The hint of steam wafting was like the beckoning