Free Spellbound by Marcus Atley

silently followed Elion back to their hotel room. He didn’t say a word while the elf growled, whined and cussed. His tie hit the ground and his shoes hit the wall when he violently kicked them off. He, without question, looked like a teenager throwing a temper tantrum, but Stavros didn’t care so why should he?
    “I want a drink,” Elion huffed.
    “Do you even know what time it is?” Stavros asked pointedly.
    “Like that matters to you. You can either follow me downstairs or I can drag you out by your hair,” Elion stated, heading towards the door before Stavros could object.
    ~~
    “This is so not what I expected, ya know?” Elion slurred a short time later. His hands drunkenly gestured to the elaborate hotel bar they were sitting in. Stavros looked around nonchalantly, his half-empty cup pressed to his bottom lip as he shrugged. “I don’t really know what I expected, though. I know it wasn’t so much damn paperwork,” he sighed.
    Stavros gave an acknowledging grunt and finished his drink, gesturing to the bartender for another.
    “My mom was so proud when I told her I was brought on as a detective, as your partner.”
    “Why?” Stavros asked, genuinely curious as to why anyone would ever be proud of that.
    “Cus’ I kinda idolized you,” Elion said pointedly, as if Stavros should have known this information. “They talked about you in the academy all the time. You’re a legend, dude. Did you seriously eviscerate your roommate?”
    “What?” Stavros said blankly. “Did I- what the fuck, Elion?”
    Elion waved a hand dismissively and continued, “I don’t think you’re scary. You try, but it doesn’t work. Not on me.”
    Stavros’ brows crept up as he stared at the drunken elf. His eyelids were slightly drooped and his cheeks were pink from the alcohol. He could drink a lot more than he was given credit for, but unfortunately he happened to be one of the drunks that wouldn’t shut up, but that really wasn’t a surprise.
    “Why do you hate me so much?” Elion asked before tossing his head back and emptying his glass. Stavros wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it and with the way it made him frown, he wished he hadn’t. “Seriously, am I that bad?”
    The truth was simple. Stavros didn’t know why he hated the brat, or if he even did. He just hated everything about him. He hated how flawless his skin was. He hated how he always seemed to blush at the littlest things. He hated the way he chewed his bottom lip when he was thinking, and how it stayed slightly swollen and extra pink for hours after. He hated how his teeth wanted to sink into the patch of flesh at the base of Elion’s throat, and he really hated how his hands itched to feel the skin hidden under the brat’s clothing. He hated how Elion was stronger than he looked and could defend himself without hesitation. He hated how his eyes were so dark that it was unnerving, but made him want to look deeper, to see what secrets he could find hiding.
    “Stavros, what happened this morning?” Stavros was ripped from his thoughts with that simple question. “You were- I don’t know. What was that?”
    “I was feeding. I waited too long.” Stavros shrugged, grateful for the topic change.
    “It was a defense mechanism while you were out of your body?” Stavros nodded. “So, your father was an incubus?”
    “Didn’t you learn this shit in school?” Stavros drawled.
    “Somewhat.” Elion shrugged. “So what, you dream walk into someone’s sex dream when you’re hungry?” he asked bluntly. Stavros smirked.
    “Something like that, or I can just do it the old fashioned way.” Stavros didn’t miss the way Elion went red around the edges.
    “I think I drank too much,” he muttered, putting a hand on the bar to steady himself as he stood up. That had to be the reason that he felt faint and out of breath. It couldn’t have a single thing to do with the incredibly attractive man that pissed him off like no other. It wasn’t