Rhomiko and the Confirmed Bachelor (AMARANTHINE SAGA #7) by Forthright EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Forthright
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal / Sci-Fi
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.1 MB
- Price: Free
Wishes Come True
Hisoka opened his eyes and found Argent hovering at the side of the bed.
Nothing in the fox’s expression gave away how much he’d overheard, but
… probably everything. Argent would want to know about Hisoka’s past,
probably needed to know, but he wasn’t ready to face the kinds of questions
that would drag splinters of truth out of the wound in his heart.
Argent’s brows lifted, but all he said was, “I will bring food.”
And so the fox retreated, leaving Hisoka alone to face Nemi’s legacy.
Rhomiko stirred and opened eyes unlike … anything. Their irises might
have been carved from dull gray stone, without a hint of shine. The only
thing that spared them from lifelessness was the glitter of black pupils that
widened, then tightened down as they focused on him.
Recognition livened Rhomiko’s whole expression. The hand Hisoka had
been holding pulled free, and Rhomiko sat up. Blankets fell away, baring
pale skin freckled by innumerable tiny facets. Hisoka couldn’t say for
certain if these were reflecting the ambient light or if Nemi’s child had
inherited some of her shine.
Hisoka was already reaching for a bare shoulder to check, but maybe he
shouldn’t?
Rhomiko didn’t shy away from his claws. Indeed, Nemi’s child pivoted
toward him. Permission.
Warm skin felt ordinary enough. But visually, it was wholly unique.
Pretty.
Rhomiko bent nearer, and the hacked ends of long hair slipped forward,
framing a face with pronounced cheekbones. She … he … they looked
undernourished. Propping up on an elbow, Hisoka ran a cautious hand over
the jut of a shoulder, then gaunt ribs. Concerned, he mumbled, “You must
be starving.”
“Do you think so?”
“Argent is bringing food.”
Rhomiko traced one of Hisoka’s eyebrows with a fingertip. “Are you
hungry?”
“I can’t remember the last time I ate.”
“Will you teach me?”
“You don’t know how to eat?”
“I have never had the pleasure,” Rhomiko said, sounding as if he were
quoting someone. Nemi. Yes, the inflection was pure Nemi. “You will teach
me.”
Hisoka should have realized. Rhomiko had never been outside the
chrysalis that had also protected Nemi. A whole life spent in captivity,
safely kept in their mother’s arms, awaiting rescue. Awaiting him.
He asked, “Do you even need food?”
“I wonder. My father consumed sigils, and my mother took strength from
songs.”
Neither sounded particularly filling. “I know a moonbeam who likes
custard.”
“Teach me that, then.”
“I don’t know what Argent might bring.” There couldn’t be much to eat
aboard a windship.
“Neither do I,” said Rhomiko, sounding delighted that they had
something in common.
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