Page 158 of Boys Who Hunt

Me: Don’t even try.

Psycho: Getting jealous now?

My jaw drops at Silas’s arrogance.

Me: You wish.

Psycho: If you wanted me to yourself, all you had to do was ask.

Me: Stfu

Psycho: Ask. Nicely.

My fingers nearly break the phone.

Me: Just because we have a deal does not mean you get to tell me what to do and where to go.

Psycho: You didn’t just give me your body, thief, you gave me your soul for as long as I fucking want it in exchange for that money, and I intend to take fucking good care of it. Now come.

I groan and roll my eyes.

Silas fucking Rivera, taking care of my soul? That’s rich.

Still, I get up and walk up to Cora. She’s still sleeping, and I don’t want to be the one to wake her up. I grab my phone again.

Me: Cora’s still sleeping.

Psycho: Let her sleep, then.

Me: What if she’s hungry?

Psycho: The kitchen doesn’t close after an hour, twig. Come downstairs. Now. I won’t say it again.

Jesus, why is he so adamant?

I open the closet and grab whatever is in there. A white T-shirt and a pair of leggings that fit surprisingly well, along with some slippers. Perfect.

I head downstairs and look around, letting my nose guide me to breakfast. My mouth is already watering at the smell, but the second I find all the food out on the table in the back of the dining room, I’m frozen to the floor. There’s so much of it.The entire table is covered with fresh bread, fruits, cured meats, milk, expensive cereals, crispy bacon and eggs, rich coffee, all types of cheeses, and delicious-looking pancakes stacked up high with that amazing maple syrup on top.

Holy shit.

Silas is at the head of the table, staring me down.

“Sit.”

I grab one of the chairs and sit opposite of him.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

I nod. “It’s a … soft bed.”

“I’m happy.”

I frown. “Are you?”

He clenches the chair. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Do you even know what it feels like to be happy?”