THE NEXT HOUR was a whirlwind of what Mailah could only describe as "demonic hospitality."
While Lucson disappeared into the shadows of the suite to prepare whatever mysterious thing he had planned, Carson took charge of "Operation: Heartstring."
"Wear this," Carson commanded, tossing a garment bag onto the bed. "It's midnight blue. Matches the sapphire Grayson is currently pretending he doesn't care about. It's also made of silk that's been soaked in moon-lilies. To a demon's nose, it's basically an aphrodisiac disguised as a cocktail dress."
"Carson, this is ridiculous," Mailah called out from the bedroom, looking at the dress. It was stunning—a slip of silk that looked like liquid night, with a back so low it was borderline scandalous. "He hates me right now. He literally called me a 'pet.'"
