Rayne let Nox go inside first while her cheeks flamed. The old Icarean King would’ve incited the sudden thrill in her pulse, but in this moment, she wondered if he knew the effect of his words. Biting her lip, she took a steadying breath and shored herself.

Living with Nox.

Nox and Rayne. Alone together in a hideout.

Sleeping, and dressing, and showering where Nox also did those things.

Right. She had this.

Rayne stepped inside the tree’s foundation and gaped. This was a marvel of nanite engineering and oozed with Wingmaster decor syndrome. The “treeloft,” as Razor referred to it, was a hollowed-out basin and smelled of fresh growth. Rayne stood in a living area with an L-shaped couch to the side, partnered with a little coffee table. All of it was laser cut by nanites from the natural wood with cushions piled on top. To her left was a wall with stairs mounted into it, also carved out of the tree.

In the corner ahead, Xelan had carved out a library and filled it with tabs and books. Rayne couldn’t wait to nestle in some of the cushioned chairs and geek out at whatever her guardian found interesting enough to store here. She rounded the corner to the left. This area was for dining. Tables and chairs, a bar—All in gray wood. Again, the wall was on her left. It climbed to the loft upstairs, and Rayne wondered what was up there.

Directly across from her was another corner and the kitchen. More tech was in here than anywhere else in the house, and yup—Stove and sink still worked. What a relief. There was even a small refrigeration unit and some root storage. Plenty of counter space, down the length of which Rayne spotted Nox.

He was standing in an open space with holes drilled into the floor and into the ceiling high above. It was the last area of the downstairs. Rayne asked, “What is it?” before wandering over to the far wall.

Nox frowned. “I’m uncertain, but I think—”

His face went completely flat when Rayne brushed her fingers on the far wall and activated the high-tech shower taps.

Incredulous, Nox glared, dripping wet.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Sorry!” She rushed to turn them off, but found the dryer instead.

Nox looked like he was in a music video with his arms folded and his hair billowing everywhere.

Rayne died with laughter, held her ribs and everything. “I promise I’m more sorry than I seem.” She finally found the off switch and blinked.

How did Nox look better than a few minutes ago? If Rayne had stood under the water and the dryer, her makeup would’ve run down her face, and her hair would’ve fallen flat, frizzed out.

But not Nox. He looked like the cover of a 90s romance novel.

This notion gave Rayne a case of the giggles, which stayed with her all the way around the corners.

Nox called after her, “What do you find so amusing?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Rayne said, climbing the stairs.

He followed, his footfalls heavier than hers, and the enormous Icarus was almost too broad for the staircase. When they arrived on the landing, they both stopped and peered into the loft.

This hideout was U-shaped, and the upstairs area took up the inside of the U.

With a bed.

That’s it. A bed and one wardrobe for storing clothes. Spanning the entire upstairs loft, the mattress was enormous. And singular. As in one.

“Dibs on the bed.” Rayne called it.

Nox humphed as she ran and jumped into it.

Sweet, heavenly softness, but the mattress was still firm enough to treat Rayne’s back right. She sighed, saying, “Finally, a real bed.” From up here, she peered around at the loft. All the furniture and finishes were black, gray, and white, with pops of color here and there. It made Rayne smile. “Good ol’ Wingmaster.”

Nox’s heavy boots on the steps drew her attention back to him. Rayne asked, “Will you be all right with the couch?”

He’d descended far enough to fold his arms on the loft floor and lean forward. Nox assured, “I’m accustomed to hunting for weeks with nothing. Not even a tent. If the ashen ground of Cinder was good enough, I’m sure the couch will suit me. I’m more concerned about the openness of the shower.”

Rayne’s eyes widened a little as she considered showering without cover of any kind. She’d gone communal with the rest of the Shadow in the Ionas, but… Nox was different.

He seemed to understand it, too. “I’ll fasten a sheet. One from this bed should span the kitchen and keep the spaces separate.” Without waiting for her to respond, he went through the drawers until he pulled out a sheet.

A fresh one.

Rayne climbed out of the bed, saying, “We should probably clean, anyway. I’m surprised there’s no dust.”

As he descended the stairs, Nox said, “Xelan automated a nanite cleaning schedule. Leave this one chore to me and settle in, your majesty.”

Rayne admitted, “This is my first time living with someone other than family. If you don’t count the couple of months with the Shadow after Invasion Day.” Climbing back into the bed, she moved to the upstairs banister to peer down at him.

After a second of consideration, Nox shrugged and confessed, “In a way, neither have I. I was alone or near my brothers.” He glanced up at her, and Rayne recognized the gravity which weighted his eyes when Nox sought something more meaningful from her. He asked, “Should we set some ground rules?”