I’m halfway across the room when I hear his voice behind me. “I’m so glad you’ll never have to be in my place.”
“Me too.”
* * *
“Are you still seeing that stalker of yours, Nera?”
I sprawl on Zara’s bed and rest my head on my crossed arms. My sister and I have never kept things from each other, but when it comes to my demon, I don’t like volunteering information. Maybe because I don’t think she’d understand. Or maybe I’m just selfish.
“So?” she prods.
“We had dinner at my place two weeks ago.”
“Mm-hmm. That’s quite a development,” she mumbles around the pins held between her lips, then sends me a pointed look. “Considering you still don’t know the man’s name.”
I shrug. He’s my demon. I’m his cub. I don’t need his name.
“What did you make?”
“Ravioli with cheese.” I bite my lip. “I
