Kael’s chuckle was low. "Why not? The Witch can listen all she wants. Maybe she’ll learn something."
The words echoed in the shadowed alcove, bouncing off cracked marble and scorched velvet curtains. Carla stiffened, her cheeks burning crimson, while Lyra smirked like a cat that had just cornered a mouse.
"You’re insane," Carla muttered, but her voice was breathy, betraying more heat than protest.
"Insane?" Lyra purred, sliding closer until she straddled Kael’s lap fully, her thighs pressing against him. "No. He’s perfect."
Behind the veil of fire at the far end of the theater, the Witch’s eyes narrowed. Her flames trembled, flickering brighter for a heartbeat.
Kael’s hand slid higher along Lyra’s thigh, pushing the tattered edge of her skirt up inch by inch. He traced circles on her
