Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“Why else would you willingly be alone with him?”
“I already told you why, so stop with this crap. I won’t pay for your pointless jealousy. I’ve given you no reason not to trust me.”
“Except that you were in a bedroom with another man.”
“Fully dressed. Arguing, because he’d called our son ‘unnatural’ and claimed that he wasn’t a sphinx. I’m assuming he said the same thing to you, since you don’t look surprised by that.”
“Yes, he did. But we’re not talking about Asher, we’re talking about you.”
Harper froze. There had been a brief flash of something in his eyes just then that made a tingling sensation creep up her neck and face. “You were always careful about what you said whenever I mentioned how relieved the Primes were that Asher was a sphinx. You never once referred to him as a sphinx. And whenever Jolene made jokes about how much trouble baby sphinxes were, you never said a word. Just smiled absently or changed the subject.”
Knox said nothing. Just casually tossed back the rest of his gin and tonic.
“You suspect that Asher might not be a sphinx, don’t you? You motherfucker, you do. And you said nothing.” Her demon bared her teeth in the same fury that bubbled through Harper’s veins. It lunged to the surface and glared at him. “You had no right to keep such a thing from us. It’s time you got off your high horse and stopped trying to make her hurt as you hurt. I will put you through a world of pain if you do not.”
If the entity glaring at him had lived within anyone other than his mate, Knox probably would have laughed. No one had ever taken him on and lived to tell the tale, but he would never retaliate against Harper or her demon; he’d never hurt them. In that sense, they had the upper hand. They wouldn’t even need to engage him in a fight—one touch would have him writhing in soul-deep agony. And while he didn’t believe Harper could stomach harming Knox any more than he could stomach harming her, he didn’t doubt that her fierce and protective inner demon would do whatever it took to shield or avenge Harper—even cause him pain.
As if satisfied that its warning had been heard loud and clear, the entity subsided. Then Harper was once again sneering at him. “You don’t even see anything wrong with the fact that you didn’t share this with me, do you?”
“We’re not done talking about Clarke.”
“Oh, we’re done with that,” Harper said, knowing he was stalling for time. “We’re totally done with it. Unless it’s more important to you than our son?”
He didn’t answer. He returned to the small bar and refilled his glass.
“How long, Knox? How long have you suspected Asher isn’t a sphinx?”
“A while. As you know, each demonic breed has an ‘air’ to it. A sort of psychic scent which makes it possible for people to sense what breed of demon they’re facing. That doesn’t mean that all hellhounds smell the same, of course. Similar, yes, but not the same because each person’s psychic scent is that little bit different. Yours is very subtle and elusive, so it’s not simple to ‘read’. It took me a good few minutes to detect that you were a sphinx.” Glass full once again, Knox turned to face her. “Like you, Asher has the air of a sphinx. Like yours, that air isn’t so easy to read.”
“Yeah, he takes after me that way. Lucian’s air is subtle too. I really don’t see where you’re going with this.”
Knox took a swig of his gin and tonic. “Maybe it’s because I’ve walked the Earth a very long time and so have a lot of experience at it, or maybe it’s just something that comes naturally to me, but I can read airs much better than most. I can pick a psychic scent apart and find each individual note.”
“Fascinating. But I still don’t see where this is going.”
“As your anchor, someone who’s psychically bound to you, I know your psychic scent better than anyone else ever could or ever will, Harper. I know every single delicate note to it. And, as Asher’s father and someone who’s touched his mind hundreds of times, I also know every note to his.” Knox took a step toward her. “There are no variations between yours and his. Not a single one. You don’t just have similar psychic scents; you have the exact same one.”
Harper’s breath caught in her throat. “That’s not possible. Maybe he’s able to mimic psychic scents. My cousin can do it. It’s not an uncommon ability, and it certainly doesn’t have to mean that Asher’s not a sphinx.”
“But does your cousin mimic one particular scent twenty-four/ seven? Is it something he even could do?”