Typhon stood there, his hair mussed, his shirt undone to the middle like he’d just chucked it on in a mad scramble and damned if that wasn’t a tattoo peeking out, and . . . bare feet. Why was he barefoot? I blinked up at him, tried to find my voice because my emotions were pinging all over the place. “Morning.” “What the fuck is going on?” Liam shrugged. “We were having a private conversation.”
