“Where the hell are you going to fit?” I ask on a tired breath, as Damien shrugs and starts slipping out of his own clothes. “Looks like she needs something to sleep on top of,” he notes. Arion moves in a blur before I can, and Damien curses, as the smirking vampire ends up under Violet like a full-body pillow. “Excellent suggestion,” Arion states, as Violet tucks her head under his chin. “I run cold, like her, so it makes more sense for it to be me she’s on.”
