The night ended abruptly, shattered, really, by the loudest, most disconcerting music blaring from Falcon’s room. Kain tried to ignore it, but the absurdity of the sound hit him like a crashing wave. Then, with a sinking feeling, he realized the jazz singer’s voice sounded exactly like Falcon’s.

“Oh god…” He groaned, tortured. “Some people do not deserve a long life.”

His gaze drifted to the bed, softening. Lucy lay there, her silver hair spilling across the pillow like moonlight, making her seem less like a woman and more like a goddess who had lost her way to earth.

He almost leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead—but...