*Kyros’ POV*

The three idiots filed into the main sitting area where I'd slept, seeming more awake and chipper than necessary. I wished a plague of locusts on the lot of them.

"Sleep well?" Atlas asked with a smug smirk.

"I want her out of my bed," I snapped immediately. Then, I groaned and covered my face with one of the soft pillows from the couch. It was too early to already be so cross.

Deimos helped himself to the wine on the table ...