This was madness—sharing Sabine for an hour or two was one thing, but Jace was now a permanent client, complete with mate marks. In Bryn’s opinion, the only mate marks Sabine should wear were Bryn’s, and now they would both be branded the property of House Morningstar. The door was unlocked, and when they entered Bryn was surprised at the emptiness of the room. One would think that the second son of a ruling house could afford a few comforts, or have picked up mementos of his travels, but at least it was clean and fairly spacious. Jace sat on the edge of his bed—the comfortable, large mattress of a transport instead of the narrow bunk of a proper military ship—with the sheet draped over his lap. He rose once the door shut, and Sabine pounced on him, nearly knocking him back atop the mattress. Bryn swallowed the jealous growl that threatened to choke her and forced a laugh instead. Having been through the phase, she understood what needed to happen next.
