This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places are either products of
the author’s imagination, or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental
Copyright © 2023 Leigh Miller
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any
manner without written permission of the copyright owner
ISBN: 9798369922774
Cover design by Leigh Miller
Cover photo by Irina Iriser, Pexels
authorleighmiller.com
Contents
Content Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Epilogue
Content Note
DEMON’S BRIDE contains adult content that may
not be suitable for all readers. For a full list of content
warnings, visit the author’s website.
To A - You love me better than anyone ever could. I
wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.
Chapter 1
Allie
The Goddess calls for her Tithe on a Friday night.
It’s inconvenient. I had plans to stay in tonight, catch up on some TV,
maybe get tipsy off the half-full box of wine in my fridge and make a sad
little charcuterie board out of whatever I could dig out of my pantry. An
exciting night, I know, but that’s just me. Living for thrills.
Instead, I’m standing outside in an unseasonably chilly May evening,
surrounded by three hundred other witches in an upstate New York wood.
Shivering against the stiff breeze through the trees, I'm reminded for the
hundredth time that I should’ve changed before the drive here. I’m still
wearing what I put on for work this morning: a knee-length, sleeveless purple
dress, flats, and a light cardigan. The outfit was perfectly fine during the
sunny afternoon, but is doing nothing now to keep out the cold. I’d be much
warmer in one of the thick woolen cloaks and petticoats my foremothers used
to wear when they practiced here.
The call about the Tithe came during my lunch break, and since coven
lands are a three-hour drive north from the little town of Beech Bay where I
live, I hadn’t had the time to swing by my apartment and change. Well, not
unless I wanted to slink in late and embarrass my mother.
Though, maybe that’s unavoidable at this point.
I shift uncomfortably in shoes meant for brunch and Target runs, not
traipsing through tangled woods, and really, really hope this doesn’t last
long. I’m not thrilled with the idea of nodding off on the long drive back
home. Or freezing my ass off out in this forest.
A ripple of movement and murmurs snakes through the crowd as the
coven leaders take to the worn wooden dais near the front, speaking among
themselves. Their faces are in shadow, but it’s easy enough to mark each
familiar witch by posture and aura of power alone.
Beyond the dais, the rest of us stand in near-darkness. It’s a new moon
tonight, and besides the stars the only other light comes from the torches
burning on the dais.
And from the faint glimmering of the Veil.
The night air is crisp and fresh, but as always with gatherings like this,
it’s tinged with a faint metallic edge. Magick, pure and potent, weaves its
way through the crowd. It’s not only from the witches, but seeping from the
Veil itself—one of thirteen portals spread across the globe that separate the
human world from the realms beyond.
It’s the reason we’re all here. Tonight, one of us will step through that
ethereal doorway and straight into the demon realm, bound by the Goddess to
marry a demon of Her choosing.
For now the Veil is quiet, the light within opalescent and shifting lazily.
When it’s time, we’ll all know.
Everyone is nervous. I don’t need to have any clairsentient abilities to
perceive it. Stooped shoulders, tight features, nervous fidgeting, the coven is
clearly on edge tonight and it’s not hard to understand why.
For the first time since… well, for the first time in any of our recorded
histories, a witch was sent back.
Emilia was the last Tithe bride, and the first one in my lifetime. It’s
usually a full generation between choosings—the witch selected is married
to her demon and spirited immediately away into their realm to live out her
days and uphold the bargain.
Emilia, however, came back.
Barely a year ago, she slipped through the Veil with her demon husband,
and two weeks ago she stumbled back out.
Emilia had thrummed with power when she went in. Hers was a magick
of manifestation and transformation, gifts reserved for the truly powerful.
When she was chosen last spring, it had hardly been a surprise. She’d met
her demon husband with courage and had been standing tall and proud when
the rest of us had retreated silently into the night to leave her to her fate.
Now, she’s a shell, hardly able to summon a glass of water or warm up
a cup of cold tea. It’s shocking to hear rumors of what she’s become—
painfully thin and drained almost completely of her power. Nobody knows
why, or at least nobody has told me why, but the demon realm seems to have
taken it from her.
There’s been no word from her demon husband, and Emilia won’t speak
of him. Rumor has it that she weeps when she’s asked, and mumbles to
herself about going back when she’s strong enough.
Whether she ever will be strong enough remains an open question.
Worse yet, it’s whispered that the magick which holds the Veil is
waning. No one will come right out and say it, but witch brides and their
magick are the single boon the demons exact to hold up their side of the
bargain. It keeps them in their realm and stops them from meddling with the
souls in ours. In return, our magick sustains their realm and maintains the
Veil.
How it works? I have no idea. All of it’s beyond me, truly.
Just because my mother, Esme Hawthorn, is this coven’s High Priestess,
that doesn’t make me privy to all the secrets coven leadership holds close.
It doesn’t make me privy to anything, actually, not with as powerless
and disappointing as I turned out to be.
Some witches in the coven, the strongest ones, are told. They’re
coached and prepared before each choosing. Emilia was part of that chosen
few, hand-selected and nurtured, all but guaranteed to be one of the witches
considered by the Goddess to become a demon’s bride.
It’s absolutely no surprise to me that I didn’t end up in that group.
Shaking off the thought, I glance at the surrounding crowd. Now isn’t the
time for self-pity. One of these women is about to be chosen, sent in to see if
they can succeed where Emilia failed.
Another whisper of wind ruffles the new leaves on the trees above us,
and somewhere in the distance the singing of frogs and crickets echoes
through the night like a chorus. It’s a peaceful evening, strained
circumstances aside, in a realm that one of them is about to leave behind for
good.
My eyes land on Josephine Delacroix with her deep brown skin and
incredible psychic gifts, on Marianne Barnes with her crown of ruby curls
and the unsettling ability to summon fire, on Sylvie Martinez whose blazing
amber eyes hint at the rumors about her ability to hex with devastating
precision.
Any of them are likely candidates. The witch who’s chosen is always
powerful. She’s always confident and fierce and has abilities strong enough
to renew the magick that flows between realms. It always happens on Tithe
night, always at the discretion of the Goddess and her whims.
No matter who’s chosen, I know one thing for certain: it won’t be me.
I could never hope to wield that kind of power.
Biting back a fresh wave of disappointment and shame, I try to focus.
It’s a lost cause. As much as I want to stay grounded in the present, my mind
starts to wander like it always does when I’m compelled to attend coven
functions.
I used to love the ceremony of it all, the magick and ritual. I used to
dream about standing on the dais behind my mother, ascending to the power
that should have been my birthright.
How quickly those dreams died.
Even as the witches around me shift and fidget, and even as part of me
does ache for Emilia’s fate and for whoever is selected to travel through the
Veil tonight, I feel completely removed from it. Standing away from the
crowd under the wide-spread leaves of an old oak, I let my mind wander to
my more pressing concerns, to Beech Bay Middle School and the narrowminded administrators who want to see the library budget cut.
School will be out for summer in a week, and I already miss my
students. I’m only a librarian, but without fail, there are a handful of students
each year that reach out and tug at my heartstrings. Blaine, with his love of
scifi and manga, who’s worked so hard to accommodate his dyslexia. Raina,
with her attachment to fae romances and Gothic horror, who’s finally
talkative again after her parents’ messy split last fall. Sav, who loves reading
about ancient Greece and Rome, and who comes to sit with me during lunch
because they don’t feel safe and comfortable in the cafeteria.
My mind is almost entirely occupied with worries for the kids who will
lose one of their safe spaces when the school year is over. Any bit of extra
mental space is tied up with irritation for the battle I’m going to have to wage
this summer over budget dollars and priorities, and how I can advocate for
those students and the ones who’ll come after to keep the resources they
need.
“A pleasant night for a Tithe,” says a light, wry voice from beside me.
Pulled back to the present, I look down and smile at the petite, ravenhaired woman who’s just come to stand beside me. Joan has about as much
chance of being chosen tonight as I do, and I’m thankful she’s here. It makes
me feel less alone.
“Who do you think it’ll be?” I ask, keeping my voice low. “Any chance
the demon realm needs some word magick?”
It’s the best way I can describe my meager gifts. The odd ability to
know things about a book by touching it, the ease with which I’ve always
been able to study languages. Once upon a time, I’d hoped the gifts would
turn out to be more powerful than they are. I thought I’d grow into them,
manifest the ability to know every word of a tome by touch alone, to translate
without effort or study. Now those gifts would have been useful.
Instead, my gifts are slight and inconsistent. I can lay my hand on a
book’s cover and know that its owner once pressed a lavender sprig between
its pages, or that it contains a particularly interesting passage about stewing
lacewing flies in chapter three, but sometimes I feel nothing at all. And
languages? I learn them well, but it’s still not without study.
“Maybe,” Joan says. “Or maybe they’re in desperate need of a good cup
of tea.”
I laugh quietly, drawing a reproachful glance from a nearby witch. I
fight back the urge to roll my eyes at her and instead turn back to my friend.
Joan’s gifts are as random and mundane as mine, but have at least turned
out to be lucrative. She runs a popular tea shop in Beech Bay and her blends,
while not intrinsically magickal, do wondrous things for the soul all the
same. She also reads tarot cards with no more than plain intuition that’s
somehow always what I need to hear, knits socks, and makes me teach her the
curse words in every new language I learn. I don’t know what I’d do without
her.
“By the way,” Joan continues, “I have a book for you. One of my
regulars brought it over, hoping you could have a look.”
“Oh? What kind of book?”
“Spells, I think. It looks like an old grimoire, but the language is—”
She doesn’t get to finish the thought, cut off by a wave of murmurs
running through the crowd.
Before us, the Veil pulses with a deep, red light. Somewhere within,
thunder cracks. The voices around us grow silent as every head in the crowd
turns toward the portal.
At the same time, a small fire lights near the center of my soul, and an
insistent, trembling energy pulses through my veins. It wells up within me
from the bottom of my belly, warm and stirring and restless. It pulls and
demands, and for a few moments it’s all I can do to hold myself from taking
an unconscious step closer to the Veil.
What is this? Is it part of the Tithe? This didn’t happen last time.
I sneak a glance at Joan, and though she’s also looking toward the Veil,
the calm, almost bored expression on her face hasn’t changed. She certainly
doesn’t seem to be fighting any insane urge to move, or to throw herself into
that glowing red light.
I take a few deep breaths to settle myself down.
It’s nothing more than magick, I have to remind myself, a sense of
unexpected discomfort settling over me as I stand and watch and wait for
some other witch to claim her place beside her demon.
Pushing those unwelcome feelings away, I reach down to clasp Joan’s
hand.
“Show time,” I mutter.
Chapter 2
Eren
I scent her before I see her.
Her essence is singular and unmistakable. A promise and a temptation
and the deepest dark desires of my soul all rolled up into one.
She’s mouthwatering, irresistible, and I haven’t even seen her yet.
Even so, I know she’s here. How could I not?
There, on the breeze, it’s the sharp smell of cloves and fresh parchment,
underpinned by a hint of rose. It’s familiar and comforting and makes my
heart ache in a way to which I’m not accustomed. The feel of it in my nose,
wending its way down deep into my lungs, is almost enough to make me
forget.
Be civilized. Be polite. Don’t scare the humans.
For as long as demons have dealt with witches, we’ve been careful.
We’ve hidden our natures and put on our best affectations of gentility. It
makes this all so much easier. If they don’t know we’re half-feral beasts
who’d sooner snarl our demands than formally present them, all the better.
Five minutes ago I’d considered myself more than capable of
pretending, putting on the facade, staying in control.
Now, that control is hanging by a perilous thread.
I thought I’d been prepared to come to the human realm, to find my wife
and bring her back home with me. The woman would seal the bargain, keep
both our realms safe and stable, and I was perfectly fine with the fact that I’d
been chosen to enter this union. My realm is suffering in the absence of a
Tithe bride, and I’d thought that’s why it had been me. To lead, to help them
all.
I’d even spoken to Sylas, the last demon who’d been called to marry a
witch, and despite his grief over losing Emilia, he’d given me a bare
understanding of what to expect. My call from the Goddess came two days
ago in the form of silver-glowing eyes, and I’d mentally prepared myself to
travel through the Veil, see a witch waiting for me with the same silver glow
around her, and exchange the vows that would bind us together. I’d felt
confident enough to do what I needed to with the authority and bravado
expected of the demon realm’s High King.
I just hadn’t expected this.
I hadn’t expected to find my mate.
But there’s no mistaking the instinct that comes alive in me when the her
scent fills my lungs. It’s a voice shouting from the deepest, most instinctual,
base recesses of my mind. It’s the need to claim her, fuck her, make her mine.
Goddess above, I need to get it together.
Stepping from the portal and into the human realm, I try to get my
bearings. There’s a crowd of witches gathered, faint torches burning on a
raised platform, and that haunting scent hanging heavy in the air. Still, the
journey through the portal has disoriented me, and I’m unable to place it. I
crane my neck, stretch some of the tension from my wings, and give my tail
an impatient whip, trying to expel some of the feral energy coursing through
me.
My gaze roams the assembled coven, searching for her. My bride. The
one the Great Goddess selected to stand beside me.
There’s beauty everywhere I look. They’ve always been so achingly
lovely, these humans, these witches. Hair in shades ranging from the lightest
wheat to as black as a raven’s wing. Skin from pale moonlight to rich, dark
brown. An array of ethereal beauty entirely unlike anything I’ve seen in my
realm. All of them are appealing, but none of them are her.
With the scent of her lingering in my nose, I am growing impatient.
One steps forward, a woman with streaks of gray in her long brown hair
and age lines on her face that speak to a wealth of life and experience.
“Greetings,” she says to me. “Welcome to the human realm.”
I nod absently, still searching the crowd for the one I seek.
“My name is Esme Hawthorn, High Priestess of this coven. How may I
address you?”
“Eren Ashblood. High King of the demon realm.”
“M-majesty,” she stutters, and what little color her skin possesses
leeches from her face.
I ignore her obvious impress at my title. “Has the Goddess selected a
bride for me?”
“Not yet, your majesty,” Esme Hawthorn says, regaining some of her
composure. “That usually doesn’t happen until the demon representative
comes through the veil.”
I’m agitated, restless, searching. The Goddess hasn’t shown her to me
yet, but still I know she’s here.
Where is she?
“Well,” I say, unable to keep the edge of irritation from my voice. “I’m
here.”
Esme raises a hand and motions toward the crowd. A handful of women
step forward. They all vary in appearance, but one thing about them is
consistent.
Magick—pure, powerful magick—rolls off them all in waves.
I study each in turn, waiting for one to show signs she’s my bride. My
soul, however, remains mute to them all, still aching and reaching
desperately for the one I can’t find.
“None of them are her,” I say to Esme. “Why are they called forward?”
Her brow furrows, and she waves them away. “They are some of the
strongest witches in our coven,” she says as the women melt back into the
crowd. “It must be another. We shouldn’t have too long to wait.”
Scarcely have Esme’s words left her when the wind shifts, washing me
anew in my mate’s scent.
It’s then that I see her.
How could I have missed her before? Wreathed in pale white starlight
and the flickering glow of the torches, she stands apart from most of the rest,
beneath the canopy of a great, gnarled oak.
My mate. My bride. The one the Goddess has sent me.
Her body is a tapestry of lush, rounded curves and enticing hollows.
Full and tempting, looking at her is almost more than I can bear. Worried that
I’ll get too lost in fantasies of what I’d like to do to that decadent body, I
concentrate instead on her face, and immediately find myself even more
adrift. Dark mahogany hair, bright green eyes, freckled pale skin that grows
flushed under my perusal, and a heart-shaped face scrunched up with some
all-too-human emotion I can’t name.
She’s beautiful. Perfect. And mine.
“Allie.”
Esme Hawthorn sounds aghast, but I don’t pause for even a moment to
consider why. There’s nothing, nothing but her, nothing but Allie and my soul-
deep need to go to her.
The crowd parts in front of me, and I make my way to my bride.
As I approach, the telltale glow seeps from her irises outward,
spreading from her eyes, across her face and further still, until her entire
body is glowing faintly. She’s a beacon, drawing me nearer with each
passing moment.
“Hello, my queen,” I say to her when we’re mere feet apart, and watch
as a full-body shudder moves through her.
Fear? Is that what she’s feeling? Her scent grows different somehow,
the crisp familiarity of it turning sharper and almost sweet with emotion.
It’s not unpleasant to me, her fear, but it’s also not something I want her
to be feeling, not right now at least. The sweetness of her fear is the first
thing to check me, the first inkling that all may not be right with my bride.
Esme is quick to join us, stepping between Allie and me with her face
clouded in concern.
“Your majesty, this is my daughter. Allison Hawthorn. Allie, as we call
her.”
Ah. She must be a powerful witch in her own right if she’s the daughter
of this coven’s High Priestess.
Why was she not called forward with the others?
All around, the scent of witchmagick hangs heavy. I can pick out
hundreds of threads of it in varying scents of copper, sulfur, and iron. If I
concentrate, I can follow each one back to the witch it comes from, and I
quickly try to sort through them all to find the one I’m looking for.
Only my bride, my Allie, doesn’t seem to exude any power at all.
An icy dread starts to unfurl in the bottom of my stomach.
Chapter 3
Allie
Bad. This is very, very bad.
It’s the only thought my scrambled brain can hold onto as the world
crashes down around me.
Joan’s hand goes clammy in mine, and I can sense the almost-palpable
worry coming from my mother, but I can’t look anywhere but at the demon in
front of me.
Eren—King Eren Ashblood—is a towering, muscled male with deeply
tan skin, thick dark hair, wickedly curled horns that spiral back from his
temples over the top of his head, and midnight black wings spreading out
from his wide back. He shifts slightly, and I get the faintest glimpse of a tail.
Goddess help me.
Eren is also half-clothed. He’s wearing nothing more than a pair of
pants made of some kind of black leather. That’s it. He’s not even wearing
shoes, for pete’s sake. I can’t stop my eyes from darting over his wide, bare
chest, over abs that would make an Abercrombie model rethink how many
sit-ups they need to do each day, and to the sculpted vee pointing straight
down into those leather pants.
It’s his face, though, that’s got me more screwed up than anything.
What right does a demon have to be this handsome?
High cheekbones, a prominent brow and sharp jawline. Ruby-colored
eyes lit from the inside out with molten fire. And lips that simply can’t be as
soft and full as they look.
The tips of my fingers ache and I fight back the urge to reach up and find
out.
Just like it did when the Veil first pulsed red, the same warm, racing
energy rises in my blood. It’s like a living thing, this magick. It ebbs and
flows with the beating of my heart, following the paths of my veins from the
center of my chest outwards, like taking a draw of smooth whiskey and
feeling its burn.
Eren is staring down at me, eyes focused and keen, like he could mark
every bit of that heat blooming under my skin.
He’s frowning, and I realize I may be expected to say something.
There’s a protocol for this, I know, though I’ve never learned it.
I’ve never had a reason to.
Now, I look at Eren, shame and stress burning high on my cheeks. “I
don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
I reach up and nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and pause
when I see my hand out of the corner of my eye. I’m glowing. As if this night
could be any weirder.
It’s my mother who speaks next. “The Goddess has selected,” she says,
projecting her voice out to the rest of the coven. “You may go.”
Faces reflect a range of emotions back at me as the women leave. Pity,
disappointment, worry, even a pang of envy here and there.
I watch them all drift slowly into the night. My coven—my sisters, for
all intents and purposes. While I can’t say there’s ever been anything simple
or easy about my place among them, a deep sorrow fills my chest as I watch
them go.
Is this really happening? With each passing moment, it sinks further and
further into my mind that it’s real, that life as I know it is shifting and settling
into some new configuration of fate, and that there’s nothing I can do to stop
it. When I catch a brief glimpse of some of the chosen few, it hits me even
harder. All of them were prepared for this. Any of them would face this
moment with courage, but hell if I’m able to do the same. Maybe if I’d had a
little time, or had any reason at all to expect it would be me… but no, even
then I think I’d still be a trembling puddle of nerves, completely unprepared
for this.
Joan is the last to leave me, having held my hand the entire time. Our
eyes meet, and the devastation in her expression makes my knees buckle.
“Allie…” she says, voice choked with tears. “How did this…what are
you…why?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper in reply.
Seeing the fear in my face, she masks some of her own emotion in the
way we always do for each other. Since we were young, it’s been this way.
Two mediocre witches together against the world.
“I love you, Allie. You’ll get through this. You’re stronger than you
know.”
I pull her into my arms, hugging her tightly. “Love you too, Jo.”
A sudden stab of anger hits me. The women singled out for their gifts at
least had time to prepare. Hugging Joan and wondering how I’m ever going
to let her go, I wish bitterly that I’d gotten the same chance to consider the
possibility, to have the time for a few more goodbyes.
When we part, my anger is echoed in her eyes, which are bright with
tears.
“I’ll find out if there’s anything that can be done,” she says with a quiet
fierceness.
Slowly, I shake my head.
This ritual, more than almost any other we practice, is sacred. A
command from the Goddess herself. No matter what might wait for me on the
other side of the Veil, it can’t be undone. Not by anyone.
Unless I wither and weaken like Emilia did and have to be sent back.
No. Not helping.
“It’ll be ok,” I tell Joan, swallowing the fear. “I’ll be ok.”
Though she looks like she wants to argue, say more, she gives me one
more brief hug before she turns to go. I swear I can feel my heart breaking in
my chest. Will this be the last time I see my best friend?
As the last of the crowd disappears into the dark forest, it’s just my
mother, Eren and myself standing there.
“Aren’t you leaving, too?” I ask her, well aware that whatever ritual
takes place after the choosing is between demon and bride alone.
Not that I have any idea what it actually entails.
My mother must be aware of that fact too, looking nervously between
Eren and me. “I… I know this isn’t… what was expected.”
Eren’s frown deepens. “Why? Why was it not expected?”
My mother is completely at a loss for how to answer, and the demon
seems to grow more impatient by the second.
All of it feels like a ton of bricks bearing down on me. Isn’t it obvious?
With each passing, silent second, the implications of it all begin to
choke me. The Veil. The bargain. The fate of the souls in this realm all
resting on our ability to hold up our side of the deal and keep the demon
realm supplied with magick.
All resting on me.
My breath comes in quick, shallow gasps as panic creeps in, and still
my mother doesn’t answer. Maybe she can’t. Maybe the shame of having a
powerless daughter—a daughter who’s now apparently bound to see this
critical piece of protection between our realm and the next destroyed
because of my shortcomings—has rendered her mute.
Unable to take a moment of terrible silence more, I speak up.
“Because I’m not powerful enough,” I say, meeting Eren’s crimson gaze.
“I was never supposed to be chosen.”
Chapter 4
Eren
“Because I’m not powerful enough. I was never supposed to be chosen.”
Oh, but there’s power in my little witch’s voice.
Allie looks me full in the face with a courage I suspect costs her greatly.
The scent of her fear persists, and she’s trembling slightly, even as she
tightens one hand into a fist and tries to maintain control.
“There was never a reason for me to learn,” Allie continues, speaking
more to herself now. “This must have been a mistake.”
No. No mistake. The Goddess has not chosen false.
Allison Hawthorn is mine, despite her disconcerting lack of power.
I couldn’t taste it before with so many other strands of magick around
us, but now I’m easily able to sift past her mother’s steady iron pulse and
find Allie’s spark.
Petrichor. Clean and heady, it’s a complement to her natural scent—
minus the lingering fear—like raindrops on rose petals, a book read near an
open window during a soft summer rain.
Delicious.
“Leave us,” I tell Allie’s mother, eyes never straying from my mate’s
face. “Your assistance is no longer needed here.”
“But—”
I hold up one hand to silence her. It’s not my finest moment, I’m well
aware, but with Allie’s hushed admissions and her own fragile thread of
magick, the situation becomes clear. That Esme Hawthorn left her own
daughter ignorant and vulnerable because she underestimated Allie’s power?
I feel no need to extend even an ounce more courtesy to this woman.
“Allie,” Esme breathes. “Darling.”
Allie tenses and I’m almost ready to growl another warning, but my
mate speaks first.
“It’s alright,” Allie says, voice barely audible over the night breeze
through the forest. “There’s nothing that can be done about it now.”
She speaks true. There’s nothing to be done but go forward with it,
though the confirmation my quaking bride knows nothing of what is expected
from her in the demon realm, nothing of what waits for her this night, makes
me feel ill.
“I’m sorry,” Esme says to her daughter, and I do feel a sliver of
sympathy at the sorrow in the woman’s voice. A small sliver.
Allie reaches forward and pulls her mother into an embrace, and there
are tears streaked down the older woman’s face when they part. Allie
reaches up to wipe them away.
“Love you, mom,” she whispers.
“I love you too, Allison.”
Esme doesn’t let go right away. No, she smooths both her hands over
her daughter’s hair, squeezes her shoulders, spends long moments looking at
her like she’s memorizing every detail of her face.
“Be strong,” she tells Allie. “And if you feel yourself waning, come
back through the Veil. We’ll be here to help you.”
The comment raises my hackles. Already she’s assuming Allie will fail?
Leaving her with this dire warning when she’s already so clearly afraid?
A warning growl rises low in my throat, drawing the startled attention
of both women.
Esme squares her shoulders and looks at me with all the haughty scorn
due to her in her position as High Priestess. “Take care of her,” she says in a
voice like ice. “Protect her.”
“It’s an insult that you think I would do anything less.”
Still, she doesn’t back down, doesn’t show a moment of weakness as
she gives her daughter one last hug and murmurs something low in her ear
that I can’t quite make out. With that, Esme Hawthorn turns slowly away,
looking back once over her shoulder before she disappears through the tree
line.
And then I’m finally alone with my bride.
Allie’s shaking grows more pronounced, enough so that despite
clenching both her fists and biting her teeth together, there’s nothing she can
do to stop the tremors that roll through her.
Is she cold? I take in the outfit she has on, noticing it clearly for the first
time. She’s wearing a lavender dress printed with pale cream flowers that
falls to her knee, and some kind of light, pale sweater on top of it that doesn’t
seem like nearly enough protection for one fragile human on a chilly night
like tonight.
No, I make myself realize, not cold. Not with the scent of her fear still
wafting up between us. I’d prefer if she were cold, I could do something
about that. This? This fear of hers? I don’t know how to even begin to
assuage it.
“Breathe, Allison,” I tell her.
I want to touch her, to reach out and comfort her, but I somehow suspect
that would only make it worse.
“Allie,” she says. “You can call me Allie.”
“Allie,” I echo, liking the way her name feels on my lips. “Everything
will be fine.”
She laughs, the sound more than a little unhinged. “Sure. Sure it will
be.”
We both fall silent. The only sounds between us are the wind through the
trees and the faint call of spring creatures in the night. Well, that, and the
raspy sound of Allie’s panicked breathing.
Though we come from different realms, the gulf between us is wider
than I ever could have expected. My heart drops as I take in Allie’s strained
expression, the way she holds her shoulders near her ears, the tremors that
continue to rock her, the lingering sweet smell of her fear.
“My middle name is Dane,” I tell her.
The absolute perplexity on her face is sharp enough to cut through her
fear, and almost enough to draw a laugh from me. “What?”
“My middle name,” I say again, “is Dane. Eren Dane Ashblood. I
thought knowing something more about me might help.”
Allie looks at me for a long time, like she’s judging how sane I am.
When she finally shakes her head a little to clear away whatever she’s
thinking, and answers, I’m not sure whether my heart’s still beating.
“Eren Dane Ashblood,” she repeats, and I try to ignore the little thrill in
the bottom of my stomach at hearing my name on her lips. “My middle name
is Amethyst.”
“Allison Amethyst Hawthorn,” I say, letting myself linger on each
decadent syllable. “A beautiful name. It suits you.”
A tremulous smile sets upon her lips at that.
“I’m twenty-six years old,” she volunteers.
“I’m eighty-seven.”
Her eyes practically bug out of her face. “That’s… old. How long do
demons live?”
“We live to be anywhere between three and four hundred years. Your
lifespan will adjust to match mine once we’re wed.”
“That’s… wow. I didn’t expect… I mean, I didn’t think I’d be
quadrupling my lifespan out of this deal.”
Something sharp and black touches my heart. Even at a hundred, one
amongst the demonkind is only just coming into their prime. I’d known these
humans lived far shorter lives, but the idea that Allie would have died so
young if I hadn’t been sent to claim her puts a spiral of dread into my soul.
“What else can I expect once we’re married?” she asks.
Discontent flares in me again, realizing how ill-equipped my bride is
for life in my realm. Knowing it’s not her fault, I try to push my emotions
aside as I answer.
“When you wed me, you’ll be consort to the king of the demon realm.
You’ll—”
“Not queen?”
I chuckle at the boldness, the sass. “Would you like to be queen?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably not. I have no experience ruling
over anyone other than unruly preteens.” At my look of confusion, she
clarifies. “I work in a school. The kids I watch over are twelve to fourteen
years old.”
“Ah,” I say, understanding. “Young ones. So you’re used to dealing with
belligerence and stubbornness. You’ll do well amongst my people.”
Allie's smile widens, and my soul brightens in response.
“What’s your favorite food?” she asks me.
You are, my mind immediately supplies. I haven’t tasted her yet, but I
already know it to be true.
“There’s a cobbler my mother used to make,” I say instead, “With
blackberries and fresh cream on top. That’s my favorite food.”
A look of delight crosses her face. “You have blackberries in your
realm?”
I nod. “There are many more similarities than you might think.”
Allie considers that for a moment. “Eren Dane Ashblood. Eighty-sevenyear-old King of the demon realm and lover of blackberry cobbler.” She
laughs at her own words. “Never in my life did I think this is where I’d end
up.”
In that moment, I dare.
I step forward and reach one hand out to grasp her cool fingers in mine.
Holding her hand lightly, I bring those fingers to my lips and press a gentle
kiss against them.
“Know that this is where you were always meant to be, Allie.”
She raises her eyes to mine, and there’s something mournful there,
something broken. I hardly have time to examine it before she looks away,
glancing at the empty woods around us.
“So,” she says finally. “Everything will be alright?”
“It will,” I assure her, dropping my voice low. “I am sorry this was
sprung on you so unexpectedly, but know that nothing will hurt you. Not
tonight, and not where we’re going. I promise you this.”
Allie takes a long look at me, eyes sliding along my frame, and I stand
stock-still under her inspection. When she meets my gaze again, there’s still a
question there, but also something that seems more settled on her fate.
“Well,” she says. “Should we?”
She gestures toward the Veil, and I shake my head gently. “There is
ritual to be completed before we go.”
Allie lets out a long breath. “You’re going to have to walk me through
it.”
Her shaking has lessened, and there’s a fragile determination set upon
her face. My little witch is not so easily beat.
The next few moments will set us down a path that will last the rest of
our lives, if all goes well. I try not to despair at the great unknown in the
thought. It’s all become so much more complicated given her relative lack of
magick, her obvious fear, and the fact she knows nothing about her new
station in life.
Yet there’s still something of fate in the air.
Allie’s skin holds the barest remnants of the Goddess magick that drew
us together, and she shimmers like a star burning faintly at twilight—a
promise of radiance to come.
Without thought, with no ability to stop myself, I reach a hand up and
cup her cheek for a moment, if only to feel that magick for myself.
Allie does not flinch from my touch. Her eyes widen, and I feel her
trembling cease. As if eased by the gentleness of the caress, the last cloying
ribbon of her fear fades away and her lovely scent rises once more.
With no one but the night sky and the Goddess to witness, I marry my
witch.
“Allison Amethyst Hawthorn,” I say, taking both her hands in mine. “do
you accept your place as my wife and consort? Will you come with me and
stand beside me in the demon realm?”
“Yes, Eren Dane Ashblood,” she says, voice steady. “I do. And I will.”
“Good,” I say. “I’m glad to hear it. And as you don’t know the promises
to ask of me, I will give you my vow to care for and protect you, to shelter
you in my home and honor the magick you bring with you to my realm.”
Her face falls a little at that last bit, but I press on, undeterred.
“Do you accept these vows?”
“Yes, I do.”
“A kiss, then. To seal our bargain.”
I almost think she’ll balk. And indeed, my bride’s eyes widen even
further and a slight tremor runs through her. Her eyes drop to my mouth, and I
can’t help but stare at hers in return. Full, plush, and pink, the sight of her lips
makes my fangs lengthen. At her sharply indrawn breath, I want to kick
myself, belatedly realizing they’ve poked out from my upper lip.
“Fangs?” she whispers.
“I won’t bite you, Allie.”
Yet.
Giving herself a small shake, she regains her composure. “Okay. Uh,
you might have to lean down.”
I bite back a grin. My Allie is tall for a human woman, but she still
barely reaches the height of my shoulder. I take a step closer to her and dare
to settle my hands on her lushly curved hips. When she leans into my touch, I
feel my cock harden beneath my trousers.
I am going to die this night. Surely, the amount of caution and control I’ll
need to exert to get us both through this is going to kill me.
Still, there’s no force in this realm or the next that could stop me from
bending down over my little witch—my mate, my wife—and tilting her chin
up toward me.
At the first brush of her sweet mouth on my own, I know my soul is well
and truly lost.
Chapter 5
Allie
I’m kissing a demon.
Not just kissing, but full on making out, because a moment after our lips
meet, it’s like I’ve been consumed. Whatever this demon magick is, I don’t
have a spare brain cell to guess at it. No, every last thought in my head leaks
out my ears and all I know is Eren.
His lips feel even more sinful than they looked. Warm and firm, they
take command of the kiss immediately, even as his hands tighten on my hips
and a low growl rumbles through him. When his tongue presses against my
mouth, demanding entrance, I open for him without a moment of hesitation.
Eren tastes like pure sex, with a scent like rich pine, wisps of smoke,
and some dark spice I have no name for. Whatever it is, it lights me up from
the inside out and I’m half-convinced that when we pull apart my skin will be
glowing again.
One of his hands moves to the back of my head. He takes a handful of
my hair in his fist and tugs, deepening the kiss with long, slow strokes of his
tongue that echo straight down between my thighs.
My eyes are closed, but I crack them open a sliver when I feel the
lowering of a solid weight around us, blocking out the wind and the cold.
His wings.
Spread wide and sheltering us both, they create a pocket of darkness
where only he and I exist.
Crushed to him and drifting softly into the place of peace and safety
Eren created, I return the kiss with every bit as much passion as him. Daring
a little more, I run my tongue along one of those savage-looking fangs, earlier
fear all but forgotten.
“Allie,” Eren groans, pulling back and drawing his wings away.
The distance brings crashing clarity with it.
Holy shit. What just happened?
Face burning, trembles returning, I take a step away from my demon
husband.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I don’t know what… I’m just… sorry. If I did
something wrong, I’m sorry.”
Maybe the fang thing is taboo? Oh fuck, maybe he thought that was me
giving him an invitation to bite me. Maybe that’s why he stopped.
Which is a good thing, I guess.
Wait, I guess?
Do I want to be bitten?
Now that I’m not lip-locked with a demon, my brain says hell no. All I
need to do is get my racing heart and the tight throbbing in my pussy to catch
up.
Eren laughs, though there’s something strained about the sound. “You’ve
done nothing wrong, little witch.”
Little witch. The endearment is not helping the whole throbbing
situation.
“Then why—”
“You’re a temptation for me,” he says gruffly. “Too much a temptation. I
want to take this night slowly. I don’t want to frighten you.”
“Do I seem frightened?” I don’t mean for the question to come out as a
challenge, but it does, the words hovering like an incendiary device in the air
between us.
Eren’s ruby eyes darken to garnet. “No. It’s not fear I smell on you
now.”
Well, that’s not what I was expecting. “Smell on me? What do you
mean?”
He leans down, runs his nose along the sensitive place where my neck
and shoulder meet.
“Rose petals.” The words are a whisper against my skin. “And
parchment. The sweet smell of summer rain. And something else, too.”
“Something else?”
The tip of one sharp fang grazes lightly along my earlobe. “Yes, Allie,
something else. I smell your desire.”
Oh, fuck. So I’m apparently as transparent as an open book to my new
husband.
“I can’t help it.”
“I don’t want you to help it,” he growls. “I want you to revel in it.”
To emphasize his point, he drags that same teasing fang up my jawline
before claiming my lips again in a warm, soft kiss. The press of his mouth on
mine is slow and deliberate—hunger leashed, fire banked. Even his hands
behave, running slow caresses up and down my arms.
It’s a tentative kiss, a polite kiss, and I wonder if he means to soothe me
with it.
I should be happy with that. Really, I should appreciate the slow roll
into wherever this night is heading.
Instead, I feel a pointed frustration at the bottom of my belly.
For some reason I don’t quite understand, I don’t want him on this leash.
I want the flames between us to burn away all the lingering remnants of anger
and grief, everything keeping me tied to my own realm.
Everything that’s already passed between us—the pure, unadulterated
heat and want shining in his eyes when he spotted me in the crowd, the
undeniable pull of magick when we exchanged our vows, the sinful taste of
his kiss—is pulling me further in. With each passing moment that pull grows
stronger, and even with all the reasons I should have to resist it, I’m
beginning to wonder what would happen if I didn’t.
Is it pure recklessness? Maybe. Will I come to regret it? I have no idea.
Some part of me, though, doesn’t care in the slightest. Some part of me wants
to dare, to let go. Whether it’s instinct or magick or whatever strange twist of
fate has tied us together, that part of me wants to give into the dark pulse of
power building between us.
Just as I’m heating back up, though, he breaks the kiss again. Resting his
forehead on mine, he lets out a long breath.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He pauses, pulls away a few inches, and looks down into my face. “The
next part of this evening needs to happen back in my realm.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. “And what does this… next part all entail?”
For just a moment, those ruby fires in his eyes are an inferno. It’s one he
quickly dampers as he looks away from me, back toward the Veil.
“We’ll travel back through the portal.”
“Yup,” I say, trying not to sound impatient. “I guessed as much.”
“And then…”
“Eren,” I say flatly.
He tears his eye from the shifting light of the Veil and looks down at me.
“Allie.”
“I’m not innocent enough not to know what happens after a wedding,” I
tell him. “If you’re taking me back to your realm to consummate the marriage,
you can just say so. It’s alright.”
It seems I’ve shocked my demon husband.
“It’s not—I mean—there’s more to it than—”
I reach out and take his hand. “Do I need to know anything about going
through the portal?”
In any other situation, I’d laugh out loud at the look of absolute
confusion on his face. And fine, maybe it’s not his fault. Fifteen minutes ago I
was shaking in my metaphorical boots, terrified of everything about to
happen and now I’m… what? Ready to jump this demon king’s bones? I
hardly understand it, I guess I can’t expect him to.
“You might get a little disoriented,” he says, still staring at me like he’s
not altogether sure of my mental stability.
“Okay,” I tell him, making a move to step toward the Veil.
“Allie,” he says, something hesitant in his voice. “We don’t have to go
just yet, if you’re not ready.”
I consider that. “I won’t be any more ready in an hour, or in two. And
even though I don’t know a lot about what’s going to happen, I do know that it
has to happen tonight, right?”
He nods.
“Okay,” I tell him. “So let’s go.”
That same recklessness is spurring me on, only this time I’m aware it’s
in defiance of the good sense that should make me listen to his hesitation. I’m
trying to ignore it, trying to press on despite it, but my new husband isn’t
going to let it go so easily.
Eren curls a hand around my cheek, the tips of his claws just grazing
against my jawline. “You don’t fear what comes next?”
His question draws me up short.
Do I fear him? No, I don’t think I do. I’m still pretty sure it’s going to
take me some time to get used to the sheer physical presence of him, but he’s
given me every sign that he won’t hurt me.
And the darker part of me? The darker part of me is already humming
with sensual anticipation of what my demon will do to me when we walk
into his world.
Do I fear what waits for me in the demon realm? Aside from Eren, yes, I
absolutely do. I fear my magick won’t be enough to stop whatever’s
happening with the bargain and the Veil. I fear I’ll be a disappointment not
only to my mother and my entire coven, but to both our realms. I don’t
understand why I was chosen, and whether I can ever hope to be enough.
But all of that’s still abstract, remote, and I refuse to let myself focus on
it. The Goddess brought us together for a reason, and I have to at least trust
enough to see it through.
“I don’t fear you, Eren.”
A tender stroke of his hand against my face. “What do you fear, Allie?”
“I’ll tell you some other time,” I say, reaching up to echo his touch as I
lay a hand against his cheek. “Let’s not worry about it right now.”
This is insanity. All of it.
An hour ago, I was counting down the minutes until I could flee back to
my average, everyday life. Now? Now I’m ready to walk hand in hand with a
demon king to the realm that will be my new home. I trust this demon king to
see to my welfare. I’m attracted—impossibly, undeniably attracted—to this
male and ready to know exactly how a demon claims his witch.
“Alright,” Eren says, seeming to settle into his decision as we both pull
reluctantly away. “Alright. But you’ll let me lead you through.”
“Lead the way, your majesty.”
His lips quirk up at the honorific. “Your majesty?”
“Is that not the right term?”
“I prefer Sir.”
Damn, this demon already knows how to push my buttons.
“Hmmm,” I murmur. “I’ll consider it.”
Eren rounds on me, a delicious spark in his eye. “As High King of the
demon realm, there are many things I could do to compel your compliance.”
“Such as?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
The dark sexual promise in his smile is an almost-tangible thing. Eren
brings one hand to my lower back, the other to the base of my skull, winding
into my hair. When he applies pressure to both, tugging me to him until every
inch of my body is pressed against his, that smile deepens to something sinful
and wicked. His wings flex and spread behind him, unfurling toward the sky
in an unmistakable reminder of just how inhuman he is.
“I could tie you up,” he whispers against my jaw, one fang pressing
lightly where my pulse races beneath my skin. “I could bring you right to the
edge, again and again, until you were crying and begging for release. I could
hold your pleasure in the palm of my hand until I had you pliant and willing
to do absolutely anything for it. Yes, then I think you’d have no problem
calling me Sir.”
The fact that I’m not a melted puddle on the floor is incomprehensible.
Eren, not one to sacrifice his advantage, pushes harder. “Would you like
that, little witch? Would you like me controlling your pleasure, telling you
exactly when you get to come?”
“I think we should head through that portal.” My words are choked,
desperate, and draw a satisfied chuckle from him.
“Of course, your majesty, whatever you like.”
And just like that, I’m reminded again exactly who and what I married.
What that marriage now makes me. It’s enough to settle me down a little as
we step closer to the Veil, and the sight of that shimmering, cloudy magick
within is even more reason to keep it in my pants.
Well, at least until we’re in the demon realm, and right now there’s a
swirling, fathomless void between here and there.
Since there’s nothing I can do but go forward with it, I swallow roughly
and take his hand once more. “I’m ready.”
Despite the lingering heat between us, the words betray a small edge of
uncertainty. And, as I’m learning about my husband’s perceptiveness, it
doesn’t get by him.
Instead of commenting, he squeezes my fingers in his own and smiles
down at me, every hint of earlier sensuality traded in for steady comfort.
“I’m going to lift you into my arms.”
I nod, and he moves, hefting me up against him. My legs clamp around
his waist, my arms around his neck, careful of where his wings connect to his
powerful shoulders.
His arms settle around me like iron bands. “When we step in, it’s going
to be… intense. I want you to hold on to me tightly. If you feel yourself
slipping, let me know.”
“What happens if I fall?”
“You won’t fall,” he promises with absolute certainty.
“What if—”
“Nothing will happen to you, Allie.”
I’d been staring over his shoulders into the shifting light of the Veil, but
at his serious tone I draw my attention back to him. Eren holds my gaze with
a soul-deep steadfastness that makes the backs of my eyes prick.
“Do you trust me?”
I nod, suddenly out of words, as a fresh wave of nerves hits me.
“Tell me, Allie,” he commands. “Tell me you trust me.”
“I trust you, Eren,” I whisper, and lean forward to catch his mouth in a
gentle kiss.
It’s so different from the two we’ve shared before. Eren lets his lips
relax, lets them mold to mine, and when his tongue presses forward to dance
with my own, it’s a gentle reassurance rather than a provocation.
“Allison Amethyst Ashblood,” Eren breathes, pulling back slightly. “I
promise to see you safely to my realm.”
Some dim part of me chafes against the fact that I never told him I’d take
his last name, but it’s a quiet voice, drown out completely by the thrill of his
claim and the trust I now place in him.
“Let’s go, then,” I whisper, and it’s all the encouragement he needs.
Chapter 6
Eren
Allison Amethyst Ashblood is a revelation.
Warm and trusting in my arms, I can’t help but pause to savor the feel of
her there for a few long moments. She’s soft, so achingly soft, and fits
perfectly into all the contours of my body like she was always meant to be
there. Like she was always meant to be mine.
Did she accept my surname? I don’t know, but I’ve given it to her all the
same. She’ll fight me on it, I’m sure, if it’s not something she wants.
I have absolutely no doubt my bride is more than capable of pushing
back against me when she needs to. Even in the short time we’ve known one
another, I’ve watched her conquer her fear again and again, watched her
accept this blessing from the Goddess with a natural-born grace and a spine
made of iron.
She’ll have me, but it will be on her own terms. She’ll accept this
pronouncement from the Goddess, but not without making me earn every inch
I take from her. With each stubborn, courageous step forward, I understand a
little more about my witch.
The Veil looms before us. Wrapping my arms tighter around my wife, I
lean in to speak against her ear.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“And if you think you’re slipping?”
“I’ll tell you.”
The irritation in her voice is clear, but a persistent edge of dread tugs at
the corner of my soul. The journey here was rough enough, even for someone
who’s accustomed to portal travel.
“Tell me at once if you feel anything is wrong.”
Allie clings tighter to me, and the sweet fear in her spikes.
I don’t want her to be afraid, but nor do I know where exactly she’d end
up if she fell. Each portal of the Veil connects simultaneously to the thirteen
realms. Just because I’ve opened a connection between the demon realm and
the human one doesn’t mean we can’t misstep and end up somewhere else.
Knowing there’s nothing more I can do about it now, I press a kiss to her
cheek and step closer to the Veil.
Inside the stone archway, the swirling, opalescent mist shifts—lazy and
deceiving. I lay my hand on the stone, the intrinsic command keyed to my
blood unlocking the gate. The deep pulse of red indicates that it’s calibrated
to my realm.
“I’ve got you,” I say into her ear. “It will be alright.”
At the first step into the Veil, a thin white magick coats us both. It seeps
into every pore, every inch of exposed skin. It’s Goddess magick, judging
magick, and the rasp of it against our bodies draws a sharp gasp from her. I
draw my wings in tight, clutch her even tighter, and take another step.
A moment later and we’ve fallen off into the void. Like tumbling into
deep water with no sense of up or down, unable to find your way back to the
surface, this nowhere-place pulls us under completely. All I know is Allie. In
the chaos between realms, she’s the tether keeping me grounded.
The Goddess seems to judge us kindly, because within the space of a
few more heartbeats the ground solidifies beneath my feet and I walk us
forward through the portal and into my realm.
“Did we make it?”
I squeeze Allie tight before setting her back on her feet. “Yes, we made
it.”
She takes a moment to reorient herself, and I keep my hands at the ready
to steady her should she have need. At the same time, I study her face as she
takes in her surroundings.
We’re standing on a plateau high in the mountainous, forested region of
the demon realm, close to my home. It’s wild land here—sheer cliffs and
dark pine forests, jagged peaks jutting upward to pierce the sky. The night is
brutally clear, the two moons hanging full and lighting the world in silver. It’s
a land untamed and unforgiving, but also beautiful.
Or, at least I hope my new bride will see it that way.
“Where are we?” she asks and then laughs. “Not that I know anything
about the geography of the this realm.”
“We’re close to my home,” I tell her. “In the Darkwood and the Bone
Peaks region.”
“Huh. You guys don’t really pull any punches with the spooky demon
naming, do you?”
“Such sass,” I murmur, pulling her back to me. “How shall I punish you
for speaking so disrespectfully about your new realm?”
As if in answer, a stiff breeze rises and washes over us both, bringing
with it a wave of cool, biting magick. It’s all the welcome we’re likely to get
from an unsettled realm.
In front of me, Allie inhales deeply before letting out her breath on a
shuddering exhale. “That’s… potent.”
“What do you sense?”
She closes her eyes, breathes deeply once more.
“Sorrow,” she says quietly. “And something in the magick that’s
fractured and unsteady.”
I sense everything she hints at. The waning strains of magick that bind
this realm together, the growing instability from the Veil behind us. All the
ways in which the demons here are already feeling the consequences of it.
Ever since the last witch, Emilia, lost her magick and had to return to
the human realm, it’s been all too clear. There are changes happening in the
demon realm, and none of them for the better.
The magick which keeps this realm in balance is all off-kilter. Great
storms roll in from the seas and large swathes of fertile farmland are
drought-ridden and unproductive. Our last winter was long and brutally cold.
Crops are meager, and my kinsmen grow hungry and restless. We have food
stores enough to see us through another season, perhaps two, but after that…
The oldest among demonkind can remember their elders speaking of
times before the witch bargain, when it was the magick of human souls which
kept our realm intact. For promises of glory, wealth and beauty in their own
realm, they’d send their souls to ours when they perished, and so our realm
would harness that magick and prosper.
Witches always knew better than to make such bargains. Their magick is
keen and canny and too valuable to sacrifice to a demon. That is, until they
figured out a way to serve both realms. When the first witch bound herself to
the bargain, it is said the Goddess smiled at the compromise which kept both
her realms safe. A witch bride in exchange for a cessation of soul collecting.
Magick to sustain the demon realm. An end to the suffering of mortals by
demons’ hands.
But even now, there are those who whisper the time to break the bargain
has come, that it’s time to go back to the old ways of stalking the crossroads
of the human realm for willing victims.
I’m not yet ready to concede. I, too, know stories from the elders.
There’s a price to be paid for soul-reaping, and I’d not see my people forced
to pay it if they do not have to.
As if I could shield her from the fractured, unsteady magick which
threatens, I pull Allie’s attention back to me with a firm hand on her jaw.
Leaning in, I press my lips to her cheek.
“It’s a problem for tomorrow,” I say softly against her skin before
pulling back to meet her gaze. “My realm is in no terrible danger tonight, no
matter the outcome of our union.”
Allie nods, though when I pull away the shadows haven’t left her eyes.
“We must try,” I tell her. “Despite it all, we owe our two realms that
much, don’t we?”
The words seem to bolster her. The slight, determined spark in her eye
is a welcome change, and when she places her hands on her hips and sets her
mouth into a playful little smirk, I feel something come back to life within
me.
“So tell me about what comes next,” Allie says, forcing levity back into
her tone. “What kind of magick sustains an entire realm?”
A dark, clawing hunger awakens in my belly at the question.
What magick, indeed.
Taking a few steps away from her, I circle her slowly, allowing my
wings to unfurl to let her know exactly what manner of beast she’s dealing
with.
“What kind of magick do you think? Are you not my bride, Allison
Ashblood? Can you not guess?”
Her eyes widen, and I watch a little tremor move through her. “A power
defined by our union.”
“Yes. There’s great power to be found in a demon claiming a human for
his own, much more so when that human is a witch.”
“And so you’d claim me?” she asks, jutting out her chin. “You think I’d
hand over my soul so easily?”
“It’s not your soul the bargain demands.”
A beautiful flush creeps up her cheeks. “I’m not well-versed in sex
magick.”
The hesitance in her voice stops me short. “Are you a virgin?”
“No. I’ve slept with men… women, too.” Allie glances up at me
tentatively, waiting to gauge my reaction.
I only nod in understanding. “A common practice amongst demons as
well, to take male and female lovers.”
“Have you?”
“I’ve only taken females to my bed. Never a human, though, never a
witch.”
“Have they all been demons?”
The edge in her question bites in the best way. “Do you truly want my
whole sordid history, Allie? Because then I might ask for yours in return, and
I have a suspicion hearing about your past lovers would make me feel even
more feral than I do now.”
She frowns sharply, and I can almost taste the anger in her. The jealousy.
It pleases me.
“If you’re not a virgin,” I say, “then have you not practiced sex magick
with your partners?”
From what I’d been able to glean from the texts I’ve studied, the
practice is somewhat common amongst human witches.
“Most of my partners were non-magickal,” she says with a shrug.
Something about her tone strikes me as off. But I don’t want to push her
for details, and I’m half-convinced it’s just wishful thinking making me
believe I know Allie better than I truly do when she speaks again.
“But I’m more than willing to try, with you.”
A pulse between us. A consent, an understanding.
“We’ll take this slow, Allie,” I promise her, breathing deep and trying to
slow down the urgent race of my blood. “There’s nothing too complicated
expected of us, only our union and our willingness to fulfill the bargain’s
terms.”
“Fair enough,” she allows. “I have another question.”
“Mmm?”
She looks me up and down. “You seem to be built generally like a
human.”
I arch a brow.
“Well, aside from the obvious.” She rolls her eyes and I chuckle. “I’m
just wondering if there's anything I should be… um… aware of? Anything
that’s not quite…”
“Are you asking about my cock?”
Her face flames, and the sudden rush of blood beneath her skin makes
my fangs ache, desperate to know what she tastes like. Not that I expect I’ll
get to find out anytime soon. Unless I truly want her to run screaming back to
the human world through the nearest portal.
Baby steps.
Allie gives a jerky nod, apparently beyond the ability to voice the
question.
I step closer to her and reach out to rest my hands on her hips, lean in to
bring my lips to the curve of her ear. “I have a knot. You won’t take it tonight,
but someday you will. We’ll work you up to it.”
The shiver that runs through her shakes her whole body, and I’d think it
was fear if not for the answering wave of arousal I can scent on her.
My reaction to it is swift, violent, and entirely unexpected. Knowing my
mate is here, in my arms, dampening her panties at the thought of taking my
knot within her, it’s too much. My fangs push out even further, my skin feels
like it’s burning, and I don’t have to glance down to know I’m fully erect
beneath my trousers.
I have to get a grip on myself.
“That’s going to be… interesting,” Allie murmurs, sparing a glance
down at my fabric-covered erection. “Nothing else I should know about?”
“I may be larger than you’re used to, with human men.”
The comment earns me a delightful peal of laughter from my mate.
“Oh, is that so?” she asks, placing a hand on her cocked hip. “And
what? You’re ready to stuff all that big, bad length of yours into your witch?”
The challenge in her voice is a shot of pure sexual temptation into my
blood. The impertinent little thing has no idea what she’s in for, and I would
educate her.
My lips curl back, showing the full length of my fangs. “Yes, Allison,” I
say, dropping my voice and infusing it with deliberate provocation. “I would.
But only when she’s hot and wet and ready for me.”
I prowl closer, herding her back under the cover of the surrounding
pines. Allie’s breathing ticks up, her pupils dilate, and like a startled fawn
she darts her eyes from side to side as if looking for the best place to run.
Oh, how I wish she would run.
Again beating back the half-animal thing inside of me that can only think
dark, depraved things when I look at her, I take a step forward, and then
another, until I’m close enough to touch.
“Are you already, little witch?” I rest one hand around the base of her
throat, holding lightly enough that she could move away if she wanted to.
“Am I what?”
My hand pulses tighter and, Goddess help me, Allie leans into my hold.
“Are you ready for me, Allison Ashblood?”
With that, I draw her into me, crashing my mouth into hers and
swallowing down whatever reply she might have made.
As the kiss deepens, my tail moves of its own volition to stroke the
inside of one sweet thigh beneath her skirt. She squeals a little, pulling away
to look down at where it disappears under the unbelievably appealing,
delicate floral fabric.
“I didn’t know it could do that,” she pants.
“Should I stop?”
Even as I ask, my tail moves higher, toying with the edge of her panties
in the crease where her thigh meets her hip. It isn’t as sensitive as my fingers
or my cock, but it still has enough feeling in it to note the soft delicate pull of
the fabric.
Lace? I want to groan out loud.
One good swipe of my claws and it would shred, leaving her bare
beneath her skirt.
Feeling my tightrope of control grow taut once more, I make myself ask
again. “Allie. Should I stop?”
“No,” she says, reaching up boldly to grab my horns and pull my face
back to hers.
That goddamned tight rope is in tatters when I claim my wife’s mouth
again. My tail follows the edge of her panties between the swell of her thick,
warm thighs, teasing all the way down until it presses flat against the spot
where nothing more than a thin layer of lace stands between me and the
tempting, inviting heat of her.
I devour Allie’s answering groan and, daring just a little more, let the
blunted tip of my tail delve under the fabric.
Soaked. My mate is soaked for me.
Running my tail along her slit, I stop at the very top, dipping into her.
When I graze against her clit, Allie’s entire body shudders and those hot little
hands of hers grip tighter to my horns. The waves of arousal rolling off her
are a shot of aphrodisiac straight into my veins, and the last straining threads
of my control snap.
Reaching down, I lift Allie into my arms, inhaling her small gasp of
surprise. A few steps forward and I’ve got her backed into a tree, pressed
against the smooth bark, keeping her supported as much as I can so she
doesn’t have to lean too much into the unyielding surface. She wraps her
thighs around me and the soft press of them clinging to my waist makes me
thrust instinctively forward into the welcoming cradle of her body.
A quick tug and my trousers could be down around my knees. A swipe
of claws to deal with the lacy thing she’s wearing. A long slow slide into her
warm, wanting cunt and we’d be well and truly joined.
No, I tell myself, not yet. This first pleasure will be all hers. The need
to make my mate fall apart in my arms is as great as my own need to drive
into her.
Keeping her pinned against the tree, I pull back from the bliss of her
mouth and study Allie’s face as I pleasure her. Moving my tail from her clit
to her damp entrance, I push—testing, teasing, seeing how she’ll react to the
intimate caress. When it’s with a keening cry and a pulse of her hips against
my invasion, I thrust deeper, letting myself be lost in the hot, wet pull of her.
Chapter 7
Allie
I have a demon’s tail in my pussy.
A demon’s tail. In. My. Pussy.
No matter how I mince the words in my mind, there’s no making sense
of them, so I stop trying.
The slow slide of Eren’s tail inside me is torture. It’s pure,
unadulterated pleasure as he smashes through every last one of my defenses
and pushes in, in, in until I’m writhing and crying out at the unfamiliar
invasion and the mind-scrambling sense of fullness.
Still holding me up with one arm, he snakes the other down between us,
fingers running along the edge of my panties, dipping below.
I pull my mouth from his. “Claws?”
With a wicked smile, he brings his hand up and hovers it in front of my
face. The long, vicious claws I caught sight of earlier have retracted back
into his fingers.
“Okay,” I pant, senseless, as he drops his hand back down. “Okay, I
guess that’s fine.”
“Just fine?” he teases.
One long, thick finger runs along the edge of my pussy, tracing where
he’s fucking me with his tail.
“Oh, little witch,” he groans. “You feel exquisite.”
I bite back a scream as his tail pushes in another inch and his finger rubs
slow circles around my clit. Arching against him, I reach up and grab onto
his horns for leverage, earning a deep grunt from my demon. He’s merciless
as he works me—tail and fingers in tandem—driving me higher, faster, out of
my mind.
Those wings come back around me, sheltering us both and narrowing
the world to nothing more than Eren and me and the storm building between
us.
I’m going to come. I’m going to come with a demon’s tail inside me, my
hands around his horns, and my whole body wrapped up in his wings.
Madness. Utter fucking madness, this entire night.
Surrendering to the deranged impossibility of it all, I shake and spasm
around him, crying out shameless into the clear night air as my release breaks
over me.
We’re both breathing hard when he slides his tail out of me and brings
his hand from between my legs to his lips, inhaling deeply before dipping his
soaked fingers into his mouth.
I whimper at the filthy, erotic sight of it, and Eren’s eyes gleam.
Dropping his hand, he claims my mouth again in a swift, hard kiss and I taste
myself on him.
He holds me for a few minutes more until my breathing evens out and I
think I might be able to stand without immediately crumpling to the forest
floor. When I’m back on my feet, he still doesn’t stop touching me. His hands
drift over my hips, along my waist, around to cup my backside.
Despite having zero indication he’s anything less than delighted with my
body, the touches still make the faintest stirrings of unease creep into my
stomach.
I’m… not a small woman. Large hips, a generous ass, a rounded
stomach and thighs. I’ve come to appreciate what I’m working with after
twenty-six years in this skin, but it’s always a crap shoot to anticipate what
potential sex partners might have to say about it.
Still, I make myself push the thoughts out. Eren just tail-fucked me to
oblivion and kisses me like he wants to devour me completely. I don’t think I
have much to worry about.
“What’s next?” I ask him when I’ve finally caught my breath. “Are we,
uh, going to your place anytime soon?”
Goddess. I sound like a nervous twit on a first date.
Which, I mean, is kind of accurate.
Eren only chuckles. “Yes, we’ll be going to our place soon.”
A small bubble of warmth blooms in my stomach at the correction,
along with a distinct sense of nerves. Where do demons even live?
“There’s…
something
more,”
Eren
continues,
looking
uncharacteristically abashed. “A custom amongst my people.”
“What is it?”
He’s silent for a long moment, staring down at me like he’s trying to
figure out how likely I am to run screaming from whatever it is he has to say
next.
“It’s… I…”
I roll my eyes and try to speak with the courage of the woman who was
just pushed up against a tree impaled by this demon’s thick tail. “Whatever it
is, I think I can take it.”
Like I thought, a challenge gets my demon every time. With a cruel grin
and hungry gleam in his eye, Eren comes back to life.
“Oh, is that so?”
“Lay it on me, bat boy.”
“Such a mouth,” he murmurs. “And I think I know just the punishment for
the impertinence.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes, Allison, I do. I think I’ll make you my prey.”
My mind blanks, then fills back up with a chorus of alarm bells. Horny,
intrigued alarm bells, but still.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 8
Eren
I may have just broken my bride.
Allie’s eyes go wide as saucers, her dark lashes blinking slowly as she
tries to process what I just said.
“Your… prey?”
“Yes.”
“As in… you would hunt me?”
“Yes,” I tell her again, fangs creeping dangerously lower as I hear her
say it out loud.
“And what would happen at the end of this hunt?”
I can’t help it, I laugh. Slowly circling her, I drop my voice low so she
has to strain to hear it. “Ah, little witch, I think you already know what would
wait for you at the end.”
A shiver runs through her, and it’s a delicious mix of arousal and fear. I
know I should be ashamed, feeling as excited as I do by the potent
combination, but I could no more deny that part of myself than I could deny
my wings or my horns or my tail.
I don’t want to frighten her, not truly, not in a way that would make her
stop trusting me, but this? These games of chase and capture, of power and
submission? They are part of who I am and I would not hide that fact from
her.
Besides, as a demon’s mate, she’d have seen this part of me eventually.
The thought makes me pause, realizing I still haven’t mentioned the
whole mates part of this equation between us. All Allie knows is that she
was chosen by the Goddess, which is true, but I doubt she even suspects who
she truly is to me.
I should tell her.
But… should I? Some part of me can sense that Allie’s confidence is
hanging on by a thin edge, made thinner still by the bomb I just dropped into
her lap. To add the idea of our bond—unbreakable, fated, permanent—into
that mix might truly overwhelm her.
So, maybe it can wait.
Allie’s breath has gone from even and relaxed to quick and panicked in
no time at all, and I stop circling.
“Talk to me, Allie.”
“I’m just… processing.”
Inhaling deeply, I expect to find every trace of her arousal receded. I
don’t. Oh, there’s certainly a measure of sweet fear pulsing off of her, but her
warm, intoxicating desire is clearer than ever, and I feel my blood rise to
meet it.
Is this exciting to her? The thought of me hunting her? The idea of being
caught?
I watch the struggle play across her features, helpless to interpret what
she’s feeling.
Someday I’ll know every tiny muscle of her face. I’ll be able to tell
when she’s cross with me and when she’s filled with mischief. One glance at
Allie and I’ll know her completely.
Until then, I’m suspended somewhere between this realm and the next,
wondering how she’ll react to finding out about this dark facet of my nature.
“I think…” she says finally, her voice wild and hoarse and hungry. “I
think I want to be hunted.”
And just like that, every ounce of my hunter’s instinct roars to life in my
blood.
“You don’t have to. It’s what I want, but it has to be your choice.” The
words might just kill me, actually kill me.
She puts a hand on her chest, like she’s trying to slow her heart, get
control over her rapid breathing. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
I let myself step closer and pull Allie into my arms, turning her gently so
her back is pressed against my front. Running my nose up the column of her
neck, I’m obliterated completely by the radiant scent coming off of her. The
dark spice of arousal, her own rich parchment and rose aroma, the bite of
sharp, enticing fear.
Tonight will be the death of me, or my rebirth.
The knowledge hits me with stunning, breath-stealing clarity. No matter
the outcome, I will never again be the same male I was when I stepped
through that portal to meet my fate.
“Trust your instincts,” I urge her. “And tell me to stop if you need to.
Nothing happens between us that you don’t want or feel comfortable with.”
“Okay,” she says, breathless and still trying to calm herself down.
“Okay. What happens now?”
My lips curl up in a cruel, hungry smile. “Now, little witch, you run.”
Chapter 9
Allie
Eren disappears between one heartbeat and the next, shooting skyward in
a graceful ascent. Banking sharply, he disappears over the treetops.
I’m all alone.
Even while some small sliver of my rational mind can understand
what’s happening, the largest part of it is simply blank. No thoughts, only
pulsing need and the faintest edge of hysterical disbelief.
Is any of this real?
This morning I woke up in my efficiency apartment and drove my beatup Subaru to work. I ate a turkey sandwich for lunch. I had plans to bingewatch the new season of Love is Blind tonight.
Now, I’m alone in the demon realm, about to be hunted and claimed and
fucked by a male with glowing red eyes, horns, and wings. And a knot,
apparently.
And if all that weren’t impossible enough?
There’s just the small, inconsequential fact that I’m so, so into it.
Absently, I consider the possibility I’ve had a full break from reality.
An owl hoots in the distance—or, at least, what I assume is an owl, a
demon owl?—whatever it is, it startles me back to the present. Somewhere
out there, my demon is waiting. I hear nothing, can barely see through the
shadowed underbrush, but I know he’s there.
I take off through the trees, careening blindly into the thick forest.
Beneath the cover of the pines, the ground is relatively flat and open, but
there’s no true path. No, there’s nothing around me but an endless dark forest.
I know I should be more horrified by the situation, but with each passing
moment all I feel is a growing sense of electric anticipation.
What will it be like when he takes me? How will he catch me?
Fear and lust spike painfully in my veins, a potent combination that feels
somehow completely foreign and yet… natural. Like some dark, primal part
of me knows I’m meant to be Eren’s prey.
Pine boughs snap at my arms as I run, trying to pull me into their
darkness. Shafts of silver moonlight from the realm’s two strange moons cut
through from above, but the rest of the world is shifting shadows and danger.
Any number of demon creatures could wander these woods, laying in wait
for their dinner.
And the most dangerous one of all is after me.
I run without thinking, without pausing to try to figure out where I am,
where I should go next. It’s only when the trees break around me and I come
to a skidding stop at the edge of a high cliff with my heart thundering in my
ears that I take a moment to look around.
The demon realm is beautiful.
Washed in moonlight, the valley below the mountain is a sea of dark
pines framed by more high, distant peaks. In the silver glow, I can see the
snow dusting the mountains where they jut up into a soft bank of wispy
clouds. The sky above is a wonder, scattered with a million burning stars.
Even in the most remote places I visited back in the human realm, I’ve never
seen stars shine so brightly.
I’m so caught up by it that for just a moment I forget I’m being hunted.
My mistake.
I get no warning before I’m pulled skyward.
Plucked off the cliff like I’m no more than a field mouse picked off by a
hawk, Eren’s arms wrap around me in an iron grip. A mighty flap of his
wings and we’re airborne, soaring out over the valley below.
I scream in surprise and fear, and Eren just chuckles.
“You left the cover of the forest, little witch,” he says with a cruel edge
in his voice. “It’s like you wanted to be caught.”
My hands scramble over his arms, desperately clinging to him. I try not
to look down. I’ve never been particularly afraid of heights, but there’s sure
as hell a difference between sitting safely on an airplane and dangling over a
thousand-foot drop with nothing more than a demon’s arms to keep me from
falling to my death.
“You won’t fall, Allie,” Eren murmurs, voice incongruously gentle
given the circumstances.
I’m confused for a moment by how he seemed to read my mind, but I
remember his earlier comment about smelling my fear. I’m sure right now I
reek with it.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask. Over the wind, I’m not sure he can
even hear my shaking voice.
Eren’s arms tighten a fraction. “I’m taking you somewhere I can feast on
you.”
Oh. Fuck.
Lust comes roaring back to accompany the fear, and I feel more than
hear the vicious growl that rumbles through my demon.
We round one side of the mountain he yanked me from, ascending even
higher. There, so far above the forest floor, another sheer cliff hangs off the
side of the mountain, and we head straight for it. Eren brings us down
gracefully, the rock ledge acting like a landing pad. I think he’ll let me go
then, but he doesn’t. No, instead he turns me around and tosses me over his
shoulder like a damn caveman.
I struggle and squirm, but all I get out of it is a sharp smack on my ass,
which I only now realize is hanging right out into the night air, my skirt hiked
up high on my thighs.
“Eren,” I protest. “Put me down. I’m too heavy.”
Another smack. “Mouthy little thing, aren’t you? And have you
forgotten, witch? You’re my prey now.”
“Eren!”
He doesn’t even respond this time, just turns his head and drags one
fang down the side of my bare thigh. A warning. My skin breaks out in
goosebumps and he does it again.
As we approach the side of the mountain, I glance over my shoulder,
straining to see where we’re going. There doesn’t seem to be anything in
front of us but bare rock.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask again.
This time, his fang presses down a little harder.
In retaliation, I reach up and run a finger along the edge of one of his
black, leathery wings. The feel of it is softer than I thought it would be, and a
full-body tremor runs through him in response to the touch.
“Unless you’d like me to toss you down and fuck you right here, I
suggest you stop that.”
A wicked, wicked smile turns up the corners of my mouth. I do it again.
Without warning, I’m heaved forward over his shoulder and set on my
feet. He’s crowding into me a moment later, taking my mouth with a savagery
that draws a sharp gasp from me as he shoves me up against the side of the
mountain. The rough stone presses into my back and shoulders, cold and
unyielding.
The demon in front of me is even more unyielding. He devours me,
giving no quarter. Hands on my breasts, skimming down my waist, cupping
me over my panties. Fangs press into the pad of my lower lip, almost hard
enough to break skin.
He raises a hand to brace himself against the stone, and suddenly I’m
falling backward into a void that just moments before was a sheer cliff side.
Eren catches me before I can fall back on my ass. When I’m upright, I
blink for a few moments at the impossibility of what I see.
We’re in a bedroom. Well, a bedchamber feels more accurate. The
space is lit with burning sconces, candles set on the dresser and side tables.
The room itself looks like its carved directly from the mountain, with stone
walls and floors strewn with dark, plush rugs.
The space where we landed is like a balcony off the room, whatever
Eren did to the stone when he touched it opening up a wide doorway.
Curiously, I don’t feel any chill mountain air coming in from outside.
With what I’m sure are cartoon-wide eyes, I whirl back around to study
the room. On the far side, a huge hearth is carved into the stone wall and a
lively fire crackles within. Two plush armchairs are set in front of it on a
deliciously soft looking fur rug. There’s a huge armoire covered in intricate
carvings on the opposite wall, a wide desk pushed up against another, and a
couple of doors on the opposite ends of the room leading who knows where.
Deeper into the mountain? To an en suite of some kind?
And the bed.
Immense, canopied and piled high with fur pelts and blankets, it’s like
something out of a medieval king’s castle.
“Do you like it?”
The question catches me off guard, as does the soft note of vulnerability
in Eren’s deep voice.
“I love it,” I whisper, still taking it all in, unable to look my fill.
Eren comes to stand behind me, hands at the back of my dress. “I’ll see
you bare now, wife.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I peel off my cardigan and shift my
wind-tangled hair over my shoulder, giving him access to my dress’s zipper.
He slides it down, kissing every bit of newly exposed skin along the way.
The press of his mouth feels like reverence against me, like worship.
“Soft,” he murmurs. “So soft and sweet, little witch.”
Despite the tenderness of his touch, when he reaches up to slide the
dress off my shoulders, I feel my body tense instinctively.
Eren misses nothing. “What is it, Allie?”
Damn it. Eren obviously has no problem with the way I look, but a
lifetime of insecurities is a hell of a thing to get past. Even with a freaking
demon sex god right behind me, ready to screw my brains out.
“It’s nothing,” I assure him. “Just, uh, hope you’re not disappointed.”
When he comes to stand in front of me, he’s looking at me like I’ve lost
my mind.
And maybe I have, if I’m a big enough idiot to make him stop whatever
he was about to do next.
“Disappointed?” he asks. “Have I said or done anything these last two
hours that would make you think I don’t ache to touch you? To taste you? To
hunt you down and claim you?”
“No,” I blurt, a shot of heat running through me at his questions. “No,
you haven’t. But—”
“No,” he says sternly, and the firm command in his voice does things to
me. Like, really does things to me. “You will not hide yourself from me. You
will not be ashamed.”
“Okay,” I say. It comes out in a shaky whisper.
As if he knows words won’t convince me, Eren brings his hands back to
my shoulders. The dress slides easily over my heated skin, pooling on the
floor below me.
By some miracle of fate or some intervention of the Goddess, I’m
actually wearing a matching set of underwear today. Sure, they’re from
Target, and sure, the black lace has seen better days, but when I think about
some of the sad, cotton, loose-elastic numbers in my drawer back home,
these look like they belong on a runway model wearing a pair of jet-black
wings.
A strangled noise works its way out of Eren’s throat. The way he’s
staring at me… Goddess above.
Just like that, I forget to be self-conscious. How could I be, when the
fires blazing in his ruby red eyes burn away every last doubt of whether he
wants me?
“Take them off,” he commands. “I don’t trust myself to do it without
destroying them.”
I’m about to give him full permission to do just that when inspiration
strikes.
“Sit down on the bed.”
“You think to order me around, little witch?”
“Sit. Down.”
Eyes flaring wide, he obeys. I follow him to the edge of the vast
mattress, and when he settles himself, I step between his legs. Eyes never
leaving his, I reach behind and unclasp my bra, tossing it carelessly aside.
My breasts aren’t large, just a handful each, which I’ve always thought
to be a bit unfair given the proportions of my lower half. Eren, though,
doesn’t seem to mind a bit. When he reaches up to touch, like he can’t stop
himself, I shake my head.
“Not yet.”
It’s my turn to play.
Chapter 10
Eren
My Allie is full of mischief.
And even though my cock has never been this hard, straining painfully at
the fastenings of my trousers, I would let her have her fun.
I’d let her have anything within my power to give.
Standing in the candlelight before me, Allie is a goddess. Small, round
breasts with dusky pink nipples, a soft stomach I want to nuzzle and nip,
wide hips just begging me to sink my fingers in. Those same fingers burn to
reach out and rip the last little scrap of black lace panties from her body.
I hold myself back, curiosity overcoming the need to have her bare.
“What would you do to me, witch?”
She doesn’t answer. She only slides silently to her knees on the fur rug
beside the bed.
I’m not sure I’m breathing as I watch her smile up at me.
And I know I’m not breathing when her graceful fingers find the
fastenings on my trousers, tugging until they fall open and dipping her hand
inside.
“Allie,” I rasp as her hand closes around my cock.
Her eyes are wide when she draws it out, looking it over in the firelight.
A desperate bubble of laughter rises in my throat at her curiosity, but I bite it
back. I don’t want to break whatever spell my witch is weaving over us.
When she takes me in hand and gives a long, languorous stroke up and
down my shaft, though, I can’t stop my answering groan.
“This is your knot?” she asks, fingers pausing around the still-dormant
notch of flesh right at the base of me.
“Yes,” I tell her, not exactly certain how I’m able to get the word out.
“How does it work?” she asks, leaning forward to press a small kiss on
the underside of my cock, just below the head.
I lose myself in the next few moments. The hot slide of Allie’s mouth on
me is heaven. And hell. She’s enthusiastic and bold—licking, sucking,
driving me mad.
“Eren,” she murmurs, and I know I’ve never heard a sweeter sound.
Allie draws me deep, taking me all the way back down into her throat. I
can’t help it, my hand tangles into her hair, holding her to me. It’s all I can do
not to thrust forward and fuck her mouth.
Still not done toying with me, she pulls herself off me with a wet,
satisfying pop.
“Eren,” she prompts again. “How does it work, your knot?”
“It swells,” I choke out. “When… when I’m…”
“When you’re aroused?” she asks, running her hand over it again.
I give my head a sharp shake. “When I’m ready to mate.”
That makes her pause. She peers up at me with a hundred questions in
her gaze.
I curl my hand around her cheek. “When you take my knot, I’ll rut you.
I’ll spend myself so deep inside you, filling you up with my seed and my
child.”
“Oh,” she says quietly. “Oh, fuck.”
I think she’s about to pull back, about to surrender, to decide that all of
this is too much, when one of her hands comes up to massage my knot. Over
and over she strokes me, and the first faint stirrings of rut bloom in my veins.
I can’t.
Not now.
Not even when my wife is stroking me so sweetly. Not when she’s still
so unaccustomed to me and when her body isn’t ready for the kind of mating I
want to give her.
The darker part of me also warns that I can’t do this until I know she’ll
stay.
If things between us don’t work, if she leaves weakened and drained as
the last witch, damaged because of me… because of this realm…
No, I won’t let myself go there.
Tonight, it doesn’t matter what comes next for us. The only thing that
matters is that Allie is here, with me, beautiful and burning with desire.
In a blink, I lean forward and band my arms around her waist, drawing
her up onto the bed and flipping us so I’m poised above her. And those little
panties? She had a chance to save them, but I’ve been teased enough. I reach
one hand down and they tear like tissue beneath my claws as I yank them off
of her. My own pants follow a moment later with the sound of tearing leather.
Her body opens beneath me, my hips settling between hers, her arms
wrapped around my shoulders. The warmth of her, the softness, the delicious,
heady smell of her arousal, all of it makes me feel intoxicated.
“You don’t know what you tempt me with, wife,” I warn, nudging my
hips forward so the head of my cock presses into her cunt. Even from the
light touch, I can feel how ready she is for me. “You’re not ready to take my
knot. Not tonight.”
A short, strangled cry passes her lips when I press forward a little
further, breaching her, teasing her. I pull back and run my cock up and down
the length of her slit just to see her squirm. Allie is slick and hot, eager and
needy, but I’m not going to let her get what she wants so easily.
“Eren,” she pleads, and the sound of her begging is like music.
“What do you need, Allie?”
She doesn’t answer, just brings her knees up and uses her thighs to grip
my hips. Bucking up against me, she presses her soaking cunt against my
cock, begging with her body just as prettily as she did with her voice.
“Use your words,” I taunt her. “Tell me exactly what you need and I just
might give it to you.”
Chapter 11
Allie
The audacity of this man, this demon, is astounding.
Here I am, splayed wide and practically putting myself on a silver
platter for him, and he wants me to beg for it?
Not a chance in hell, bat boy.
Fully intending to reclaim control of the situation, I lower my legs and
try to twist away from him, only to find my hands pinned above my head and
my body crushed beneath his a moment later.
Eren’s eyes are two flames in the dim candlelight, lit with excitement
and challenge and the faintest hint of vicious torment.
“No, little witch,” he taunts. “You’re not going anywhere.”
I struggle against his hold, and it only delights him further.
Still, he leans down and whispers into my ear. “Rose petals. Say those
words and I stop.”
I look at him with glazed eyes, taking a few seconds to comprehend.
“Allison, do you understand?”
I nod. “Yes, I’ll say it if it’s too much.”
“Good girl,” he says, the words practically a snarl. “And now, what am
I to do with a delicious little piece of prey who doesn’t know her place?”
The words are cruel, unfeeling, but the burning warmth in his eyes is
unmistakable.
I’ve never played these kinds of games before, never really trusted any
of my partners enough to go there. But there’s something about the dark
promise of being so helpless beneath him, the idea that I could surrender my
control to him completely, that reaches in and tugs at a dark, unexplored
corner of my psyche.
It seems like way too much to examine, particularly with a demon’s
cock still pressed up against my pussy, so I decide to set the questions aside
for now and just be here with Eren.
I try again to pull my wrists from his grasp, struggle and squirm and
kick, but his steady hold and massive bulk keep me in place.
“Let me go,” I demand, breathless.
“Let you go? When I haven’t even had the chance to taste you?”
Taste me? He can’t mean what I think he means. My gaze darts to his
gleaming fangs, then back to his fire-bright eyes.
Safe word, I remind myself, we have a safe word. Rose petals, and it’s
over.
“What are you going to do to me?”
Eren’s expression grows dark with sinister promise. “I’m going to claim
you, Allie. I’m going to make you hunger for me like I hunger for you. I’m
going to make you surrender your soul to me.”
He dips his head to my collarbone, then lower to the swell of my breast.
His fangs are a sharp whisper against my skin.
“You said that’s not what you’re going to take.” The words are hoarse,
balanced on a knife’s edge as I wait to see what exactly he plans to do with
those fangs.
“Take?” he asks, lifting his head to look up at me. “Never take. You’ll
offer it freely.”
“Only if you give me yours, too.”
I make the comment half as a taunt, half as a desperate attempt to claw
my way back from the deep whirlpool of whatever he’s hinting at. Give this
demon my soul? What would that mean for me?
“Don’t you know, little witch?”
He drags his thick, heavy cock up and down me again, letting the length
of it slide against my clit. The need to have him inside is a painful, clawing
thing.
“Know what?”
He doesn’t answer, just repeats the motion until I’m wild and writhing,
any words or sensible thoughts completely beyond me.
“I want you inside,” I gasp out, practically begging. “Please, Eren.”
Who am I kidding? I’m begging. Full-on, needy, pride-burned-to-ash
begging.
“You’d deny us both the pleasure of my mouth on this sweet cunt of
yours?”
“Later,” I whine. “Need you.”
His answering laugh is a cruel, dark thing.
“Very well, witch,” he says, the harsh words undercut by the groan that
leaves him when he notches himself and presses forward.
There’s nothing, nothing at all in the world except the slow sear of him
filling me. Above me, Eren’s wings flare wide, his red eyes gleam, and I
hear the whip of his tail on the sheets behind him, like he needs to expel
some of the coiled energy in him, energy I swear I can feel humming beneath
his skin every time I touch him.
In this moment, he’s never looked less human. Or more beautiful.
When he bottoms out, I can feel the swell of his knot pressing against the
edge of my pussy. A slight note of alarm rings through me, and I peer down to
where our bodies are joined.
“Not tonight, little witch,” Eren says, the words hoarse.
Is it disappointment, what I’m feeling?
I don’t have a spare moment to examine the feeling before he draws
himself out and thrusts deep again, with more force behind it this time.
The stretch of him borders on obscene. Even though I’m practically
dripping for him, and even though I’m more than ready after the working over
he gave me earlier with his tail, it’s still a tight fit. He might be an arrogant
demon, but he certainly has the goods to back up his bragging about his size.
When I cry out, he releases my still-caught hands and grabs the back of
one thigh. Lifting it higher on his hip he presses deep, letting his halfengorged knot rub up against my clit.
“Oh, fuck!” I cry out at the unfamiliar sensation. My nails score his skin,
and when he takes my mouth in a deep, claiming kiss I run my tongue over his
fangs, bite down hard on his bottom lip, and the pleasure-pain of it all makes
him lose whatever last bit of control he was holding on to.
Eren fucks me like no human lover ever has. Deep, demanding,
relentless.
Holding me open, hips and cock pounding against me, I’m drowning in
sensation. Raw and elemental, it feels like nothing less than magick. And
maybe it is, I think in some half-conscious corner of my mind, how could it
not be?
Still keeping up his punishing pace, Eren leans in close to my neck for a
moment before pulling back roughly and letting out a frustrated growl.
“What is it?” I ask, worried I’ve done something taboo, broken some
rule I wasn’t even aware of.
He squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a long, shuddering breath. The
heavy rhythmic thrust of his cock stills, and I can feel the waves of tension
rolling off my demon.
“My instincts… are telling me to bite you.”
I can’t help it, I shiver.
Those fangs.
It’s a sinister little thrill to run my tongue over them when we kiss, a
stark reminder that my lover is anything but human. The thought of him taking
those same fangs and sinking them into me…
“Does it hurt?” I ask.
Eren looks at me like his soul has left his body. “It causes a sensation of
pleasure. An almost overwhelming pleasure.”
“Oh.”
With that one syllable, every single inch of him goes still, waiting to see
what I decide to say next.
And what will I say? In for a penny, in for a damn pound, I guess.
“I think that’s alright, then.”
Eren’s eyes are liquid fire. “Little witch.”
His words are a warning, one I have no intention to heed.
I want this. I want every bit of my demon. The tender, the rough, the
hungry. I want him.
“Trust your instincts, Eren,” I tell him, echoing his earlier words.
His fangs elongate before my eyes, and it surprises me so much that I
draw in a sharp breath. My core clenches in fear and exhilaration, and Eren
groans.
“Allison Ashblood,” he says, equal parts graveled reverence and sin.
“You’ll kill me yet.”
With that, he strikes.
Chapter 12
Eren
Allie’s blood blooms across my tongue like a rich, red vintage, bottled
up twenty-six years just waiting for me.
It’s somehow all of her, and more. Cloves and roses, parchment and
petrichor. A dark stirring of desire and the gentlest thread of the sweet fear
she’s trusted me enough to let me cradle in my hands.
I draw deep from her, thrust into her tight cunt, and pleasure grips the
bottom of my spine like a fist. There’s nothing more I want than to stretch out
this first time together, make it last for hours, days, the rest of our lives, but
biting her was a bridge too far.
We both lose ourselves to the pure pleasure of it. Allie is a wildcat
beneath me, clawing, biting, as ravenous for me as I am for her, and when she
tightens and shakes with her climax, I’m lost. I spill into her, pressing as
deep as I can without forcing my knot in her.
Every nerve, every muscle, every last atom of my being comes apart at
its most fundamental level before rearranging into something new, something
better.
Something that’s hers, and hers alone.
When I come up for air, I’m reborn.
Finally becoming conscious of my heavy weight on her smaller frame, I
move to pull out and shift off her. Allie, though, has other ideas.
“Stay,” she says, tightening her legs and arms on me to keep me from
leaving. “Just for a little bit. I like you here.”
As if I could do anything but obey her sweet command. Bracing myself
on my elbows, I smile down at her, not caring that she can probably see my
fangs tinged with the lingering remnants of her blood.
“Satisfied, witch?”
She just hums low in her throat, not yet ready to concede my mastery of
her body.
“No?” I ask, circling my hips against her. Despite the life-altering
orgasm I just had, I’m still nearly at full-mast within her.
Allie makes a nonsensical noise of protest and pleasure. “Yes, you
demon, I’m satisfied. And too sensitive right now to do that again.”
I draw my hips back, pulling out of her with a wet slide.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “Fuck, that feels good.”
“You take me so well, my mate,” I say, not thinking about the words,
mindless with pleasure at seeing her marked by me.
Allie tenses. “Your what?”
What did I just say? Her eyes are wide, confused and wary, all the
satisfied warmth they held a minute ago disappeared.
Mate, I called her my mate.
This time, when Allie tries to move away from me, I let her. Like sand
slipping through my fingers, I try to think how I can explain why I didn’t
mention it sooner.
Allie scoots back to sit up against the pillows at the head of the bed and
wraps her arms around herself. “So that’s why you… all of this is just a
biological thing?”
“No,” I say quickly. “That’s not, I mean, it’s not just that.”
“Explain it to me, then.”
“I know it’s not something humans experience…”
“I know about mates,” she says sharply. “Sure, humans don’t have them,
but I’ve read enough to know…” She brings a hand up to rub at her eyes.
“Oh, my god. Did you even want it to be me, back in the human realm? Were
you disappointed when one of the others didn’t turn out to be your… your
mate?”
I frown. “No, Allie, you’re mine. The Goddess chose you for me. And
me for you.”
She shakes her head and looks away. When I catch the brief flash of
tears in her eyes, a hairline crack opens up across my heart.
“Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”
I shake my head. I don’t know why I didn’t; I don’t know how to answer
her.
“Stupid,” she mutters, and I know she’s talking to herself.
“Allie,” I say firmly. “This is not—”
“It’s just magick,” she says, cutting me off and letting out a humorless
little laugh. “I should have realized. I shouldn’t have felt so… anyway. It’s
fine. I just shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have read so much into it.”
“Allie,” I try again. “Can we just—”
“Is there somewhere I can clean up?”
Pausing before I answer her, I search her face, and hate that I suddenly
find it too closed off to read. My Allie has been an open book since the
moment we met, emotions and passion clear on her face. But now? Now
she’s carefully blank, hiding whatever she doesn’t want me to see.
“Through there,” I say, pointing toward a side door.
Watching her get up from bed and walk away to take care of herself
feels wrong on a soul-deep level.
I should be caring for her after what we just did. I pushed her tonight,
asked so much of her body, demanded her trust, and she gave and gave every
step of the way. And now, when it’s my turn to give, I’ve finally pushed too
far.
Shame and regret spiral up like smoke from the bottom of my gut.
From the other side of the door, I hear the faint sound of water running,
followed by a soft splash a minute later, and I imagine her lowering herself
into the tub.
I should be there, washing her, soothing her. She’s my wife, my mate…
Why didn’t I tell her sooner? The answer comes to me easily enough.
Exactly for this reason, idiot.
Humans don’t conceptualize mates like demons do. The draw, the tie to
her, from the outside in it’s no surprise that it looks a whole lot like
thoughtless compulsion.
On some level, I think I could already sense that Allie needed to feel
chosen. The way she couldn’t believe it was her the Goddess selected for
me, the way even her own mother had no faith in her abilities. It’s no great
leap to guess my little witch knows the sting of rejection all too well.
And now she’s feeling it from me.
Rising naked from the bed, I cross the room on unsteady legs. My mind
tumbles over itself as I approach the door, thinking about how I can fix this.
But when I hear faint crying from within, all thoughts leave me and I act
on pure instinct.
Chapter 13
Allie
The bathroom is beautiful. There’s a wide tub set into the floor and
carved from the mountain stone itself, fixtures of shining obsidian, soft rugs
on the floor, and a soaring cathedral ceiling that’s open to the night sky so
high above.
A magickal place, an impossible one, and I’m completely unable to
appreciate it as I cross to the sink and turn on the faucet to splash some water
on my face. Staring at myself in the mirror, I’m surprised to find the same old
Allie looking back at me. After everything that’s happened, it seems
impossible.
Well, the same old Allie with sex-tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips and
two truly shocking fang marks on my neck. The same old Allie with a demon
husband.
Not only that, but mate. Eren thinks I’m his mate.
The concept is simple enough to understand. Other species who can
sometimes feel compelled on their basest level toward a reproductive
partner. It’s biological, devoid of reason or want or… affection. There are
whole tomes about it in the coven archives, where I spend one weekend a
month in order to fulfill my required service as an active coven member.
While I might not understand everything about it, I’ve read enough to get the
basic facts.
Eren didn’t choose me.
I mean, I knew that, right? The whole Tithe thing, the choosing by the
Goddess, all of that I understood.
It’s just… Eren had seemed happy it was me. No matter what brought us
together, I thought maybe I was someone he would have chosen, if life or fate
had afforded us that luxury.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Stepping away from the sink, I walk to the huge sunken tub that’s
steaming with warm, fragrant water and wade in. My body is sore in the best
way, my core aching from his rough, delicious fucking. If what we shared
tonight is any indication, the physical part of this bargain, at least, won’t be
any kind of burden to endure.
So why do I care so much about the mate thing? Eren is obviously
attracted to me, and worships at my body like it’s an altar. Does it really
matter why? We’re together now, why does it matter whether he’d have
chosen it?
It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter. And maybe I’m just blowing it out of
proportion. All of it’s got me fucked up—this whole night, the looming
specter of the Veil and the bargain, losing my previous life. I’m in no
headspace to figure out anything I’m feeling right now.
Still, I stand in the middle of the bath, unable to move, unable to sort
through my racing thoughts. I can’t let it go… the confidence and certainty in
the way he looked at me… knowing it was me he wanted… feeling the
magick of the Goddess settle over us and believing for just a moment that it
wasn’t some terrible mistake…
It made me feel powerful. For the first time in my life.
Unable to stop it, a small sob breaks from me. Fuck. I shouldn’t feel this
weak. I can’t do this, can’t break like this, can’t be feeling so much, so soon.
Nothing has changed, and everything has.
I’m too busy trying to stop the tears to register the quiet opening of the
door behind me, or the soft, quick footsteps over the stone floor. It’s not until
I hear a splash that I turn and immediately find myself hauled up against a
hard male body.
“Allie,” Eren breathes. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”
It only makes me sob harder.
Eren wraps one arm around my waist, tangles the other in my hair, and
lays his cheek on top of my head. He doesn’t say anything else, just holds me
as I cry.
I don’t even think all the tears are coming from the whole mates thing,
but a dam that’s broken from holding back everything else. The choosing, my
fear, the intensity of everything Eren and I shared tonight, just… all of it.
When I’ve cried out all the tears I can, Eren moves his hand from my
hair to rub in soothing strokes up and down my back. He still doesn’t say
anything, doesn’t give me an inch of space.
“Are you happy I’m your mate?” I ask him.
Goddess above, what a pathetic question.
In response, Eren only holds me tighter, hooks an arm under me so he
can pull me up into his embrace, and wades us both back until we’re sitting
on the submerged bench at the side of the tub. After a few more long, silent
seconds, he takes a shaky breath before he answers.
“I feel blessed to have you as my mate, Allison Ashblood.”
The note of possession in the name and in his tone makes me feel like I
might cry again.
“I should have told you,” he goes on. “I should have been honest about
the fact that from the moment I stepped through the Veil, I knew you were
mine.”
“But it’s not something you chose. If you could have—”
“I would choose you in this realm or the human realm or any of the rest.
I would choose you always, you beautiful, sweet, unearthly creature. Mates
or not, Goddess-blessed or not, there could never be a life in which I did not
know you as my own.”
I can only nod, fully too overwhelmed to process the enormity of his
words.
“Can I take care of you, Allie?” he asks softly.
Numbly, I let him. I don’t know exactly what it does for my own frayed
emotions, but it seems to soothe him. With each stroke of the washcloth over
my body, each pass of his gentle, clawed fingers through my hair as he
washes and rinses it, each tender knead of my sore muscles, I feel him grow
more relaxed.
It calms me a little as well, at least enough that when a low rumble
kicks up from his chest, I visibly startle.
“What is that?”
He looks suddenly ashamed, and the rumble subsides. “I’m sorry.”
“Were you… were you purring?”
It’s so oddly incongruous—with his huge, muscled frame, terrifying
fangs, and powerful wings—to imagine something as gentle as a purr being a
part of the package.
Eren won’t meet my eye.
“Wait, is the purr bad?”
“It’s… a noise of contentment, deep contentment.”
“Then why do you look so guilty?”
“Because I shouldn’t be feeling that way,” he says roughly, setting the
cloth he’s still holding aside and releasing his hold on me. He takes a few
steps away to sink down on the bench on the other side of the tub. “I’m sorry,
Allie. I… I’m being selfish. I’ve been so selfish this entire evening.”
Silence falls, and I’m left looking at him with a heavy weight in my
chest and regret creeping into my heart. No matter what else I might be
feeling, no part of me is pleased with seeing my demon so sorrowful.
Making a decision, I stand and wade forward. When I come to stand in
front of him, his head snaps up and the depth of emotion in his deep red eyes
hits me almost like a physical blow.
“Just… hold me?” I ask.
He nods, gathers me back into his arms, and holds me close. I close my
eyes, breathe the steamy air deep into my lungs, and let myself be lost in his
hold and the faint sound of his purr.
Chapter 14
Eren
Allie falls asleep in my arms, and only half-wakes when I lift her from
the tub and pat her sleepily dry.
Picking her up and carrying her, I walk into the bedchamber and hesitate
for just a moment after I’ve deposited her in bed under the thick covers.
“Stay,” she whispers, eyes still closed.
As if my heart weren’t already a battered, broken thing in my chest.
When I slide into bed she’s right there, curling herself into me, choosing
me even in her sleepy stupor. I wonder if I’m taking advantage, pressing
where I shouldn’t, but there’s no force in this realm or the next that could
make me move from this spot when she falls asleep on me.
I brush a length of hair back from her face, over her shoulder, and it
exposes the bite mark I left on her neck. The painful spike of lust and
possessiveness the sight of it inspires mixes uneasily with my lingering guilt
and regret.
Allison Amethyst Ashblood was always meant to be mine. Already my
life seems brighter with her in it. When was the last time I felt this alive?
When was the last time I felt this hopeful?
If I’m being honest with myself, I haven’t felt this kind of light in nearly
two decades.
It’s been almost eighteen years since my mother died trying to bring a
child into the world, and the babe with her, and sixteen since my father
followed, dying more of a broken heart than anything else.
Since then, I’ve been mostly alone. Sure, I have my court, a handful of
those I call friends, but years of grief and the exhaustion of running a realm
have made for a mostly lonesome existence. Even fleeting affairs and lovers
who do more to ease the aches of my body than those in my heart haven’t
brightened the passing years much. Perhaps I’ve forgotten how to love in that
time. I’d almost believe it, by the way my days have grown solitary and
monotonous.
Until a woman with spring-green eyes and a scent like summer rain
found me in a twilight clearing.
Allie stirs gently against me in sleep, and I wish I knew what she was
dreaming of. Maybe she sees her home and all she’s left behind to be here
with me. Or maybe it’s a less pleasant dreamland she walks, one with
threatening, jagged mountain peaks and fraught magick that stings against the
skin.
Settling myself back into the warmth of the pillows and furs, I pull her
tighter to me. Surely there’s nothing so broken between us we cannot fix.
Where Allie and I go from here, I don’t know. What waits for us
tomorrow when we face my court and a realm on the brink of chaos, I don’t
want to think of, not right now.
Instead, I close my eyes and will her to find a measure of happiness, if
only in her dreams.
Chapter 15
Allie
I wake cocooned by a sturdy black wing. The heavy leather weight of it
above me and the furs wrapped tightly around me keep out any cold, as does
the firm demon body I’m pressed up against. I don’t remember coming to
bed, don’t remember Eren joining me here or pulling me to him while I slept.
Now that I’m here, though… I can’t say I hate it.
Still, a slightly sick, unsettled feeling lingers in my stomach over how
we left things last night, and the way I absolutely lost it at his revelation
about us being mates.
Mates? Goddess above, the word still sends a shiver of fear down my
spine. It’s fear that all of this is going to disappear as fast as it came, fear that
everything I’m already feeling for Eren and whatever he feels for me is only
a trick of magick and biology.
Gently, I crawl out of the nest we’ve made and scoot to the side of the
bed without waking Eren. He only shifts, wing unfurling and still-naked body
curling into the space I’ve just left. He exhales, and his face grows tight and
worried, but he doesn’t open his eyes.
Padding softly away, I ignore the slight tightening in my chest.
As I go, I glance to where the mountain stone is still open wide to the
balcony we landed on last night. There must be some kind of protection spell
in place, because even though there’s a storm raging outside this morning, the
thunder is muffled and the wind isn’t blowing in. Puzzling over it a moment
more, I shake my head and head toward the adjoining door.
In the bathroom, I use the surprisingly modern toilet and step over to the
sink to freshen up. Staring at my own naked body in the mirror, I’m struck
again at the impossibility of my same old face staring back at me. My eyes
catch on a flash of pink on the side of my throat.
Eren’s bite.
I run my fingers over the marks, much more healed than they should be
after only a few hours, and narrow my eyes as I study them.
“They heal faster because we’re mated.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I find Eren in the doorway, watching me.
He’s as nude as when I left him in bed, and I try not to let myself stare.
“That’s… good, I guess,” I say, turning back to the mirror, lifting my
chin to get a better look at them. “I suppose I shouldn’t just go around all day
with a demon hickey on my neck.”
A small smile curls Eren’s lips as he walks up to the vanity. After how
we left things last night, the sight of it sends a little ripple of relief through
me.
“Oh, but that’s where you’re mistaken,” he says, voice low. “I’d much
prefer it if you bore my mark when you walk amongst our people.”
He stops an inch away from me, and I ache to lean back into the
radiating heat of him. Uncertain, I hold his eyes in the mirror and wait, watch
as he raises one clawed finger and runs it gently over the healing marks. A
corresponding jolt tugs between my thighs.
“Goddess,” I murmur, and, unable to help myself, lean back to press up
against him.
Eren’s arms are around me a moment later, and his head bends low to
hover over the mark.
“So pretty,” he breathes, running his tongue across my punctured skin.
“You can’t imagine how exquisite you taste.”
“What do I taste like?” I ask, morbidly curious.
“Decadence,” he murmurs. “And sin. And every dark, depraved fantasy
I’ve ever had.”
Hands on my shoulders, he turns me gently and reaches down with both
hands to cup my ass before lifting me to sit on the stone countertop. Stepping
between my spread thighs, he catches my hair in a fist and tips my head back,
exposing my throat to his mercy.
When he leans down again, I can’t help the needy little whimper that
escapes me.
“Can I?” he asks, fangs pressing lightly against my neck. “I’m bringing
you to court today, and I’d have every demon in the realm know who you
belong to.”
My skin is static and starlight, humming and glowing with sensual
promise. His big, warm body against mine, his fangs at my throat, the heated
possession in his words, it all fills me up and leaves no room for doubts or
regrets or second thoughts.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
“I’ll be gentle,” he promises, right before the slow, hot slide of his fangs
sinks into my skin.
The sensation is different than when he was fucking me. Warm and
stirring, it makes it feel like my heart is expanding in my chest, like my skin
isn’t quite big enough to contain my soul. I clutch his horns, press my thighs
tighter around his waist, crush my body to his, and I’m still nowhere near
close enough to him.
Eren’s growl rumbles in his chest as he draws deeply, and the feel of
him drinking from me sends a spike of painful lust through my veins. It’s
depraved, monstrous, and I can’t get enough.
Claws sheathed, he reaches between our bodies and presses his fingers
against my damp, aching core. Finding the evidence of my arousal, another
growl rolls through him as he delves two fingers inside. The heel of his palm
rolls over my clit as he works me, and combined with the sinful invasion of
his fangs in my neck and his lips sucking down swallow after swallow of
blood, it takes nearly no time at all before I’m consumed by a fast, vicious
climax.
Eren holds me through the aftershocks, and when he pulls back, his lips
are shining as ruby red as his eyes.
I’m boneless, absolutely melted, and he holds me up as he grabs a damp
towel from the counter beside me and dabs at my neck before running it over
his lips. Placing one finger under my chin and tipping my head to the side so
he can admire his work, he makes a noise of satisfaction deep in his throat.
“Perfect.”
As it turns out, the consort of the demon king has a pretty damn nice
wardrobe. Or, at least, the dresses that Eren had someone bring up for me to
try on would suggest so.
“We’ll get you new clothes,” he says, hovering behind me as I look at
the selection of gowns some unseen staff member has laid out on the bed.
“Ones that are custom made for you.”
“I don’t know,” I say, holding an emerald green satin dress against my
body. “These seem fine.”
Eren just grunts. “No. You’ll have your own. These are only borrowed.”
And truly, who am I to argue with a demon king who just wants to give
me pretty dresses?
Seeing them spread before me, I feel a momentary pang of loss for
everything I left behind in the human realm. It’s not like I had a closet full of
designer outfits, but everything I had was mine. Picked out with care and
paid for by my librarian’s salary, some part of me already misses my small
apartment closet full of thrifted sweaters and Old Navy jeans.
I wonder if it will be my mother, or maybe Joan, who will go through
and clean out my stuff. Goddess, I hope it’s Joan. I’m pretty sure my mother
would never recover from seeing that I turned the cauldron she gave me when
I turned ten into a plant pot, or from unearthing the collection of battery
operated toys from my nightstand.
Putting the thought aside with a shudder, I focus on choosing the least
ostentatious outfit of the bunch, the one closest to something I might actually
wear in real life. The dress is a dark navy blue and made of an impossibly
soft, flowy material that hugs tightly through the bodice and falls in a swish
of skirts to the floor. It’s fancy enough to be something I might have worn to a
black-tie wedding or a solstice ball back home, if I ever actually went to
those types of events.
Holding it up against me, I turn back to my demon husband. “Will this
work?”
I’m painfully aware that I have no idea what’s expected of me today.
What’s expected of me ever, really, in the demon realm.
“This is appropriate for court,” he says with a nod. “I’ll also have them
bring some more casual clothing for when we’re in private.”
The idea that there’s now a clear delineation between my court life and
my private one makes my head spin for a moment. I stare at the rest of the
fancy clothes on the bed for a few silent moments, not seeing them.
Two big hands settle on my shoulders.
“Allie,” Eren says softly against my hair.
“Hmm?”
“I can smell your panic.”
I crane my neck around, irritated at the reminder I truly have no secrets
from him when it comes to how I’m feeling. “Well then, breathe through your
mouth.”
He presses a quick kiss on the tip of my nose. “I know this is a lot, and
you can take all the time you need to adjust. Today is just… unavoidable. My
people are worried after what happened to Emilia. I had hoped seeing us
wed and together would ease some of those tensions.”
Just like that, a lead weight settles into the bottom of my stomach.
Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I nod. “Yeah, I guess I can
understand that.”
He gives me a reassuring little squeeze. “After you’re presented, there’s
someone else I’d like you to meet today.”
“Who?”
“Her name is Vayla, and she’s a descendant of a witch-demon pairing.
She’s a sorceress, of sorts, who tends our archives and was working with
Emilia before she went back to the human realm.”
“Trying to figure out what’s wrong with the bargain?”
He nods. “They hadn’t made much progress, but I thought you should
speak to her all the same.”
“Alright,” I agree, calmed a little by having a concrete task for the day.
“I can do that.”
Silence falls between us as we go about getting dressed, me in my blue
gown and Eren in a similar pair of black leather pants to the ones he was
wearing last night. Today, though, he shrugs on a handsome coat in a deep
maroon fabric. He’s still shirtless beneath, and the jacket fits him like a
second skin.
I circle around behind him, examining the slats cut into the design to
help it fit around his wings.
“It’s easier to go shirtless,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder.
“But the king of the demon realm is expected to look like something better
than a heathen when he comes to court.”
“You still look like a heathen,” I murmur, running my hand over the
curve of one wing where it meets his back. “Like some fearsome pagan god.”
His wings flare and his muscles quiver beneath my touch, a power
waiting to be unleashed.
“Keep touching me like that and you’ll find out just how vengeful this
demon god can be.”
My belly tightens at the words, but I continue my exploration, tracing the
fine lines of muscle and sinew beneath the leathery black skin. When I lean
forward to brush my lips against a wing, Eren’s back arches and he bites out
a curse before turning and catching me to him, claiming my mouth in a sweetsavage kiss that leaves me breathless.
“Allie,” he groans against my lips. “If we had the time, I’d tie you to
this bed and keep you here for a week.”
It’s instantaneous, the spark of hunger between us. Easy and instinctual,
undeniable. Yet, even with the heat in his eyes, there’s also some lingering
uncertainty, a question that needs to be answered.
We both know we need to talk about last night.
Still, neither of us seems overly eager to broach the topic, and with
everything ahead of us today, maybe it can wait.
I wrap my arms around my demon, press my face into his neck, and
inhale deeply. The scent of wood-smoke and spice fills my lungs, and when
Eren purrs beneath my touch, something aching and unsettled quiets within
me.
“Ready?” he asks, pulling back to look at my face.
“Ready.”
Chapter 16
Eren
I’ve never been hesitant to walk amongst my court, no matter that the lot
of them are boisterous, bellowing degenerates, a credit to all of demonkind.
The realm’s nobles have always taken pride in their unruly, belligerent
attitudes, their posturing and their bluster. I can be as bad as the rest of them,
when I want to be, but having a human bride beside me with her vastly
different customs and no expectation of what’s waiting for her gives me more
than a little pause.
Giving her my arm, I lead Allie out of our chamber and into the hall
beyond. The entire inside of this mountain has been carved into a court, the
winding halls and spiraling stairs all situated around an open inner core to
allow for easy flight up and down. A layout I immediately become wellaware is completely unsuitable for my bride.
As we pause at the railing overlooking the steep drop to the formal
court spaces inside the mountain, Allie inhales sharply.
“That’s… a lot of stairs.”
And indeed, the entire place is accessible by foot, if one wants to spend
their whole day climbing up and down.
“We can create a portal system for you, to make it easier to navigate
around here,” I tell her, inspiration striking.
“Really? What kind of portals?”
“Nothing so powerful as the Veil, but demons do have a knack for
transporting themselves from one place to another.”
“Crossroads,” she murmurs. “Your people used to use them, right? To
reap?”
I nod. “We depend on ley lines in the human realm, which are always
strongest where power and people flow. Here, though, we have a little more
freedom. We can create something that will connect to the places you’ll need
to get to most, and adjust from there.”
She nods, pleased with that solution. “So, what about today? Are we
going all the way down?”
I follow her gaze over the edge and into the abyss below. “Yes, our
formal court is beneath the mountain.”
“Alright,” she says gamely, and holds out her arms. “I’m definitely not
walking.”
“Yes, your majesty,” I tell her, reaching forward and swinging her into
my arms like a bride.
Allie makes a pleased little noise as she settles into my hold, and for
about the hundredth time this morning I lament the fact that I was born a
prince. What I wouldn’t give to be someone who was free to spend time with
my mate, free to keep her locked up somewhere away from the world and
lose myself in her for days, months, years.
Instead, I kick off from the ledge and grin at her delighted, slightly
fearful squeal as we head down into the middle of the mountain. I can’t stop
my own answering chuckle or the sheer delight that courses through me at
having her near.
Our flight ends all too soon as I land us outside the entrance to the
throne room.
Two massive doors of polished ebony are set directly into the stone,
with shining obsidian handles. All across the doors, the legends of our realm
are carved in stark relief. Battles fought, souls reaped, bargains struck, and in
the heart of the left door a depiction of the first witch bride marrying her
demon.
“A demon king,” Allie murmurs, running her hand over the wood as she
examines the carving. “An ancestor of yours?”
I nod, and she smiles.
“So, does that make you a little bit human?”
“Perhaps,” I allow. “But today I’m feeling every inch a demon.”
I brush her hair back over her shoulders, exposing the wound on her
neck for all to see. Nodding to a steward who stands at the side of the room,
he steps forward and presents a black velvet case.
“As requested, your majesty,” he says before retreating to his post.
Allie arches a brow as she watches me take the case and open it. Inside,
a platinum circlet inlaid with black diamonds. I raise it and settle it on
Allie’s mahogany curls.
She looks born to wear it, though her eyes are big as saucers as she
reaches up to run a finger along the smooth metal.
“My consort,” I say, “walk with me into your new court?”
Chapter 17
Allie
I have a court.
I’m wearing a crown.
Like a demented fairytale princess, with a demon husband and two
realms to save rather than a dashing knight and some charming little sparrows
to sing me good morning and help me do my hair.
“Allie,” Eren says again, sensing my hesitation. “Are you ready?”
Nodding, I take Eren’s arm, and two other demons step forward from
the shadows on either side of the massive doors to open them for us.
The throne room is cavernous. Soaring stone walls, hanging chandeliers
whose candles drip wax stalactites, long tables on either side filled with
what looks to be at least five hundred winged demons.
Overwhelmed, I tighten my grip on Eren’s arm as the demons of the
court rise and shout greetings to us as we pass.
“A comely one, she is!”
“Marked and claimed, well met your majesty!”
“Has she any magick to spare? I’d like a taste.”
At that last comment, Eren shoots out an arm and catches the offending
demon around the neck, tossing him to the stone floor. The demon’s head
makes an unpleasant crack when it hits. I’m horrified, but all around there are
good humored laughs and jeers at the act of violence.
Eren turns back to me, a sharp grin on his face. When he sees the
stunned expression on mine, it grows even wider.
“Are you not pleased, wife? I defend your honor.”
Behind us, the demon who gave the lewd comment stirs, groans
dramatically and earns himself another round of jeers from the crowd.
Goddess above, these demons.
It’s their culture, I suppose. And mine too, now. Taking a steadying
breath, I try for an expression of bored, aloof indifference.
I shrug. “Defend it if you want. I personally wouldn’t waste the energy
on such a weak male.”
Eren’s eyes gleam, and the demons around us hoot at the insult. The
male on the floor growls and tries to rise.
“You’ll stay down, if you know what’s good for you,” Eren snaps at
him.
Straightening his coat, he takes my arm again and leads us forward up a
stone dais. At the top, a magnificent obsidian throne is flanked by
candelabras and two hanging banners emblazoned with what must be the
royal crest. Despite its opulence, a problem presents itself immediately.
“I don’t get a seat?”
Eren leans down to speak into my ear. “You get the best seat in the hall.”
I don’t have time to react before he settles himself on the throne and tugs
me into his lap. Squirming with the indignity of it, I crane my neck back and
give him a disbelieving look.
“I’m not sitting in your lap. I’m not a child.”
He stills me with a firm hand on my hip. “No, most definitely not a
child.”
His other hand tugs my hair back, exposing his bite, and he runs his
tongue over it in front of every demon in the court. It’s a claiming, base and
primal. And damn it all, it should infuriate me, make me want to slap him
away, but I’m powerless to do anything but arch against him, dig my nails
into the bare skin of his chest under the jacket.
A fresh round of lusty cheers rises from the court.
“Damn it,” I mutter. “What’s up with the bite? Why does it do that to
me?”
“It’s a mark of my claim,” he says, running his tongue over it again.
“Does it make you hot, Allie, when I remind you who you belong to?”
“Stop,” I moan. The word has no true weight behind it.
“Why?” he taunts.
“What are you going to do?” I hiss. “Fuck me in front of your court?”
“Don’t tempt me, witch.”
The place between my thighs is molten with pure need, and like he
knows the knife-edge we’re balanced on, Eren pulls back.
“Later,” he whispers against my ear.
To the rest of the court, he speaks in a booming, authoritative voice that
carries to the furthest corners of the room.
“I introduce Allison Amethyst Ashblood, witch of the Crescent Coven,
Goddess-blessed Tithe bride…” he pauses for a moment, meets my eyes and
continues, voice still booming but gaze only for me. “And my mate.”
A murmur through the crowd.
“She carries my name and my authority, and as such demands the respect
and fealty you give me.”
A wave of voices calling assent to his words.
“And Goddess willing, she brings with her a renewal of the magick
which holds this realm steady and prosperous.”
My stomach caves inward on itself at that last bit, but knowing the
importance of this moment, I do everything I can not to let it show on my
face.
A steward steps forward from the wings of the dais and hands Eren a
cup.
“A toast then, to my bride and your new Queen consort. To Allison
Ashblood.”
“To Allison Ashblood, long may she reign”
The chorus of voices is deafening, overwhelming, and I try to suppress
the renewed dread that rises in me at the thought of being responsible for the
welfare of these demons, their realm, the magick that sustains it.
Eren takes a deep drink of his cup, swallows, and kisses me. It’s deep,
carnal, shameless, and draws another round of shouts and cheers from his
court.
The clamor dies down and the hum of conversation starts back up as the
demons go back to their business, and Eren raises a lazy, imperious hand. He
motions to the crowd and a demon steps forward. Another male, with deep
brown skin and black hair that’s shaved on the sides, the top portion woven
into locs that run over his head and down his back. He’s wearing trousers
similar to Eren’s but goes shirtless, showing off a chest and arms covered in
intricate, beautiful black-line tattoos.
He bows deeply in front of us, wings spread wide.
“Felix,” Eren says. “Head of my council and pain in my ass.”
Felix grins. “An honor, majesty, to meet your new bride.”
This one seems to have better manners than the rest.
“And may I say,” Felix continues, “you’re a lucky male, to have won
such a lush, beautiful female. One who’ll no doubt give you great pleasure
and strong offspring.”
Never mind.
Eren’s growl rumbles in his chest. “Keep your eyes off her.”
Irritated enough to speak up, I glance back at my husband. “So now
people aren’t even allowed to look at me?”
“Not if they look at you with lust.”
“If that’s the case,” Felix chimes in, “you’ll have to pluck the eyes from
every demon in the realm.”
It’s by far the strangest compliment I’ve ever received, but seems to
please Eren as I feel him relax a little beneath me.
“What business do we have today?” Eren asks him.
“Petitioners, as always,” Felix says. “And I’ve summoned Vayla, as
requested.”
Something sparks in the other demon’s eyes at the comment. I’m not sure
if it’s amusement or challenge; demon emotions are still a little hard for me
to read.
“What say you, wife?” Eren says into my ear. “Would you like to stay
here as my distraction while I tend to the business of my court, or tuck
yourself away in the archives?”
I snort. “I think I’d rather be useful.”
“I find great use in having you here.” His hand comes down to cup my
breast over my dress and I slap it away.
“Beast,” I mutter.
“Yes,” he says, wholly unashamed.
He gives another wave and the crowd parts again. A female who I can
only assume is Vayla steps forward. She seems mostly demon, but with a
distinctly human softness in her features. She has pale skin, blue eyes, and
raven-black hair that falls in a straight curtain almost to her waist. Her wings
are tucked in tight, and the horns that curl back from her head are thinner and
more intricately spiraled than Eren’s. She’s beautiful.
“Majesties,” she says with a dip of her head.
“Vayla,” Eren says, “May I introduce you to my wife, Allison
Ashblood.”
“A pleasure,” the demon says with a placid smile that doesn’t reach her
eyes. “How may I be of service?”
Whether Eren notices her frosty greeting, I’m not certain, but he doesn’t
show it in his reaction to her. I cut a glance to Felix, and for a moment, all the
boisterous teasing has left his eyes. He’s looking at Vayla with a quiet
contemplation on his face, one he quickly smothers with a smirk when he
catches me staring.
“I would like you to show Allison to the archives,” Eren says, “and
walk through the work you were doing with Emilia around the bargain and
the Veil.”
“Of course,” Vayla responds, tone even softer and cooler. “I would be
honored. Does the queen consort wish to see the archives now?”
“She does,” I interject, not comfortable being spoken about as if I
weren’t sitting right here. “Thank you for your kind offer.”
Vayla only inclines her head, taking a few steps back and waiting for me
to follow. I look at Eren, and his hand tightens on my hip.
“You’ll send word if you need anything?” he asks.
There’s a crowd of demons waiting at the back of the hall, the
petitioners Felix mentioned earlier. I shrug. “It seems like you’re going to
have a busy day.”
Eren tugs me closer. “And there’s no duty in this realm that could keep
me from your side if you have need of me.”
“I’m going to have to learn to function on my own here,” I retort.
“Besides, I’m sure I can handle a day in a library. Unless you’re going to
spring a horde of demon children on me to tear books down from the shelves
and wipe their sticky little fingers all over the pages?”
“Off with you, then,” he says, licking his bite again.
Giving me a little boost up, I’m still knock-kneed from his attention to
his claim mark, and glare over my shoulder at him. He looks pleased as ever
as I regain my composure and follow Vayla out of the hall.
Chapter 18
Allie
Leaving the throne room with Vayla, I do everything I can to look as calm
and collected on the outside as I'm feeling scattered and afraid on the inside.
There’s nothing but nods of respect and faint calls of good wishes as we
go, but it might as well be jeers and shouts with the havoc it wreaks on my
soul. All these people—these demons—looking at me with hope in their eyes
and kind words on their lips like I might be the answer to their prayers. It
makes the weight in my chest get heavier and the sharp fear in my gut more
pointed as I realize just how many will be affected when my laughable bit of
magick can’t do anything to make an actual difference.
In contrast, I’m almost thankful for Vayla’s surly silence.
Eren mentioned she’s some sort of sorceress. Maybe she’s already got a
beat on my magick, or lack thereof, and she’s irritated she has to waste her
time on me. Or maybe she’s just a grumpy asshole. Whatever the case, I’m
glad for the distraction.
Vayla’s got at least four inches on me, so keeping up with her longer
strides is a challenge as we make our way from the throne room. We leave
through a side door that branches off into another corridor leading deeper
into the mountain. The corridor breaks off into another, and another, all of
which Vayla navigates with practiced ease.
The further we go, the more certain I am that I’d be hopelessly lost if I
tried to make my way back through this labyrinth. The stone hallways are
wide enough to accommodate wings, but seem to split and branch off at
random intervals to burrow deeper in to the mountain. Passageways are lit by
torches and burning wall sconces, casting the dark gray walls and floors in
warm orange light.
We pass a few more demons as we go. Almost without fail, their eyes
jump from Vayla to me to gawk. More greetings, more smiles, more hopeful
expressions that settle themselves like stones in the bottom of my stomach.
Finally, after what feels like twenty minutes of walking, we begin to
climb a long, gently sloped staircase. The wide stone steps are cut more like
terraces into the tunnel, taking three strides each to walk up, and by the time
we make it to a set of double doors at the top, my thighs and ass are burning
with the strain of it.
“The archives,” Vayla says simply as she opens the door.
I follow her inside and my jaw immediately drops.
Like so much I’ve seen of this court beneath the mountain, this place is a
wonder. Stepping into the room, I inhale the deep, familiar scents of
parchment and ink, sweet dust and leather. The first room we enter is a huge,
circular chamber with ceilings cut at least thirty feet high into the mountain
above, cavernous and echoing with our footsteps. The space is edged in floor
to ceiling bookcases stuffed to the gills with thousands of handsomely bound
books. There are a handful of tables in the center of the room, and the space
is lit by a fire along the back wall and candles dispersed throughout.
After taking a few steps inside, I have to stop and stare open-mouthed at
my surroundings.
My fingers are already itching to reach out and touch, faint stirrings of
magick beneath my skin calling toward all those spines and bindings and
pages.
Vayla, however, isn’t in the mood to play tour guide.
“Through here,” she calls back over her shoulder.
At one side of the room, an archway leads into an adjoining chamber.
Vayla barely pauses before striding toward it, leaving me almost no time to
gape in awe at all these books. I follow her with a pang of regret, hoping I’ll
get the time to come back. I could spend hours right here, browsing through
this demon library.
We pass through a room filled with hanging maps and a wide table in
the center carved with what I can only assume is a topographical layout of
the demon realm. It’s intricately designed and painted, the mountains and
rivers and wide grassy plains depicted in vibrant colors. In one corner of the
room there’s a complex model of spheres held aloft on metal arms, intricate
gears and movable parts. An orrery, I think I remember it being called—a
wonderfully crafted model of star systems.
Even that apparently isn’t enough of a reason to stop.
Vayla presses on, opening a door at the side of the room and letting in an
unexpected beam of daylight.
“This way,” she says curtly, nodding into the room.
The next chamber is unmistakably a witch’s workshop. It’s so
reminiscent of the one my mother used to keep in the house I grew up in that I
have to pause for a second in the doorway.
Muted light streams in from a glass wall opposite the door. Blinking and
letting my eyes adjust, I realize what it is. A greenhouse, cut right into the
side of the mountain.
Vayla finally stops and crosses to one of the workbenches, flipping
through a pile of papers there. I take advantage of her distraction to wander
over the glass wall, peering in at a haphazardly organized tangle of greenery.
A few plants I recognize—wolfsbane, rue, belladonna—others, though, are
completely unfamiliar. High above, a domed glass ceiling lets in the watery
gray light beneath the lingering storm clouds.
“This is where I do most of my work.”
I turn around to see Vayla studying me. Here, standing in a more natural
light than the candlelit great hall or the dim of the corridor, it’s easier to mark
her as different than most of the other demons.
Vayla’s facial features are more refined, her horns softer and more
delicate. Instead of glowing ember red, her eyes are a startling, icy blue.
She’s lovely, some strange mix of demon and human and her own unique kind
of beauty.
“You’re a witch?” I ask, looking at the varied equipment in the room.
Smack in the center, a large iron cauldron dominates the space. Herbs
and flowers and various foliage hang in bundles from the ceiling. Worktables
are scattered with open books, scales, knives, candlestubs, and endless vials
and bottles of oils and ingredients. Even more line the shelves along the side
walls, and the air in the room hangs heavy with mingled botanical spice,
notes of ash and woodsmoke, and the distinct metallic scent of witching.
“Sorceress,” she corrects, “is our word for it. Though one of my
ancestors was a witch.”
“Does that make you related to Eren?” I ask, remembering the carving of
the first witch and her demon on the doors into the great hall.
Vayla shakes her head. “My great-grandmother was married to a
merchant. No witch has wed the king of the demon realm since the first.”
Not sure how I’m supposed to respond to that, I turn to the table nearest
to me and glance down at the book propped open on a small wooden stand.
Narrowing my eyes, I try to make out the language. The letters are… almost
familiar, the shape of them reminding me of some of the oldest written
records of pagan rituals I’d once gotten the chance to examine. The writing is
elegant, truly an art form itself, and the longer I stare, the more something
stirs in me, the faintest hint of understanding blooming in my blood.
I raise a hand unconsciously to touch the page when Vayla takes a few
quick steps toward me, snapping the book shut.
Startled, I pull back. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
The words die in my throat at the hard look on her face.
“Sorry,” I say again.
Vayla’s features don’t soften a bit as she takes a step away, bracing both
her hands on one of the tables. “How is Emilia?”
The question catches me completely off-guard. “I… I don’t really know.
She’s being taken care of by the coven elders, but I haven’t spoken to her.”
“Aren’t you from the Crescent Coven?”
“I am.”
“So why haven’t you spoken to her?”
“I really don’t know her all that well, and I don’t spend a lot of time
with the coven.”
She looks at me like she’s expecting me to say more, but with as rude as
she’s being, I have no intention of giving her my entire life history.
“Eren told me you and Emilia were working together to find some way
to renew the magick of the bargain,” I say instead. “He wanted us to pick up
where you left off.”
“How am I supposed to—” she breaks off, throwing me another hard
look. “You barely have any magick.”
The silence of a tomb falls in the room and a cold, clammy sweat breaks
out on my hands and the back of my neck.
If she can sense it, I wonder how many of the demons back in Eren’s
throne room could. Are they talking about it, even now? Whispering what a
shame it is to have another defective witch in their midst? If what Eren said
last night is any indication, his people are probably already frightened,
concerned for what comes next if the magick isn’t renewed.
How will they react, knowing what little power I possess?
It’s just another reminder that even though the Goddess might have
chosen me to marry Eren and come to this realm, it doesn’t change how
hopeless I am. No matter what I might feel about fate and being chosen and
all the rest of it, the fact still stands I’m pretty much powerless. I always
have been, and I always will be.
Part of me just wants to drown in this self-pity, let it have me entirely. It
would be easy to give into it, to hide away somewhere in this vast
underground palace and give up before I’ve even tried. Goddess knows that
no one back in the human realm is expecting anything from me. They’re
probably already hedging their bets on how long I take to return. Six months?
No, that’s giving me too much credit. I’m not half the witch Emilia was… is.
It’s the thought of her that sends a small, determined spark of
stubbornness through me.
The Goddess chose us both for some unknown reason. I can’t even
pretend to understand it, but I can’t give up, not yet. Not for myself, not for
her, and not for both our realms. Not even if I have a surly demon sorceress
reminding me what an utterly hopeless case I am.
Drawing up as much courage as I can, I straighten my spine and meet
Vayla’s judging stare head-on.
“I’m still the one the Goddess chose. And I’m here. I never expected to
be, and I don’t know why it happened, but I’m willing to work with you if
you’re willing to put aside whatever problem you seem to have with me.”
My words don’t seem to get any reaction from her, at least not right
away. She stares at me for a few long moments before shaking her head and
crossing to a small bookshelf near the door of the workshop. Grabbing a
tome off the shelf, she brings it back to where I’m standing and sets it down
on the table in front of me, flipping it open to a page near the middle.
“This is the last book Emilia and I were working on.”
Realizing she’s not going to offer any other explanation, I lean down and
study the lines of neat, handwritten script.
“It’s the same language as that one,” I say, nodding back to the book she
snapped shut a few minutes ago. “May I?”
I hover a hand over the page and she gives me a questioning look.
“May you what?”
“Touch it,” I say, and realize a moment later how strange that probably
sounds. “My magick has to do with books and languages. I can sometimes
sense things about a book by touching it.”
Vayla gives me another long, unreadable look. “A book witch. Never
heard of that kind before.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, fully at the end of my patience for her attitude. “We
don’t pick the gifts we’re born with.”
Not waiting any longer for her permission, I lay my hand on the page
and close my eyes. At first, there’s nothing but the smooth, cool feel of the
parchment beneath my fingers, and I’m about to draw away in disappointment
when it hits me.
Magick, like I’ve never felt before.
It crashes over me like a wave, taking all my senses with it, and for a
few moments I’m suspended somewhere outside my body.
In that darkness, the whispers and echoes of millennia curl around me in
a gentle caress. Soft voices beckon me, shapes and shadows and indistinct
writing flashes behind my shut eyelids.
There are a thousand secrets in this ether, a winding maze of knowledge
I can barely even start to understand. It comes faster that I can process at
first, and even when I’m able to latch on to bits and pieces of it, it becomes
immediately clear that I have no idea what language I’m looking at.
There’s no sense in the words, nothing I can process or even closely
relate to any other written languages I’ve studied. Still, I can’t help but
marvel at all of it.
I can’t help but marvel at myself as well.
Even though I can’t decipher the words, my heart aches in my chest at
the feeling of being utterly unbound. In these few brief moments, I’m cracked
open completely. The pure, raw power flowing through me is entirely
unfamiliar, yet at the same time it feels like coming home.
It’s the power I was always meant to find.
With a jolt and a firm hand at my shoulder, I’m drawn back to the
witch’s workshop below the mountain. I take a few stumbling steps back
from the table, wide-eyed and panting.
“What was that?” Vayla asks. “What happened to you?”
I can only shake my head, still reeling from the sensation of magick
sliding over my skin, through my blood. My hands tingle, the fine hairs on my
arms and the back of my neck stand on end. My breath is coming hard and
fast in my chest, and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this alive.
“Allison,” Vayla says again with absolutely no sympathy in her voice.
“You look like you’re going to pass out. What happened?”
She’s right. I’m still breathing too hard, too fast, and I realize for the
first time that I’m shaking. Staggering back onto one of the workbench stools,
I press a hand against my chest, trying to get a hold of myself.
“The book,” I say finally. “It was… I was… I could see what’s inside
it.”
“And?” Vayla asks, apparently not concerned enough to give me a few
seconds to breathe before interrogating me. “What did it say?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t read the words.”
She lets out an exasperated breath, turning back to the book on the table
and placing her own hand on it, like she’d rather believe it was the book’s
magick and not my own that just catapulted me into some strange liminal
space between its pages.
“Do you read the language?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “That’s what we were working on. This language
is extinct in this realm and in yours. We think there might be something here
about the spell the first witch cast to seal the bargain, something that might
help it be recast or renewed.”
I nod, a plan taking shape in my mind. Languages, I can learn. The faint
mental click of understanding settles into place, taking some of the heaviness
and worry with it, but leaving an all-new sadness in its place.
Maybe this is why I’m here.
I know I’ll never be able to cast a spell like what she’s talking about.
There’s no part of me that believes I’m capable of what I’m sure is powerful,
soul-deep magick that could restore the bargain and balance all that power
between realms. Maybe, though, I can translate. Maybe I can last in this
realm long enough to uncover the information that will give the next Tithe
bride the chance to recast the spell. That has to be it. That has to be why the
Goddess brought me here, the part I have to play in all of this.
Even as it all starts to make sense, a sudden pang of panic and fear
moves through me at the thought.
What happens to Eren when I can’t stay here any longer?
I can’t think about it. I can’t let myself dwell on the fact that the clock’s
already ticking and my days in the demon realm are likely numbered.
Standing from the chair, I brace my hands on my hips and give Vayla a
hard, determined smile.
“I want to see every book in the library that’s written in this language.”
Chapter 19
Eren
Watching Allie walk from my court is like watching a queen born to her
station. There’s an undeniable grace in my little witch, a strength and
fortitude she wears like armor despite the lingering scent of her fear and
uncertainty.
Felix appears by my side a moment later, watching her go.
“My congratulations,” he says quietly, all traces of earlier humor gone
from his voice. “A rare thing, to have found your mate. I wish you both
nothing but the best as you navigate this trying time.”
I nod at him in pure, grim understanding.
For anyone amongst demonkind, finding a mate is the highest joy, the
greatest wish we might receive in our lifetime. Having Allie here, by my
side, in my bed, bound to me by word and magick, is nothing short of
miraculous. But having her here with no guarantee she’ll be able to stay, no
idea what our joint future holds, is nearly unthinkable.
To lose her now would break me.
Felix was here the day it was decided that Emilia was to be sent back.
He heard Sylas’s anguished roar when she stepped back through the Veil—
the two of them not mates, but the loss keenly felt. More than her magick left
the realm that day, she took Sylas’s heart with her.
I wonder now if I was looking into my own future in that moment.
Felix reaches out and claps me on the shoulder. “One day is not enough
indication at which way the tide will turn.”
All I can manage in response to his words is another nod.
“In the meantime,” he continues, “there are about a hundred courtiers
who would have your ear this morning.”
“Yes,” I say, letting the familiar mantle of my position fall over me,
discarding the unwanted dread and setting aside my anxiety over the state of
my future with Allie for the moment. “Yes, let’s get on with it.”
The morning is filled with pain and strife from my subjects. Many of the
petitioners ask for more grain to fill their depleted stores, for workmen from
the capital to come and help rebuild roads and cities battered by the frequent,
ever more violent storms that have rolled over the lands these last few
months. So much pain in their faces, such weariness, an air of desperation
that permeates court and courtiers both until all good humor and levity from
the new queen consort’s arrival has fled.
Through it all, I sit stoic and steady at the head of the court. It’s been my
role since my father’s death to be the calming presence, the level head, even
as the news my subjects bring me fills my soul with dread and draws emotion
up to sit uncomfortably at the back of my throat.
It’s not for a king to show outward turmoil, or to cry when his kingdom
sorrows, but to lead them through such sorrow with strength and resolve. It’s
what my father did for all the years of his reign, what this realm demands
from its leader.
It’s been this way for years, since the day my father died and I inherited
this throne. I’ve handled the business of the court, the realm, all on my own.
Felix and my other advisors all help in their way, but the weight and
responsibility of leadership have always fallen squarely on my shoulders.
To be fair, it’s never been as hard to carry out my role as it has been this
past year.
Never have my people suffered such hardship. Never have I been at
such a complete loss at what to do to help them. I’ve tried, Goddess knows
I’ve tried, to put out fires as they ignite, to staunch the wounds of a bleeding
kingdom to little avail. Bandage fixes are not like to help when you’re in the
midst of a vicious battle for survival.
It’s hours later, when I’ve heard and granted numerous petitions for
assistance, done all my position of power and authority afford me to relieve
some of their suffering and triage the damage, when a lull in the steady
stream of requests has me slumping subtly back in my chair.
My blood feels like ice.
It’s not unexpected, not after all these months. Rather than allow each
individual horror chip away at me, I’ve instead let them steel and inure me
against the despair. I’ve let them fuel my resolve to do what it takes, anything
it takes, to press on. It’s easier that way. Easier to face it, easier to fix it.
And, being so alone, I’ve carried that same pervasive ice over into my
personal life.
It started without my truly recognizing it. The end of a three-year
relationship with a female I once thought would be my queen. More nights
spent alone, the slow realization that I’d somehow wound up with no
listening ear to share my burdens with at the end of the day. I’d spent years in
a slow slide to loneliness, and by the time I realized I was there, it seemed
far too late to do anything about it.
Strange, how only a few days ago I had thought myself alright with the
state of my life. I’d reasoned away the regret, settled into what I thought was
noble solitude, dedicated wholly to my duty at the expense of my heart.
Now, however, with Allie in my life, that same heart yearns for more.
We barely know each other. The weight of everything our union is
supposed to represent and accomplish is still hanging over us like a
headsman’s ax. There are no guarantees that she’ll even be able to stay if the
magick deteriorates further.
Even so, my soul aches for her like it’s never ached for anything.
She believes it’s meaningless, this yearning. She believes it has nothing
to do with her, that it’s only a quirk of biology and magick that draws me to
her and makes me absolutely certain that in any of the thirteen realms, we
would have been fated to find one another. No matter where her soul resided,
I was meant to find it. Now I only have to convince her of that truth.
The lull in requests for my attention gives me unwanted time to think, to
worry, and I’m only drawn back to the present by the sound of approaching
footsteps.
“A pause for a late lunch, I think,” Felix says as he makes his way up
the dais stairs. “And perhaps a visit to your bride down in the archives?”
I glance to the back of the room where the waiting petitioners have
thinned.
“I’ll come with to occupy Vayla,” he continues, grin stretching wide.
“So the two of you have ample time and privacy to discuss whatever she’s
been studying down there all morning.”
I’ve no doubts he’ll more likely vex and irritate Vayla, but the idea of
stealing a few moments alone with Allie is too good to pass up. Standing on
bones that creak and muscles that ache from sitting so long and so still on my
throne, Felix arches a brow as I stretch a bit, flex my wings behind me.
“Feeling your age, majesty?”
I grunt my dissatisfaction as we walk side-by-side from the room. I
don’t intend to humor his remark with a response.
“And how old is your bride? For a human, she looks quite young.
Perhaps she’ll lend a little of her youth to you in your old age.”
“Enough, Felix,” I tell him, aiming for a curt tone that lands somewhat
off-target.
No, I can’t help the corners of my mouth from turning up. I can’t help the
smile that wants to break through the pall of my concerns at just the thought of
her.
Rolling my shoulders and striding from the hall, I head off to find my
witch.
Chapter 20
Allie
The language is a beast. Just when I think I’ve started to make heads or
tails of the basics and attempt to translate a section of the text, I come across
a series of characters that make absolutely no sense and send me back to
square one.
I spend the rest of the morning and a large part of the early afternoon
hunched over a desk in the workroom, books spread around me and papers
strewn over the wooden surface. Vayla works on some concoction, and other
than her shooting me dark looks when I grumble or curse over another failed
attempt at unlocking even a small part of the language, we leave each other
well enough alone.
It’s a strangely comfortable atmosphere, even with her critical attitude
and our weirdly adversarial relationship.
I’ve never worked alongside another witch like this. Or, at least not
since I was fourteen and my mother decided to send me to non-magick high
school instead of letting me take up one of the coven’s coveted spots for
advanced tutelage and mentorship. Magickal boarding school, basically,
reserved for each year’s batch of witches who the coven elders deemed to
show the greatest power and promise.
It will look like nepotism, my mother had said when she explained why
I wasn’t given a spot. It will harm the coven’s confidence in me.
It was easy enough to hear the part she didn’t say.
You’re not powerful enough. Even having a High Priestess for a
mother isn’t enough to justify your place with the other witches.
I don’t begrudge her for that, at least not now with the benefit of years
and hindsight. If I had been given a spot, there would have been no doubt it
was only because of her. It would have taken the opportunity away from a
witch who deserved it more. Still, just because I can understand that now
doesn’t completely erase the memory of the hurt.
Instead of joining the other witches in their training, I waited outside our
house each morning—built on a little plot of land next to the coven’s
headquarters—and watched the other girls head in for their studies. I
watched my mother join them as I climbed on the bus for the hour-long ride
to the high school, and each day I did it chipped at me a little bit more. It was
a constant reminder that I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t talented enough to earn
myself a place in that world.
I’d made friends at the high school. I’d still had Joan, whose magick of
tea and kindness and gentle intuition hadn’t earned her a spot, either.
Together, we’d made the best of it. After graduating, I’d gone to regular
college for my library sciences degree, moved to a new town to start my
career, and after a while it hadn’t stung so much. Hundreds of cups of tea in
Joan’s tea shop, learning to put myself out there and make friends outside the
coven, coming to terms with the fact of who I was and learning to accept the
magick I’d been born with—all of it had slowly let me build a little life I
was proud of.
A life I am proud of, even if all it took was one night, one command
from the Goddess, and one very handsome demon to see it all come tumbling
down.
No. Not tumbling down. More like tumbling sideways into some other
reality I can’t quite grasp yet. The life I had and the one I’ve stepped into feel
like oil and water, and with no way to reconcile or combine them, I guess all
I can do is keep moving forward. Starting with this language.
After a while, I stop trying to find any similarities between this language
and any that I’m used to, and just start trying to piece through patterns in the
symbols.
Each letter—or glyph, I’m still not really certain—is beautiful.
Elegant lines and graceful arcs, the symbols flow like water across the
page. There’s a strange prickling in the back of my mind as I study book after
book, a sensation not unlike the irritating awareness that you’ve forgotten
something you ought to remember. It stays with me throughout the morning,
and even when I try to close my eyes and chase it down to the far corners of
my mind, it eludes me. All pursuing it does is give me the beginnings of a
wicked headache.
Even so, some part of me is undeniably thrilled to be putting my magick
to use. It sets me into an almost trance-like focus. I don’t let my hands linger
long enough on the pages to pull me back in, but the soft tug of magick
whispers over my skin each time I skim the corner of a page to turn it. As
much as I want to let myself back in, dive deep into whatever strange space
the first book showed me, I don’t yet dare.
Touching the book and sending myself into that abyss is a neat trick, but
with no idea how to translate what I’m seeing and no certainty I’d be able to
pull myself safely back out of whatever I stumble into, it’s probably better to
play it safe.
Even if denying that tantalizing pull of power doesn’t make my day any
easier.
It hovers there all throughout the morning and afternoon. A faint whisper
of magick reaching over to curl around the edges of my mind, tug at my
fingers with phantom tendrils. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away.
Frustrated, stressed, irritated at my lack of progress, I completely miss the
sound of the workroom door opening and closing softly behind me.
A pair of large, warm hands settle on my shoulders, making me jump
and let out a little yelp. Losing my balance and almost falling off the stool
I’m perched on, I’m pulled back into Eren’s embrace. His low chuckle in my
ear reverberates up and down my spine.
“Careful, wife,” he says, low and laughing. He moves the cup of tea I’d
been sipping away from me. “You wouldn’t want to spill this and ruin all
your work.”
Vayla, who’s been absorbed in her work for the last hour, startles as
well. She bows low when she sees Eren standing behind me.
“Majesty,” she says, perfectly gracious. She even smiles.
I stifle a snort. Sure, now she can be polite.
“Vayla,” Eren says, all smooth kingliness. Scratch that, all smooth,
incredibly hot kingliness. “If you wouldn’t mind giving us a few minutes of
privacy?”
She nods and leaves the room immediately.
I can barely contain my eye roll as she goes, and Eren’s sharp gaze
doesn’t miss it.
“What is it?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“Allie,” he pushes. “Tell me.”
Instead of answering, I swivel around on the stool to face him. Resting
both my elbows on the table so I can lean back and get a better look at him, I
almost wish I’d stayed facing forward with my nose in a book.
Goddess above, he’s handsome.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it. Even staring at me with a hint of
concern on his face, he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I wasn’t
joking when I called him a pagan god this morning—it’s not a stretch to
imagine one of his kind inspiring fear and worship, and not just in ancient
cultures. Part of me wants to drop to my knees in supplication just from
looking at him.
Picking up on the flare of color in my cheeks, the way my chest rises
and falls a bit unsteadily as I study him, the corners of Eren’s mouth turn up
in a dark, erotic smile.
“Little witch, looking at me like that isn’t going to make me forget that
I’ve asked you a question.”
“No?” I ask innocently.
“No.”
Unable to help myself, I reach out and touch the bare skin beneath his
jacket. I’d forgotten how hot he runs, how firm his muscles are beneath my
hand. Those muscles bunch and twitch as I run my fingers over him in a slow
caress.
Eren reaches up to still my hand. “Enough of that. Tell me what’s
happened since you came down here with Vayla.”
A sudden, sour pang runs through me at the sound of her name on his
lips and I have to check myself. What the hell? Since when am I jealous of
my man… er, demon… just talking about another woman? Tossing the
irrational envy aside, I take a deep breath.
“I barely know where to start.”
“At the beginning works for me.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Such sass,” he murmurs, reaching up to stroke his clawed thumb over
my bottom lip.
The sharp-edged, slightly threatening feel of it does things to me. Like,
really does things to me. A warmth spreads through my lower belly, curving
around the bottom of my spine in a liquid caress.
“You better answer me, Allie,” Eren says, voice still silky soft and
taunting. “You’re giving me too many ideas of how I might correct that
impertinence.”
He withdraws his hand, takes a couple of steps back, and sinks onto a
stool across from me. Arms crossed over his chest, he sits and waits like he
has all the time in the world.
Realizing he’s not going to touch me until I give him what he wants, I
huff out a breath and start explaining. Consciously, I leave out all the parts
about Vayla’s attitude and my own snappishness in return. We can sort out our
own shit.
A few minutes later, when I’m on to the part about looking through the
library’s other books in the unfamiliar language, Eren comes to hover over
my shoulder and look at the books and papers scattered on the desk in front
of me.
“You think you can translate it?” he asks, running a hand over one of the
pages.
“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
“I’ll put the word out. Perhaps there’s someone in one of our other cities
or libraries who’s studied this language.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, spinning around and infinitely gratified to find
him back within touching distance. “I appreciate that.”
If I stop to think about it for too long, it might strike me as a little strange
—how eager I am to be near him after not even having spent a full day as
his… what? Wife, consort, mate?
There’s still so much I don’t know about him, still so much hanging over
our heads, still so much we have to discuss regarding everything that’s
happened between us in the last twenty-four hours. Right at the moment,
though, something else is much, much more interesting.
I unfasten the button holding the front of his maroon jacket together and
slide my hands beneath the fabric. Wrapping them around his waist, I tug him
toward me and lean my face against him. He comes to me without a moment
of hesitation.
His purr kicks up at my touch. Faint, like he’s trying to smother it, but
it’s there.
“Allie,” he says, voice low and graveled. “You haven’t told me about
the tension between you and Vayla.”
“It’s nothing,” I say, meaning it. I’m much more interested in the woodsmoke and spice of his skin than I am in talking about the beautiful demon
female with the bad attitude.
“It’s not nothing.” All that graveled huskiness is shot through with a
growl. “If I need to speak with her about—”
“Don’t,” I say quickly, pulling away a few inches to look up at him.
“Really, please don’t. Let me handle it. If I need your help, I’ll ask for it.”
Vayla’s truly the least of my worries at the moment. I’ll get to the bottom
of why she’s so sour toward me, or I won’t. Part of me knows that I probably
won’t be here long enough for it to matter either way.
“Wife,” Eren says in a growl. “This is not up for discussion. Tell me.”
Arrogant, obstinate demon.
“I can handle myself, you know,” I say, a bit of a snap in my tone.
“Oh,” he says, voice dropping low as he reaches out to cup his hand
over my jaw. “I’m sure you can.”
Whether he can pick up on my abrupt change in mood, or whether he just
wants to distract me from the frustration of trying to translate and everything I
refuse to say about what’s happened between Vayla and me, I’m not sure.
What I am sure of is that as soon as his hand has curled around the
bottom of my chin, that familiar, delicious heat rises in me again. It pushes
outwards, filling up my blood and bones and soul until there’s no more room
for my doubts and fears.
His touch on my skin is all it takes to bring me eagerly to my feet. I
don’t know whether he leans in first, or I do, but his lips are on mine a
moment later in a firm, devouring kiss that leaves me breathless. In the
middle of it, he pushes the books on the table aside, grabs my ass in both his
hands and lifts me up onto the tabletop. I wrap my legs around him
instinctively, keeping him close.
“There’s something you denied me last night, witch,” he says, breaking
the kiss to bite at my bottom lip. “I mean to have it.”
Before I can guess what he means, Eren drops to kneel on the braided
rug beneath the table. He grabs me under the knees and pulls me forward
until my ass is perched right on the edge.
“Eren!” I protest. “Someone is going to hear.”
“Let them.”
The dress slides like water up my calves and thighs until it’s pooled
around my hips. Eren must not have gotten a good look at the underthings his
staff left for me, because the groan of surprise he lets out when he sees the
little, cream-colored lace underwear sounds like it comes from the bottom of
his soul.
“These are a sin,” he says, running his thumb up my slit over the lace.
“Pure, filthy sin.” His mouth follows, tongue tracing the already damp fabric
and molding it against me. “Who gave you permission to wear lace after
what I did to the last pair?”
I buck against him. “I don’t need your permission.”
Eren’s red eyes gleam up at me from between my thighs. “And I don’t
need your permission to shred these indecent little things.”
“You wouldn’t,” I breathe.
His hands grip my thighs, claws pressing dangerously into my skin.
“You want to bet on that, witch?”
“Yes,” I say, and he gives me a little swat between my legs. The
delicious, stinging surprise of it makes me yelp. “I don’t think you’d like it if
I walked around all day with nothing between me and any random demon I
come across but the thin skirt of this dress.”
Eren growls, and there’s no playfulness in the sound. He gives my pussy
another little spank and I can’t help but cry out, the sweet sting sending bolts
of fire through me.
“Off,” he commands. “Take them off, now.”
Scrambling, clumsy hands make quick work of them. As soon as their
dealt with, Eren lowers his face back between my legs and takes a long, slow
lick up the very center of me. One hand braced behind me on the table, I
bring the other to one of his horns, holding him tighter to me as I arch up and
cry out.
“That’s it,” he murmurs into my core. “Just like that, little witch.”
I let out a strangled sob when he draws my clit between his lips and
sucks, hard. And when I feel the slight press of a fang against the toosensitive flesh right beside it, it’s all I can do to keep from screaming with
the pleasure-pain of it.
“I could bite you here,” Eren taunts, running the tip of his tongue along
the place his fang’s just been to soothe the small hurt. Back and forth, he
plays with my clit and the delicate hood above it. His tongue’s slightly longer
and narrower than a human’s and he’s putting it to full, glorious use as he
teases me. “I didn’t think there could be anything sweeter than your blood,
but it would seem that I’m mistaken.”
To emphasize his point, he lowers that teasing tongue back down to dip
into me. The noises he’s making are borderline obscene—wet and pleased
and carnal—as he takes his time savoring me.
“Would you like that, Allie?”
I can only look down at him bleary-eyed and body stretched tight with
my building orgasm. For the absolute life of me, I can’t even remember what
he’s asking about.
“Wh-what?”
I feel his answering chuckle along every place his lips and tongue are
touching me.
“Would you like me to bite you here?”
Another press of that fang into my skin, and I have to drop back against
the table and clutch a hand over my mouth to keep my scream from slipping
out.
“Yes,” I moan through my fingers.
“Yes, what, little witch?”
“Yes, I want you to… I want you to bite me. Right there.”
The words are barely out when he bites down slowly, so carefully, and
there’s only a momentary sting before ecstasy floods me. I come hard,
pressing shamelessly into his mouth and demanding every bit of pleasure he
seems more than eager to give.
And there, just on the heels of the wracking shudders, is a wave of
something else. It’s like starlight and crackling embers, the soft smell of an
open book and damp earth after a rainstorm.
Entirely capable of forming the coherent thought to guess at what it is, I
let my body fall slack and drink in the delicious sensation of the moment.
Chapter 21
Eren
Allie is still coming down from her peak, body limp and trembling under
my hands, when I catch the first hint of it in the air. I’m nearly unmanned by
the dampness of her still coating my lips and the small bit of blood I drew
from her lingering on my tongue, but another sharp, unexpected scent pushes
it all to the side.
Petrichor. The crisp smell of a late summer rain, the charged
atmosphere of a storm about to break, the unmistakable aroma of pure
magick.
Allie’s magick.
“Little witch,” I whisper, awed at the strength of it. “You’re bathing me
in magick.”
“Hmmm?” she murmurs drowsily, not lifting her head from where it
rests on the table.
I chuckle, shifting forward onto my feet so I can lean over her. I run my
nose up the column of her throat and back down again, pausing at the little
divot at the base of her neck where her pulse pounds hard and fast against her
skin.
“Your magick,” I tell her before running my tongue along the groove.
“It’s intoxicating.”
Inhaling deeply, I savor every note. It seems impossible that I didn’t
pick up on it in the forest at once last night. Though not as forward and
forceful as the witchmagick I’ve encountered before, it’s potent and
unmistakable, surprisingly gentle as it wends its way down into my lungs.
I’d breathe it for a lifetime, if I could.
Allie’s eyes flutter open, still glazed over with pleasure. The raw,
primal pride in seeing her so undone, still quivering slightly with the
aftermath of her orgasm, is almost enough to have me freeing myself from my
trousers and pushing her liquid silk gown up around her waist. I could be in
her in ten seconds flat, pushing back into the hot, slick place that already
feels like home.
I want nothing more, but I’m not sure I even deserve to find my own
pleasure. Remembering her tears last night, the way she left our bed this
morning without waking me, how upset she was at learning we’re mates, all
of it still feels like fresh cuts across my heart and heavy shame in my soul.
There’s a conversation we need to have, probably more than one, but
damned if I know how to start it.
“You can sense my magick?”
Her words draw me back to the present. “I could always sense it.”
A little line of skepticism appears between her brows, and my lips itch
to kiss it away.
“No, you couldn’t. You didn’t know me at first, when you came through
the Veil.”
The soft words send another pang of guilt and regret straight down to the
center of my gut. No, I hadn’t recognized her at first. Disoriented at being in a
new realm, overwhelmed by the scent of so much witchmagick in the air
around me, I hadn’t been able to find her. At least not right away.
“I knew you were there,” I say, hoping to assuage some of her concern.
“From the moment I stepped through the Veil, I knew my mate was
somewhere there, waiting for me.”
Her body tenses at the mention of the bond between us, the mating tie
that has already become one with my muscle and flesh and bone. I don’t
know if she can feel it, hanging so heavy and irrevocable in the air between
us, and it splits my soul in two.
Half of me doesn’t care. That half would have her no matter what the
cost. I would claim her and mark her and bind her to me, damn any
consequences that may come.
The other half?
The other half yearns to have her claim me in just the same fashion. The
other half of my brain cares nothing for these instincts if she does not possess
them as well. What good’s a fated bond if it’s not reciprocated?
I’m a brute, but not an unreasonable one. I want my partner willing and
hungry for me.
“Allie,” I continue, the unbearable need deepening my voice to a pitch I
don’t recognize. “Did you not feel it as well?”
She goes utterly still.
I don’t know precisely what uncertainty she’s fighting, but the edges of
my conscious mind catch on the facts I do know.
Her magick is not as strong as others in her coven. Her mother is a
coven leader. My Allie has known loneliness and isolation as a result. She’s
gone years, perhaps decades, believing her power is not as valuable as the
witches around her. Why then should she have any faith that this magick
between us is something she should trust?
“I…” Allie starts and then hesitates.
I’ve wanted nothing more in my eighty-seven years than I want her to
share her thoughts with me. Remaining silent, I wait for her to finish.
“I felt it,” she whispers. “When you came through the portal, there
was… something there, in the pit of my stomach.”
It’s all the opening I need.
Pressing a line of kisses from her collarbone to the edge of her gown
where it rests over the top of her breasts, I take full advantage of the
admission I’ve just pried from her.
“What did you feel? What manner of magick came over you when I
stepped from the portal?”
The magick which came over me is all too easy to remember. A frenzy,
an irresistible urge to find and claim her, a restless demand to act.
And… a sense of peace, of belonging. It was a certainty that had settled
into my marrow, an inexorable tug toward the new center of my universe.
It had been Allie, leaving her mark on my soul.
I stay quiet and wait for her to answer. Her face is a mask, carefully
blank, like she doesn’t want me to guess at what she’s thinking while she
tries to come up with her reply. Maybe it’s too much to ask of her. Maybe
she’s not ready to give me her thoughts, or still isn’t ready to come to terms
with the truth of our bond. I’m almost ready to soothe those worries, take
back my request at give her leave to come to it in her own time when she
shakes her head and lets out a long breath.
“I felt half-crazed,” she whispers. “When the Veil turned red, I wanted
to throw myself into it. I had to physically restrain myself from stepping
toward it.”
Her confession fills me with a wild, feral sense of satisfaction. “Why
did you hold yourself back?”
Another shake of her head. “I don’t… I thought it must have just been the
magick of the Tithe.”
I can’t stop the growl that rises in my throat, can’t fight back the urge to
lean in and run the tips of my fangs over the mark at her throat. It’s almost
healed again after all the hours we’ve spent apart, and just the sight of the
faded punctures makes me ache to reopen them. I want to sink into her, draw
from her, remind her who exactly she belongs to.
I’m about to do just that when a sharp knock at the door draws both our
attention.
“Oy,” Felix’s good natured, teasing voice comes from the other side.
“Lunch break’s over, your majesties.”
When I look back at Allie, I find her blushing scarlet all the way from
her forehead to the neckline of her gown. Delicious. The color of her makes
my fangs ache and my mouth water for a taste.
Another knock at the door shakes those thoughts right out of me.
“Coming,” I say curtly.
The knocking ceases.
“Are you alright here for the rest of the afternoon?” I ask Allie, holding
out my hand to help her up. “If there’s anything I need to say to—”
“I’m perfectly fine,” she says with feigned brightness, placing her own
hand in the middle of my chest and pushing me back as she sits upright and
arranges her skirt back down over her legs. “Now, where were my—”
Before she can finish the thought, I scoop up an indecent little scrap of
cream-colored lace off the floor.
Allie holds out her hand. “I’ll take those back now.”
“No,” I tell her, sticking them into my back pocket. “No. I think I’ll keep
them.”
Allie sputters for a moment like a fish on a riverbank, and it’s one of the
most endearing things I’ve ever seen. She lunges for me, hands going around
my waist to claw at the fabric stretched tight over my backside, and I capture
her wrists.
“Eren,” she hisses, too quiet for Felix to hear on the other side of the
door. “Give them back.”
Releasing her, I run my hands over the silk of her dress, cupping and
skimming along the delectable curves. “Do you intend to bare this body of
yours to any other demon?”
The question draws a glare from her. “Of course not.”
“Well then,” I say, dipping my hand between her thighs and pressing the
silk against the heat of her. She squirms. “There shouldn’t be anything to
worry about.”
Pulling my hand away and striding quickly toward the door, I give her a
last glance over my shoulder. Allie is standing in the middle of the room,
orgasm-flushed and beautiful, and it takes every last bit of strength in me to
walk out of the room and back toward my duties.
Chapter 22
Allie
It’s well after dark by the time I'm ready to leave the library and head
back upstairs. The light shining in from the greenhouse’s wall of windows
has waned, and I’ve lit a few candles around the space to keep enough light
for reading.
Vayla left a couple of hours ago with a stern warning to stay away from
whatever she’s brewing in that cauldron of hers, and the peace of working the
rest of the day alone was more than welcome.
Being here is… nice, strangely. The scent of herbs and incense, the fresh
tang of the plants Vayla was chopping for her potion. Even the dimness of the
candles and the slight, lived-in dustiness of the space isn’t unpleasant. It
reminds me of my mother’s house and of the coven hall, and even with the
weight attached to some of those memories I still enjoy being here.
My skin is also still strumming with the remnants of magick from
earlier, and not just the magick I was able to draw from the book. My face
gets hot just remembering Eren kneeling between my legs, the things he did
with his mouth… his fangs. And that magick.
I may have seriously been missing out on sex magick all these years.
Whatever happened with us this afternoon wasn’t anything I did on
purpose, but the feeling of all that power breaking over my skin when I came
was incredible. Slightly worrisome, too, because I don’t know where it came
from or how to control it, but really, really fucking hot at the same time.
The fact that Eren could feel it too, that he’s been able to sense my
magick this whole time… damn, it makes me more than ready to get out of
here and go find my demon.
Standing up and stretching some of the stiffness from my body after
sitting over a work table for so long, it suddenly occurs to me I don’t actually
know how to get back to the throne room from here, or whether Eren would
still even be there. For all I know he’s off somewhere else entirely tending to
whatever duties the king of the demon realm handles.
I close the book I’ve been working on, saving my place with a piece of
parchment, and make my way back through the map room and the library to
the door leading out into the corridor.
Tentatively, I open the door and peer into the hall, wondering how
absolutely embarrassing it’s going to be to have to flag down some passerby
demon and admit I have no clue where anything is in this place.
I don’t have to find out. A demon I haven’t met before is waiting for me
just outside the door, a handsome male who looks about twenty in human
years, though I’m a little fuzzy on how that translates to demon years.
“Hello,” I say, surprised to find him there. “Were you waiting for me?”
“Yes,” he answers brightly, with a polite half-bow. “My name is Oswen
and I’m to escort you back to your chambers.”
“Oh,” I say, offering an awkward curtsy in response. Are queen consorts
supposed to curtsy? I add it to my mental list of questions for Eren. “Thank
you. And sorry, if I knew you were waiting out here I would have told you to
come in and make yourself comfortable.”
“It’s no trouble, truly, my lady. It’s as much my duty to stand guard and
make sure nobody entered these rooms without permission.”
“Is that something I should be worried about?”
“No,” he assures me with another bright smile. “Not with me here,
anyway.”
Not exactly reassuring. “Well, then, I guess I’m ready to head back
upstairs.”
He leads the way down the hall, and another thought occurs to me. Is he
going to fly me all the way back up? Oswen seems nice enough, and truth be
told I’d rather have anyone, maybe even Vayla, fly me up rather than climb
hundreds of stairs, but the prospect makes a little uneasy. I’m not sure I want
any demon’s arms around me unless they belong to my demon.
We approach a door just down the hallway from the archives. Why this
one stands out after the hundreds I must have passed with Vayla on our walk
here, I’m not sure, but the closer we get the more I can sense it.
Magick. Not quite like my own or any of the magick practiced by the
coven, put it’s easy enough to feel it pulse from the other side of the door.
“A portal?”
Oswen nods. “His majesty had a few created today for your use. This
one will bring you back to just outside your rooms.”
“Great,” I tell him with a warm smile, thankful I’m going to avoid the
stairs or an awkward flight. “How does it work?”
“Just like any other door.”
Oswen pulls it open and my breath catches when I see that on the other
side is the familiar hallway outside our bedchamber. The only thing that
gives it away is a slight, shimmering film hanging in the doorway between
here and there, the only sign that magick is at play.
He gestures to the door. “After you.”
Stepping through this portal thankfully feels very little like coming
through the Veil. A fine mist of magick over my skin, the slightest tilting of
the world around me, but it’s over after a moment as Oswen and I step into
the hall.
When we reach the bedchamber door, I turn back and thank him. “Do
you know when Eren will be up?”
His smile falters a little at that. “There were many petitioners still
waiting to be heard in the great hall.”
I nod slowly. “They come here to tell him about everything going wrong
in the realm?”
An even bigger slip of that smile. “Aye, they do. Nothing to concern
yourself over, though. His majesty has it well in hand.”
I don’t want to argue with this unfamiliar demon, even if it stands to
reason that having a line of people out your door all coming to tell you how
they’re suffering hardly warrants a casual dismissal. Instead I smile, thank
him again, and slip inside the room.
It’s a little strange, being here without Eren. After only a day, the space
still feels like his rather than ours, and after how fast everything seemed to
move last night and this morning, I take a few minutes to explore.
The impact of the room’s sheer size and beauty hasn’t lessened since the
first time I saw it last night. If anything, I’m able to fully let it sink in now that
I have the time to slow down and study it a little more closely. Another fire’s
been lit and I walk over to the plush fur rug in front of the hearth, finding that
it’s every bit as soft and inviting as it looks.
An image of Eren laying me down here pops into my head. With a fire
blazing and snow falling outside, I can almost see the way he would lower
himself down on top of me, wings spread wide as he…
Alright, alright. No point in getting worked up when my demon’s not
even here to play out that particular fantasy.
Setting sexy thoughts aside, I take stock of the cozy chairs and the
handsome wood mantle mounted on the wall. It matches the dark, polished
wood of the desk, the huge armoire, and the bedframe.
A plate of meats, cheeses and delicious soft-looking bread has been left
on the small table between the two chairs, along with a decanter of dark red
wine and two glasses. I sit for a few moments to eat and sip, watching the
flames dance and wondering again how long it’s going to be before Eren will
be back.
When it becomes more than apparent the answer to that question is “a
while”, and I’ve eaten and drank my fill, I stand up again and brush a few
stray crumbs off my dress.
Time for some more exploring, I guess.
Crossing the room and opening up the armoire, I find it stocked with
clothing, and a note left on top of one of the stacks in an unfamiliar script.
Eren’s writing, it seems.
For my queen, keep what you’d like and let me know anything you
still need.
There are soft pants and warm, chunky sweaters, lovely silk gowns and
slinky negligees in a variety of jewel tones. I pull one out and rub it over my
cheek, the silk impossibly soft against my skin. I lay that one out on the bed
for after my bath, and sit down beside it on the mattress, glancing toward the
door and wondering how much longer it will be until Eren returns.
Laying back, I close my eyes for a few moments, and an unexpected,
insistent pulse of magick moves through me.
I don’t have any idea what to do with it.
Ever since I was pulled into the book’s magick, and ever since my little
tryst with Eren this afternoon, the power has been there, hovering just at the
edge of my consciousness no matter how many times I try to push it aside.
That’s what I try to do now, and find it more persistent than ever. It’s an itch,
an ache, a tremble in my blood and bones that won’t let itself be ignored.
Is it the demon realm doing this to me? It’s hard to think otherwise, with
the way my power has spiked today. The list of questions only grows.
Sitting up and letting out a harsh, frustrated breath, I run a hand through
my hair.
If this is what other witches feel all the time, I don’t know how they
stand it. Maybe I’ll get used to it after a while, but right now it just makes me
feel unsettled and desperate for a little relief. Standing, I pace the room a few
times and take some steadying, deep breaths in and out. I close my eyes, try
to find some sort of inner peace, but the power humming beneath my skin
won’t let me.
I’m not too proud to admit that I’m a little afraid of it, afraid of what it
might do if it doesn’t have some outlet, which is my only excuse for what I do
next.
Walking into the bathroom, I find a bath already drawn in the enormous
tub. There are little tendrils of steam rising off the surface, drifting lazily
toward the high ceiling above. Peaceful and warm, the space is a slight balm
to my racing, restless thoughts and the nervous energy threatening to erupt
from my fingertips.
Focus. I have to focus. I have to find some way to expel this power.
Raising my hands, I bring my fingertips together in front of me and feel
the magick crest. Memories, too, flood in with the soft touch. I close my eyes
and lose myself in them for a few long moments.
“Like this.”
Steady, competent hands guiding my own. My mother’s reassuring
voice walking me through my first attempt at manifestation.
“Is this right?”
“Yes, darling. Now focus on your intent.”
So much will in my little body, a deep desire to make her proud of me.
If I could have conjured the small, white daisy I held in my mind’s eye by
determination alone, I would have brought a meadow to life in my mother’s
workshop.
And then…nothing. A hollow, a void, no magick at all to rush up and
meet my intent. Wide, searching eyes locked to hers, pleading for some
explanation.
“We’ll try again tomorrow.”
Twenty years later, the disappointment still tastes like acid on my
tongue. I will it away, all too aware that bringing that type of energy to my
spellwork could have very, very bad consequences.
Instead, I focus again on the power coursing just beneath the barrier of
my skin.
Hot, ready, eager to be unleashed, it rises to the surface the moment I
call for it. It takes every bit of my self-control to rein it in and match it to the
vision I have floating behind my closed eyelids. Like I did when I was a little
girl trying to win my mother’s approval, I focus my power on that one spot
and put all my intent behind forming the magick to the shape I will it.
And oh, how easy it is.
One moment I’m trying and the next moment I’m doing. The power
comes naturally, channeled along paths that have always been there.
Instinctual, free, and heady, it draws tears of both joy and sorrow to my eyes.
How much different would my life have been if I’d always had access
to this kind of magick?
I don’t want to let the intrusive thoughts in, not when I’m finally, finally,
feeling what it’s like to be a witch with power. I don’t want to ruin it, to
color it with anything but the pure joy of finally being able to tap into the
wide web of power that should have always been open for me.
That resolve doesn’t hold.
The joy of this magick and the pain of the past collide, and I make
myself stop. I’m breathing a little heavy, and even though I haven’t yet
opened my eyes, I can already sense that the surrounding space is filled with
the scent of roses and the sparkle of witchlight. I don’t want to risk ruining it
by losing my cool and summoning a fireball or a tempest by mistake.
When I do open my eyes, my breath catches at what I’ve created.
I’ve conjured red rose petals to scatter across the floor and the bath’s
surface, perfuming the space. Alongside those petals, bright spheres of
witchlight hover over the water and in the air above me. The glowing orbs
remind me of fireflies dancing on a summer night, of so many stars on a clear
evening. The warm, yellow glow they cast fills the space with a welcoming,
cozy ambiance.
Petals and light, such easy magick. Such lovely magick.
It’s little more than child’s spellwork, but I still can’t help but be a little
proud of myself. The child I was—needing so much validation and
acceptance—crashes into the adult I’ve become. Need meets want, fear
meets hope, and doubt meets belief. All those sharply conflicting emotions
coming together to make this: a room filled with light and roses.
“What’s all this?” Eren’s deep voice rumbles from behind me.
Spinning to face him, my heart stutters and then races even faster than
before when I see his expression.
Wonder, absolute wonder.
Eren’s eyes are wide and his lips are slightly parted as he takes in what
my magick has made.
“Allie,” he says, voice hushed. “You did this?”
“I… yeah, I guess I did.”
Eren makes it to me in three quick strides. He doesn’t pause a moment
before pulling me into a tight embrace, lifting me off my feet.
“This is wonderful.”
It is, isn’t it? Despite the lingering emotional upheaval and the strangely
muddled traces of bitterness and joy on my tongue, the wonder isn’t lost on
me. The wonder created by my magick. Mine.
Not even remotely able to respond over the lump in my throat, I can only
nod where I’m held firmly against Eren’s chest.
“The entire room smells like your power,” he tells me, lips hot on the
side of my neck. “It smells like petrichor. Like rain on a dry summer day.
Rain on rose petals.”
I lean back and look into his eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” He presses a soft kiss into my mouth as he sets me back onto
the floor.
The kiss starts soft and soothing, but it doesn’t say that way for long.
Desire mingles with all the other emotions I’m feeling, and it should be
too much. I can’t make sense of it, can barely get a grip on what I’m feeling
or sort through every painful, tender emotion tugging at my heart.
But this. This. This eclipses all the rest.
Eren pours his admiration and his awe into each press of his lips on
mine. Even though some part of me knows better than to seek this kind of
validation, it still does something to me. All of his approval rushes in to fill
the hollow, aching parts of me that have just been brought back to agonizing,
amazing life by the resurgence of my power.
I’m left feeling more settled in the wake of that approval, blooming into
the hot press of his mouth and anchored by the feel of his sure, steady hands
on my body. When we finally come up for air we’re both panting, and his
crimson eyes are bright with need.
It would be so, so easy to give into the temptation he offers. His wings
flare behind him, tail whipping impatiently in that way I’ve already come to
understand means he’s feeling every bit as unsettled and wanting as I am.
I want it, too. I want him. I want to grab him and pull him into the bath
or tumble into bed with him and do exactly as the Goddess commands. Join
our bodies, our lives, our spirits—fuck each other into an oblivion that will
erase the lingering traces of uncertainty.
Something—doubt, maybe, or the fear that no matter what small thread
of power I’m now able to grasp isn’t anywhere near enough—makes me
pause and pull back from Eren slightly.
“Has there been any noticeable change since I got here?” I ask him,
already afraid of the answer. “Are things… getting better?”
I think of the court full of demons depending on him, on us, the full day
of petitioners he saw all suffering and looking for some kind of relief. My
stomach knots painfully when Eren doesn’t answer right away, but the truth is
clear enough in the shadows under his eyes and the exhaustion in his posture.
“That bad?” I ask, my voice dropping to a whisper.
He pulls me back into his arms. “None of this is your doing.”
“I know. But I’m supposed to fix it.”
“I would never put that expectation on you. This magick, this bargain,
it’s as much my responsibility as yours, and it’s so much larger and more
complex than either of us. I did not expect that one night with you in my bed
would turn things around entirely.”
“Maybe two?” I ask, trying for a bit of humor.
Eren’s laugh is more tiredness than amusement. “Perhaps.”
Still, the worries don’t leave his eyes, and the longer I look the more I
can see the other tells that let me know just how exhausted he is. There are
smudges of shadows beneath his eyes, his dark hair is mussed like he’s run
his hand through it a few too many times, and the sides of his mouth are
bracketed with tension.
The rest of my jittery energy slides away. It’s replaced by a soft
tenderness, a painful sort of kinship with him and the knowledge that
whatever we’re going through, we’re at least going through it together.
Surrounded by my petals and light, remembering how tenderly he
washed and soothed me here last night, I step back and take one of his hands
in mine.
“Come on,” I say. “Let me take care of you tonight.”
Chapter 23
Eren
“Come on. Let me take care of you tonight.”
The words are an absolution I didn’t know I needed. After a day of
mounting worry and the heaviness of so many of my people helped, but so
many more still suffering, the simple permission to enjoy some time alone
with my mate feels like a gift I don’t deserve.
All around us, her magick fills the space with light and wonder. I was
floored when I found her here a few minutes ago, overwhelmed by the crisp
scent of her power and by the determined spark in her eye. Surrounded by her
gifts, I was humbled.
Blood humming with anticipation, I let her lead me further into the
bathroom. I let her pull my jacket from my shoulders, helping her when she
laughs at the complicated closings on the back. I let her undo the top of my
trousers and nudge them down. Stepping out of them, I stand entirely bare and
open for her inspection.
And inspect she does.
Allie trails a hand down over my chest, gently brushing a nipple, and
draws a slow caress over my stomach, stopping just short of where I’m
already hard and aching for her.
“It hardly seems fair,” I tell her, leaning in close to brush my lips over
the shell of her ear. “That you’re still so covered.”
She arches a brow and takes a step back, then turns around.
“Help me with the back?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder.
As if she needs to ask. Working on the buttons down the back of the
dress, it’s all I can do not to lean in and kiss every bit of soft skin exposed.
When it’s open completely, I step back again, content to have her set the
pace.
Allie turns. The top of her dress has gone loose around her chest and
she holds it up with one arm.
“I don’t have anything on under this dress,” she says, all seriousness. “I
had some panties, but they seem to have gone missing.”
“Good riddance,” I growl, eyes fixed on the shift of dark blue silk over
her lush, generous curves.
“A shame,” she murmurs. “I really liked those panties.”
“I’ll buy you a hundred more. As many as you want.”
Allie’s laugh is husky and soft. “Make it a thousand.”
“Done.”
The gown drops, and every one of my senses is attuned to the sight of
her luscious skin, her delectable scent. Her light pink nipples pebble, and
even from this distance I can sense her arousal.
Mate, my brain yells. My mate, bared and willing for me.
Allie comes back to me, bare skin gilded in the warm light she created,
and when she touches me every place our skin meets vibrates and hums with
awareness of her.
“Beautiful,” she murmurs. “You’re beautiful.”
My heart stutters over the words. It skips and struggles to pick back up
at a reasonable rhythm as I yield to the searching pressure of her hand and
wade back into the tub of water behind me. Allie follows me step for step
into the bath, eyes bright with delight as the water closes over her calves and
ample thighs. I’m submerged to the chest when it laps at the thatch of curls
between her legs.
Perfect. Just perfect, my mate. Allie has already shed any shyness she
held onto last night.
Still, I remember her hesitation at my earlier embrace, her lingering
doubts about her magick and the bargain. And that’s saying nothing of the fact
that we still haven’t discussed everything that happened last night and what it
means for our relationship.
With monumental regret, I settle myself back on one of the bench seats in
the tub and cross my arms over my chest. “There are a few more things we
need to talk about.”
Allie’s having none of it. She follows me, comes to stand just in front of
me, and puts her hands on my shoulders.
“Do we?”
“You know we do.” The words come out more gruffly than I intended
when she moves her hands down over my chest. As she does, she leans in
and those luscious breasts of hers press close when she brings her lips to my
neck.
“Little witch,” I murmur, stilling the downward path of her hands. “Are
you trying to distract me from our conversation?”
“Is it working?” Her question is a soft whisper against the sensitive
place beneath my jaw, and the smell and feel of her so close is nearly enough
to make me set aside my determination to hash things out. Nearly, but not
quite.
“Allie,” I breathe. “We can’t. Not until we talk about what happened
last night.”
I gently remove her hands, and as soon as they’re free she takes a step
back. Losing her closeness is like a physical blow, and I have to stop myself
from reaching out and yanking her back to me.
A few more steps backward and she settles herself on the bench
opposite me. With her arms folded over her chest to match my posture and
her chin hiked defiantly upward, it’s clear she’s not going to speak first.
It’s fair, I suppose. I was the one to drop the whole mates revelation in
her lap. I should be the one to jump into cleaning up after the fallout.
But damned if I know where to begin.
“Back in Vayla’s workroom,” I start, sifting back through the lust-hazed
memories of earlier this afternoon. “You mentioned feeling something before
I stepped through the Veil.”
Her forehead creases in thought. “Yes… I mean, I might have. I’m sure
it’s nothing what it feels like for you.”
“Describe it,” I coax, “and let me be the judge of that.”
Instead of answering right away, Allie rises from where she’s seated to
wade toward me. Her shoulders remain under the water, but even the hint of
her naked form beneath has my blood readily heating again. When she’s just a
few inches away, she stops and I hold myself stock-still, utterly unwilling to
do so much as lay a finger on her until she tells me what she’s thinking.
Even as much as we both enjoyed what passed between us this morning
and in the workroom, neither moment should have happened before we talked
through everything. It’s just… with a willing, hot, wanting Allie in front of
me, I’m utterly lost. I’m mindless, embarrassingly incapable of self-restraint.
Whatever she wants from me, whenever she wants it, I’m powerless to do
anything but grant it to her.
This, however, is too important to delay any longer.
“I felt…I felt tugged toward the Veil. I had to stop myself from taking a
step forward. Like, physically restrain myself.” Her lips turn up at the
corners and my heart jerks in response. “I had to look at Joan to see if she
felt it too, but I don’t think she did.”
“No,” I can’t stop myself from interjecting. “That pull was for you and
you alone.”
Allie’s body sways a fraction closer to mine, like that same force
drawing her to the Veil is still trying to lay its claim on her. My claim on her.
Her claim on me.
A second before I’m sure I’m going to break and reach out to touch her,
she lifts a hand and lays it on the center of my chest.
“I can still feel it,” she whispers.
I lay my hand over hers. “Yes.”
“And you feel it, too?”
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
There’s such fear in her voice, such uncertainty and doubt that I can’t
stop myself from pulling her into my lap. Keeping her hand securely pinned
beneath mine, I take the other and raise it to my lips.
“It means,” I tell her, brushing my lips along the back of her knuckles,
“that you’re mine. And I’m yours. We’ve belonged to one another for our
entire lives, even if we only found out yesterday.”
Allie shivers despite the warmth of the water. “Humans don’t have
mates.”
“And you’re no longer just human.”
Her head snaps up. “What? What am I?”
I can only shrug, partly because it hardly matters to me what she is as
long as she’s mine, and partly because I’m not quite certain. “You’re a Tithe
bride. You’re mated and married to a demon. Your life span is already
changing to match mine, and your magick is becoming bound up in this realm.
“Listen to your heart, little witch,” I say between soft kisses against her
skin. “Listen to your soul. You know there’s a magick between us, let it in.”
She stiffens at something I just said and I pull back, searching her face.
“What is it?”
“That’s just it, isn’t it? It’s only magick.”
She sounds so dejected, so disappointed, and something in the mournful
tone and the deep sadness in her eyes clues me into why.
“You’re a witch who doesn’t trust in magick?”
Allie shakes her head. “It’s not that… it’s just…”
When she trails off into silence, I give her another encouraging little
kiss. “Help me understand, love.”
The endearment draws a harsh, shaking breath from her. I’d think it was
a misstep if it wasn’t for the way I feel some more of her tension leave her.
We sit like that for a few long seconds. Her body melts into the
hardening contours of mine, fitting into all the places I never realized were
so empty, waiting to be filled by her. The silence stretches so long that I
almost speak up and offer another encouragement when Allie speaks again.
“I’ve had no reason to trust in magick. It’s never been something I’m
comfortable with, not considering how little of it I was born with.”
While she speaks, she hovers her hand over the water and a few
glittering drops rise easily up into her touch. The familiar, rain-sweet smell
of her magick rises as well, and I inhale it greedily.
“Well. At least I didn’t have much of it before I came here.”
The droplets skate and dance up over the tips of her fingers and along
the back of her hand for a moment before she flicks them away and shakes
her head.
“Just tricks,” she mutters. “Small magick even children can do.”
“Lovely magick,” I correct gently, looking at the floating witchlights and
rose petals. “Don’t diminish your abilities for anyone’s sake, least of all
mine. And you’ve been in this realm for a single day. Who’s to say your
power won’t continue to grow in time?”
“Who’s to say it will?” she challenges. “Did Emilia’s?”
I think for a moment. “I believe it did, initially, yes. Through all the
centuries of Tithe brides and demon spouses, there’s always been something
agreeable about witchmagick and this realm. Though, Emilia resided far from
here when she first came to the realm, so I don’t know that firsthand. Her
husband’s home is in another part of the kingdom.”
“And when she came here?” Allie’s question is soft, damning.
“By the time she came here to work with Vayla on a fix for the bargain,
she was already weakening.”
Allie falls silent at that, but she doesn’t move away. Her hand hovers
over the water again and she draws more droplets up from its surface.
Instead of just dancing along the edges of her skin, though, they sway in the
air around her hand. I glance at her face and its creased in concentration as
she watches the water move.
“Is Emilia mated with her husband?”
I shake my head. The motion brushes my cheek over the soft silk of her
hair. “No, she isn’t.”
Just the thought of it pulls at something sharp and tender in my heart. The
idea of mates being ripped apart after they’re bonded… in some ways, death
would be a kinder fate.
Allie’s small water ballet continues, expanding outwards until we’re
surrounded by a living cascade.
Reaching over the side of the tub, I grab a cloth and a bar of pine soap
and begin tending to her. Her small moans and sighs of pleasure echo through
me, but it’s only tenderness I want to give her now. We spend the next few
minutes touching and caressing, washing and teasing until the sparks between
us reignite. When I hit a particularly sensitive spot, all her droplets fall over
us in a miniature rainstorm.
As much as I want her, though, something about the moment still feels
off.
“It’s been a long day,” I say, stilling the motion of my hands. “Are you
tired?”
In response, Allie shifts herself in my lap until she’s sitting astride my
thighs. She rocks slowly, bringing the heat of her right over the stiffened
length of my cock. She’s looking down between our bodies, watching herself
move against me with hooded, heated eyes.
An inch. Maybe two. That’s all it would take. If I shifted even the
smallest bit, I could be inside her. One thrust and I’d be swallowed
completely by the pulling, wet heat of her cunt.
“Allie,” I rasp. “We shouldn’t.”
That stops her immediately. Her body goes still and her eyes snap up to
meet mine. “You don’t want to?”
“It’s not that.” I hardly recognize the sound of my voice. Guttural, halflost to the undeniable urge to take her, rut her, fill her completely.
“Then what? It’s what we’re supposed to do, isn’t it? There’s no chance
of the magick being renewed if we don’t even try.”
What we’re supposed to do.
If anything could have banked the flames of desire pressing outwards
under my skin, that would be it. Painfully, I rest my hands on her hips and
move her back a few more inches.
“If that’s the only reason you’d have me, I think it’s best we stop now.”
“I’m willing,” she insists. “I consent. I’m ready to do whatever it takes
to try to fix all of this.”
The words are right, but the sentiment is… abhorrent.
Even for the sake of my entire realm, I can’t take something from my
mate that’s not freely given. The thought of everything we’ve shared up to this
point being colored by obligation, coerced by the magick of the bargain and
the Tithe, makes me feel physically ill. For the first time, I understand Allie’s
dismay at learning we were mates. The idea of her sharing her body with me,
submitting so sweetly, taking and giving pleasure with me and to me, all of it
being driven by anything other than her own desire and attraction, is
unimaginable.
Removing her gently from my lap, I stand and stretch my wings behind
me, above the water.
The blinding guilt and shame follow a moment later. I can’t look at her,
can’t stomach the idea that she’s felt forced this entire time. Turning around, I
brace my hands against the side of the tub.
“Has all of it—” I start, needing to pause and swallow around the
tightening of my throat. “Have you wanted any of it? Or has it all been…
been…”
I can’t make myself say the words, can barely make myself even think
them.
“Eren,” Allie whispers. “No, no.”
There’s a shift in the water lapping at my back, a gentle splash as she
moves toward me. And then she’s there, right there behind me, wrapping her
arms around my waist and pressing her lips to the center of my back, between
my wings.
“I wanted you,” she says in a voice edged with tears. “I want you.
Tonight, yesterday, even back in the woods when I first saw you.”
A flare of relief, immediately tamped down as I wait for her to continue.
“That’s never even been a question. But everything else—the magick,
the bargain, the mating bond—I can’t make sense of it. I feel like I’ve cycled
through every possible emotion I’m capable of feeling these last twenty-four
hours and I’m just… struggling to sort through any of it.”
My answering purr comes unbidden. It’s not one of pleasure, or even of
contentment, but a soft noise meant to soothe and comfort my mate.
A sound I’ve never made before.
Allie melts into the sound, presses herself more deeply into me, and I let
that purr comfort us both.
One day. I’ve known my mate one day and already she feels as vital as
the air in my lungs. I turn and tug her into my arms.
“Little witch,” I say against the top of her head. “It’s getting late.
Come.”
I lead her from the bath, pat us both dry, wrap her in a soft, warm robe,
and take her hand. The fire in the bedroom has been stoked high, the floor
strewn with even more of Allie’s beautiful, fragrant rose petals. As she sinks
down onto the mattress, I take a few steps away from the bed until she sits up
and lets out a small noise of protest.
“Where are you going?”
“I was going to put on some sleep clothes. Unless you’d like me to sleep
elsewhere tonight?”
“No,” she says immediately. “You’re sleeping here. And forget about
the pjs, I like you better without them.”
With that bold claim, she shimmies out of her robe and settles herself
naked against the pillows. With one brow arched provocatively and all that
smooth, luminous skin on display, she looks like nothing less than a goddess.
I immediately head back to the bed, lifting off slightly with my wings to
land directly on top of her. Caging her beneath me, I rest my fangs on her
throat just over the mark I’ve left there.
“Tempting little witch,” I tease, licking her skin. “You like me like
this?”
“Yes,” she moans, raising her hips up toward me.
I chuckle at her eagerness, even though I know that rest will be better
for the both of us tonight. “Sleep, Allie.”
Pressing one last kiss against her neck, I roll over and tuck her body
against mine, draping a wing over her to keep her sheltered and safe. She lets
out an irritated little huff, but curls herself into me.
“Can you take care of the candles?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“I…” she starts, thinking about it for a minute. “Yeah, I think I can.”
She closes her eyes in concentration and a moment later every candle in
the room sputters to darkness.
“My clever witch,” I say, holding her close until we both drift off.
Chapter 24
Allie
Morning comes with a faint light filtering in from the stone archway
leading out onto the mountain, and a pleasant, cool breeze blowing across the
nest we’ve made for ourselves.
I don’t know what time it is, but it seems early. Or at least early enough
that Eren is still fast asleep beside me. In the few quiet moments before he
wakes, I let myself study him.
Handsome, as always, and already becoming so familiar to me. The
elegant lines of his horns, the drape of his wing over me, even his long tail
winding itself around my leg like he doesn’t want to give me the chance to
sneak out of bed like I did yesterday, all those distinctly un-human parts of
him already seem so… natural.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve never really found them strange at
all. They’re just… Eren. Part of his entire, sexy package.
Beyond the physical, there’s something about the way he folds his wing
over me in sleep, the way he always seems to be touching me, the obvious
care and concern he’s shown me, which tugs at the center of my chest. His
words from our first night together echo in my mind.
Mates or not, Goddess-blessed or not, there could never be a life in
which I did not know you as my own.
Could it be that simple?
I continue to watch him sleep and there’s a moment, just one, where my
heart skitters a little bit away from me. It sees Eren—sleepy and rumpled and
looking so utterly delicious here beside me—and tumbles over itself to
extrapolate this moment into a lifetime.
In that lifetime, we’d wake like this every morning. He’d look at me like
he did last night, like I was gifted and precious and important to him. And I’d
look at him like he’s the precise answer to a question I can’t quite put into
words. We’d get out of bed and have coffee and bagels—or whatever passes
for breakfast here in the demon realm—and that would be that.
Contentment. Bliss. Whatever you call the absolute, unquestionable
knowledge of having a partner who loves you and never intends to leave. The
certainty that you’ve been claimed, and that your claim has been accepted in
return.
It’s too soon for that, I know, but laying beside him in the pre-dawn
quiet, it’s hard to remember the reasons I still feel so hesitant and confused
about everything.
“It’s too early to be awake.”
Eren’s rumbling voice jerks me out of my thoughts, and I laugh softly,
letting him pull me back against him.
“It’s morning,” I whisper.
“No,” he murmurs, already half-sleeping again, not even bothering to
open his eyes. “It’s absolutely not. Back to sleep with you.”
I scoff a little, but with full dawn still a ways off and my eyelids already
feeling heavy in the warmth and the comfort of his embrace, I snuggle back in
for a few more hours of sleep.
The next time I wake is decidedly less cozy.
I’m alone, for one, and when I sit up and look around the room, Eren is
nowhere to be found.
“So much for sharing our mornings together,” I grumble to myself before
getting out of bed and padding naked to the bathroom.
I’ve discovered the shower stall cut into one of the rock walls and am
mid-way through rinsing myself off when a pair of big hands reach around to
cup my breasts from behind.
I jump and shriek, which only makes Eren laugh and hold me tighter.
“Did I scare you?”
“Oh, no. I’m more than used to strange men walking up and grabbing me
while I bathe.” He growls a little at that, and I rub a soothing stroke over the
back of his hand. “I’m only kidding. I thought you’d already left for the day.”
He spins me in his arms and steps under the warm spray with me. When
he reaches one hand up to cup my jaw, I can’t help but lean into him.
“I wouldn’t have left without saying anything.”
The assurance is serious and sweet, and combined with the tenderness
of his touch, all my lingering irritation at waking up alone and being
ambushed in my shower disappears.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” I ask him.
He presses his lips to my forehead briefly before answering. “I thought
we could spend the day together. That’s where I went this morning, to clear a
few things off my plate so I’d be free to spend it with you. If you’d like, that
is.”
Eren sounds almost… shy, like he’s really not sure how I’m going to
respond. Silly demon. I lean up and capture his lips with mine for a few long,
hot kisses before pulling back with a grin.
“I’d love that.”
An hour later, Eren takes me by the hand and leads me through the stone
archway and back onto our private balcony-slash-landing strip. I’m wearing
a cream-colored tunic top, and a pair of fitted trousers in an impossibly soft,
dark brown material. I complete the outfit with a pair of knee-high boots in
black leather.
I look like a pirate, or some fantasy princess about to sneak out of the
castle to go on an adventure, and—as it turns out—I really, really dig that
look. So does Eren, if his short growl of approval when he sees what I’d
picked out for the day is any indication.
“Where are we going?” I ask for at least the fifth time this last hour.
He’s been maddeningly closed-lipped about what our day is going to entail.
“As I’m the one with wings,” he says, stepping back and giving those
admittedly magnificent black wings a mighty stretch behind him, “I believe
that’s for me to know and you to find out.”
I cross my arms over my chest and pop a hip. “You think I’d just let you
carry me off to parts unknown? A dangerous predator like you?”
Eren’s eyes flash molten for a moment and I hope my words had their
intended effect. I hope he’s thinking about our first night in the wilderness of
the demon realm, about what happened when he caught and carried me back
here.
After last night, I’m desperate to reignite that spark between us. I
understand his reasons for walking things back, completely agree that nothing
should happen between us if we’re not both fully into it, but I’m also all-for
anything that might help renew the bargain and the magick in this realm. And
if that so happens to be fucking the brains out of my hot demon husband, so be
it. You won’t see me complaining.
Now I just have to get him to feel the same.
“If this predator promises to be on his best behavior?”
“Hmmm,” I murmur. “Then I think I’d be even less inclined to go with
you.”
Another flash, this time accompanied by a low growl of warning and a
few stalking steps toward me.
“Be careful what you tempt, little witch.”
“No. I don’t think I will.”
As soon as he reaches me, Eren swings me up into his embrace and
nestles his face into my neck, walking us out onto the rock ledge outside the
bedchamber. The sharp drag of a fang follows, and I can’t help but shiver in
anticipation and arch a little closer.
He hasn’t bitten me since yesterday afternoon, but the answering shot of
lust in my veins when he runs his tongue along his claiming mark is
undeniable. So is the purr that kicks up in his chest.
“Sweet as a rose garden in a rainstorm,” he says against my skin.
I don’t have time to respond before he executes a truly impressive
vertical takeoff into the clear morning sky. Letting out a yelp, I cling even
tighter to him.
“You can open your eyes, little witch,” he says into my ear, over the
roar of the wind. “I won’t let you fall.”
That’s true enough, and this flight is much less precarious than the last
one we took around this mountain. I feel safe, well, at least as safe as anyone
could feel in the arms of a demon flying hundreds of feet in the air, and I
crack my eyes open.
The demon realm is even more beautiful this morning than it was that
first night.
By night it was regal and mysterious, by day it’s absolutely
overwhelming. High, jagged peaks stretch along the horizon, cutting fierce
blades into the clear blue sky. Below, the rich green of thick pine forests
stretches out along the valley, with a cobalt river running through the very
center. As we continue on, a few alpine lakes show themselves in hidden
crags, sparkling brightly in the morning sun.
The entire landscape is like something out of the most beautiful
mountain range in the human realm, amplified by a power of ten. Even with
the lingering twinge of bitter magick, another sort of power is also all too
clear here. A wildness, an untamed spirit of this realm racing past us as Eren
flies into lower elevations.
I hold him tighter as he descends toward a soft meadow a little way
down into the foothills. The clearing is ringed by forest and has a small,
placid lake in its center. It’s a beautiful place, a serene one, and my breath
catches a little in my throat as Eren lowers us toward the ground.
When we touch down, he doesn’t set me on my feet right away.
“Was that alright?” he asks.
I nod, and he loosens his grip, not letting me go completely until I’m
steady.
“Where are we?”
Around us, the mountain meadow sways with soft green grasses and
wildflowers. A sloping hill leads down to the lake we flew over, and behind
us, the forest rings the entire space in a dark spruce curtain. I’m so consumed
with taking it all in that it takes me a second to catch up when Eren answers
me.
“It’s a spot my parents used to bring me to when I was young.”
I glance over and find him looking out across the meadow as well, eyes
distant with memory.
“It’s beautiful,” I tell him, reaching down to squeeze his hand. “Can we
walk down to the lake?”
He nods, and we set off. As we walk, he tells me about the picnics he
used to have here with his mother and father; the afternoons spent with other
children of the court running and playing and diving for shiny rocks in the
lake.
“It doesn’t sound all that different from a human childhood,” I say with a
smile as we reach the shore.
Bending over, I touch my fingertips to the water and find it freezing
cold. Wincing, I look up and find Eren grinning at me.
“I have no idea how you swam in that.”
“It’s warmer in the summer,” he says. “And demons run a bit hotter than
humans.”
I’m about to give him some sass in response to that when he claims my
hand again.
“Come on. I have a surprise for you.”
I let him lead me a little ways down the shore. The soft grass brushes
against my legs and the scents of lake water and warm spring air settle into
my lungs.
After a few minutes, Eren pauses, releases my hand and takes a few
steps away from me.
“Wait here?” he asks.
I nod, and before I have time to blink, he’s gone. There’s no crack of
lighting or flare of light to mark his leaving, just a slight, shimmering mist
that dissolves him entirely.
“Eren?” I ask uncertainly to the spot he’s just disappeared, like he might
still be able to hear me.
Unsurprisingly, I get no answer. A few seconds turns into a minute, and
then two. Despite the beautiful day and the serenity of the surrounding
scenery, I feel the first faint flicker of fear.
Almost as soon as the feeling creeps in, the air shimmers again. A splitsecond later, Eren reappears holding a large woven basket in one hand.
I just stare at him, slack-jawed. “What was that?”
“A portal?”
“You could have warned me!”
His face falls. “You’re right, I should have thought of that. I forget
sometimes that witches don’t commonly practice portal magick. If you were
in any danger here, I would never have left you.”
He looks so contrite, and as there truly hasn’t been any harm done, I
immediately feel bad for freaking out.
“It’s fine,” I tell him. “Maybe just a heads up next time?”
He nods readily.
“What’s in the basket?”
“Breakfast,” he says with a wide, pleased smile.
It takes me a full five seconds to process. “You had our breakfast
waiting in… a portal? I don’t… I mean… how did you do that?”
“I opened a portal back to the kitchens and gathered the materials I put
together this morning.” He says it like it’s the most logical thing in the world.
“Yeah, but how? One moment you were here and then you were…well,
nowhere.”
“Ley lines and power,” he says, shrugging. “As… what was it you
called us, ‘crossroads demons?’… we are particularly sensitive to moving
through streams of power. Creating them, as well, though that takes more
natural magickal inclination than the average demon possesses.”
“So,” I begin, still processing. “You could have just portaled us here?
Why did we fly?”
“I enjoy flying with you,” he says with a roguish smile. “And I thought it
would be nice for you to see some more of your new realm.”
Alright. I suppose that makes sense.
Eren is still looking a little chagrined, not quite sure if he messed up or
not, and his expression is so endearing that I have to smile.
“I like flying with you too,” I tell him.
He grins at me, and I step forward to lift the lid on the basket he’s
holding. Warm, delicious smells wash over me—bread, fruit, savory
breakfast meat, and something that smells wonderfully like coffee.
“Breakfast?” I ask.
“Breakfast,” he agrees.
Eren takes my hand in his free one to lead me over to a wide, flattopped rock overlooking the lake. Pulling a cloth from the basket, he drapes
it over the top of the rock and starts pulling items out.
My demon husband is taking me on a breakfast picnic.
For a few seconds, the thought is so absolutely bizarre that all I can do
is stand there and watch him as he works. He’s still got a smile on his face
and his posture is relaxed, like this is the most normal thing in the world. He
keeps working until he looks up and sees me staring.
“Is something wrong?”
“No!” I hurriedly assure him. “No, nothing is wrong.”
Shaking off the last of my disbelief, I sit cross-legged in the soft patch of
grass beside our makeshift table, looking at the spread. Eren reaches forward
and picks up a small hunk of bread, dipping into a deep red jam with bits of
fruit in it.
“Try this,” he says enthusiastically. “It’s made of hearthberries,
something I don’t think you have back in the human realm.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “We don’t.”
When he lifts the bite of bread and jam toward my mouth, I realize he
means to feed me. It’s on the tip of my tongue to protest—some part of me has
always been a little weird about food, romantic partners, and getting past my
own hangups about my body and others’ expectations for it—but I stop when
I remember the point of today.
Get to know each other better, let our guards down, find out if there’s
anything to this marriage and this bargain we’re meant to help strengthen.
Tossing my lingering reservations aside, I open my lips eagerly for him.
He sets the morsel on my tongue and I let my teeth scrape against his fingers
when he pulls his hand away. It earns me a small rumbling growl that echoes
straight down between my thighs.
Who would have thought breakfast could be so erotic?
I don’t have much time to contemplate that, however, before the sharp,
sweet burst of the hearthberry jam on my tongue makes my eyes widen. A
small noise of pleasure breaks in the back of my throat as I chew and
swallow.
“That was delicious!”
My demon looks pleased enough with himself that I want to lean over
and kiss that satisfied smirk off his lips. I do just that, and we spend the next
half-hour trading kisses and bites, making our way leisurely through our
meal.
Still, the touches never turn more than playful. The kisses stay teasing
and light. Even when I move to press myself closer, kiss deeper, Eren finds
ways to dodge around me, keep plying me with delicious bites of food, hold
us both on a tight leash.
It’s more than a little frustrating, but not surprising considering our
conversation last night. Instead of letting myself get irritated or giving the
space for any old, insecure thoughts to creep in, I rein myself in and let him
lead. Enjoying the food and the light banter of conversation, I tell him a little
about my life in the mundane world—my job, my apartment, all the friends I
made outside the coven. He responds in kind, telling me a bit more about the
court and the lay of the demon realm.
When I can’t eat another bite, I sprawl back in the grass and rest my
hands over my satisfied belly.
“If that’s what every meal in this realm is like, I’m going to be a happy,
happy woman,” I murmur, smiling up at an ever-so-pleased demon.
“I live to serve, my queen,” he teases, leaning down to kiss the tip of my
nose before going to work putting all the supplies and uneaten food back into
the basket.
With everything put away, Eren leans his back against the rock and
grabs my hand. When he tugs gently, I sit up and climb over one of his thick
thighs to settle between his legs, leaning into the firm wall of his chest. Eren
makes a contented sound as I get myself comfortable, a faint purr kicking up
immediately.
I tip my head back into that purr, closing my eyes and basking in the
morning sun. A wave of warmth moves through me, all the way from where
Eren presses a kiss to my top of my head, down to the arm he winds around
my waist, and further still, filling me with contentment to the very tips of my
toes.
We stay like that for a few long minutes, breathing in the fresh air and
lungfuls of each other.
My mind is drifting, thinking about this place and the beauty of it, what
Eren said before about it being a part of his childhood.
“You mentioned coming here with your family?”
“Yes,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate.
Something about the reluctance in his answer has me cracking my eyes
open and glancing back over my shoulder at him.
I want to ask more, know more about him and his family and what his
life was like in the demon realm before I got here, but I don’t know how
much I should push. Since he’s king, it would stand to reason that his father,
at least, is probably gone, but what that means for his mother or any other
family… I don’t know if he’s anywhere near ready to share that with me.
Eren, though, surprises me by speaking again.
“My parents are no longer living,” he says. “My mother died first, in
childbirth eighteen years ago. The baby, too. My father followed them only a
couple of years later.”
“Eren,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
He gives me a small smile. “I would say it’s alright, that it’s in the past,
but most days it doesn’t feel like it is. I still miss them both terribly.”
“I’m sure you do.” I say, squeezing his hands in mine.
“There are many happy memories, of course,” he continues. “Like the
days I spent with them here. But also many that I find difficult to remember.
My father… he was like a shadow of himself after my mother died. They
were mates, and losing her was losing half of himself, with the loss of their
child making it all so much worse.”
Eren pauses, swallows thickly, and I stay silent until he’s ready to
continue speaking. All around us, the day presses in gently. No trace of bitter
magick on the air here, nothing but the peace of the breeze and the warm kiss
of sun on our skin.
“I felt very much alone before you arrived,” he says quietly.
His honesty reaches down and tugs at something near the center of my
chest.
“What about your friends?” I ask. “Your court?”
He shrugs, the movement of it shifting my body against his. “Things
changed when I became king. I had to grow up rather quickly, quit my
carousing and act like the respectable creature I was meant to be.”
I have to smile at that, wondering what kind of hellion he’d been in his
youth if he now qualifies as ‘respectable.’
Like he can sense my wry disbelief, Eren leans down and chuckles into
my ear. “Believe it or not, witch, but I was positively feral as a young
demon. With a rowdy group of friends to match.”
“Is that right?” I turn to face him.
“It is.” He flicks the tip of my nose gently with a claw, but then grows
thoughtful. “There are boundaries between king and court that didn’t exist
when I was merely the heir in waiting. Those boundaries make it difficult to
maintain the same relationships I had before.”
I know a thing or two about feeling disconnected from the people you
grew up with. For a very different reason, of course, but the sentiment feels
the same.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to share some of my past with him, but I hold
back. Whether to give him his own space to process whatever he’s thinking
about right now, or simply because I’m not ready to delve into those
memories with him, I’m not sure.
What I am sure of is that I don’t want my demon to feel alone.
“I’m here,” I tell him softly. “I hope that helps a little.”
“‘A little’ doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss
against my hair.
The next few minutes pass in silence, both of us lost in our own
thoughts.
I love it here. With the beauty of the meadow and the soothing warmth of
the day, it’s lazy, decadent, peaceful, and exactly what I didn’t know I
needed. Here, now, held by my demon husband, I can almost pretend this is
all going to work out. I can imagine a hundred days like this spread out over
the years.
“Would you like to go explore a little bit more?”
Eren’s voice pulls me out of my daydream.
“Ugh,” I protest. “That would mean having to get up.”
He chuckles. “I’m more than content to stay here, if that’s what you’d
prefer.”
I’ve sprawled further down in his arms, and when I crack my eyes back
open to look up at him, I find his handsome face closer than I expected. His
lips linger over mine for a moment, swallowing my contented sigh.
“No,” I grumble when he pulls back. “I’d like to get up and stretch my
legs.”
When we’re both upright, Eren grabs the basket, hesitating for a
moment.
Reading the cause for it immediately, I put my hands on my hips. “I
promise not to freak out again if you need to portal that somewhere.”
His bashful smile is absolutely growing on me. “I’ll be right back.”
When he disappears this time, I’m ready for it, and watch fascinated as
his edges blur and then blink completely out of existence. Reaching out to
touch the air where he’s just been standing, there’s absolutely no sign of a
portal, no remnant of the power that took him wherever it is he’s gone.
I’m still staring at that blank bit of space when two warm hands settle
on my hips, and I can’t stop the startled yelp that breaks for me.
“Hey!” I protest, whirling around to come face to face with Eren.
He’s unrepentant, leaning in to press a kiss against my lips. “Miss me?”
“Not if you intend on scaring me to death every time you do that.”
The complaint is good-natured, and I don’t hesitate for a moment before
taking his hand and letting him lead me up the grassy slope away from the
lake.
When we reach the trees’ edge, dark, towering pines stretch above, and
a narrow footpath wends its way over a soft forest floor strewn in pine
needles and a carpet of soft moss.
“Where are we going?” I ask Eren as he leads us forward down the
path.
“I thought we’d climb up to a little lookout.”
I nod in agreement, and we walk in silence for a while. The slope
upwards is gentle, the air a little crisper as we walk when a breeze kicks up
off the mountains above.
A thought occurs to me a few minutes later. “What kind of lookout is
this?”
He looks over at me, a little puzzled. “A scenic one? It’s a nice place to
take in the view.”
“Oh,” I say lightly. “Scenic overlooks have a bit of a different
connotation in the human realm.”
There’s just enough teasing in the remark to pique his interest. “Oh? And
what connotation would that be?”
“Well, a scenic lookout in the human realm is where people sometimes
go to hook up.”
“Hook up?” he asks, like the term is unfamiliar to him.
“Make out?” I try. “Fool around?”
“You go to scenic spots to have sex?”
“Well, that’s putting it a little bluntly, but yes, sometimes,” I say,
shrugging casually. “It must not be the same in the demon realm.”
“Bold of you to assume that it isn’t.”
Eren has stopped walking, and when I turn back around to face him, he’s
got his arms crossed over his chest and a strange, studying sort of look on his
face.
Now I’m getting somewhere.
“So,” I ask, crossing my own arms to mimic his pose. “You’ve never
taken a demon honey of yours up to this lookout to do some fooling around?”
“I may have,” he allows, matching my mock-serious tone. “In my
younger, wilder days.”
I can almost see it, the younger demon he would have been. Just as
handsome, but maybe a little more devilish, certainly with fewer pressures
and concerns weighing him down. It makes me ache, for just a moment, to
wonder if he’ll ever know that kind of carefree exuberance again.
Not ready to let the magick of this morning die, and with a growing
flame of hunger burning beneath my skin, I decide to push my demon a little
more.
“And how would that wild, younger Eren have reacted to learning he
was being forced to wed a witch?”
His eyes darken dangerously, my only warning before he steps quickly
toward me and presses his lips against my neck, fangs searching out his mark.
His hands grab onto my hips and pull me into him.
“No matter if I were twenty or eighty or two hundred, there still would
never have been a question in my mind that you were mine, Allison
Ashblood.”
That name again. Each time he says it, it seems to burrow its way a little
deeper under my skin and into my bones.
I let my head fall back, bearing my throat to him—his to mark, claim,
take.
Eren responds immediately. A growl rises in his throat and his arms
tighten possessively around me. From where our bodies are pressed together,
I can feel the hardening of his cock against my belly. I press even closer, and
the contact makes us both groan.
A moment later, though, he’s pulling away.
“Allie,” he says, voice a little unsteady and unmistakably wary.
The frustration I’d been trying to push down earlier comes back full
force. It bubbles up in a little groan of needy protest that has his hands
tightening where they’re still gripping my hips.
He’s being so careful with me.
Ordinarily, I might not mind it so much. After all, when’s the last time
someone’s cared enough to be careful with me?
Today, though, it bothers me.
It shouldn’t. Especially after we’ve shared so much, been so vulnerable,
I should appreciate this tenderness. Some part of me does—the scared,
vulnerable piece of my heart that still feels like the little girl told she wasn’t
as powerful as all the other witches—but that part of me has gone curiously
quiet. It’s still there, but soothed for now, less alone.
But the other part? The other part wants to say the hell with it all. The
other part wants the wildness of my demon back. That part wants to be
claimed and fucked, wants to know the powerful, delicious, earthy magick of
being taken by this male.
Even as that need burns through me, another thought pushes to the
forefront of my mind, putting a lead weight into my stomach.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I’m sure sex is the last thing on your mind, being
in this place, and after sharing everything you did with me. I shouldn’t have
—”
“Witch,” he interrupts harshly. “You could not be more wrong if you
tried. I want you with every damned breath I take. The first thought I had this
morning was of how much I wanted to be inside you, and it hasn’t been far
from my mind since then.”
Oh.
I sputter for a moment, trying to come up with a response.
“But this… this can wait,” he says, words harsh and hesitant, almost
painful, like it’s an effort to get them out. “I don’t want to pressure you. The
next time we fuck it will be because we both want it, freely and with nothing
compelling us to do so.”
Well. That makes me want to scream in frustration.
This demon. This damned, considerate, sexy demon who just wants my
consent and for me to be comfortable with him. I’m about to start ranting
again, assure him I want this, want him, when I realize it’s not likely to get
me anywhere.
Actions, I think, might speak louder than words.
A small, wicked smile turns up the corners of my lips and I glance out at
the surrounding forest. Yes, action is definitely the better course.
“I understand,” I tell him, perfectly composed. “And besides, you’re the
upstanding, respectable demon king now. Certainly too dignified to chase me
through these woods and claim me right after breakfast.”
Just like I knew they would, the words spark something in my demon.
His red eyes blaze and his wings spread instinctively behind him in
preparation for flight.
“Allison,” he whispers.
I take a step backwards. Then another. Not running, not fleeing, but
inching further and further away from him.
“Witch,” he says, an unmistakable warning.
“Demon,” I respond. “Is something wrong?”
Another step, then two. A harsh growl breaks from Eren’s chest and a
wave of warm, toe-curling anticipation courses through me.
Things are finally getting interesting.
Chapter 25
Eren
“Allison Ashblood.” Her name is a warning, a promise. “You know what
happens if you run.”
Her eyes rake over me and her mouth parts on a gasp. I know what she
must see. The red of my eyes swallowed almost entirely by black, the
bunching of muscle, the flare of my wings in anticipation of flight.
A predator, more than ready for my prey.
The rational part of my brain has gone quiet. If it was still working, I
might try to slow this down, remember all the reasons why we should be
cautious, stop before we jump into anything we might come to regret. I take a
few deep breaths and almost leash the beast lurking under my skin. Almost. I
might have even achieved it if Allie’s wide-eyed expression didn’t melt at
that exact moment into another wicked little grin.
“Catch me if you can, demon.” She turns and runs, disappearing into the
trees.
At the sight of her fleeing, the last bit of rationality in me snaps.
There’s nothing left but instinct.
There’s nothing but the narrowing of the entire world down to the need
to chase her and capture her. To bring her to heel and remind her who she
belongs to now. It’s a command ricocheting through me with each strong,
steady beat of my heart.
Hunt her. Fuck her. Claim her.
Allie wants to play? We’ll play.
I cut higher up the mountain, staying in the trees just above the path she’s
taken. Keeping my feet light and my wings tucked tight, I search for her trail
in the soft fragrance of the morning air.
She’s quick, but not nearly quick enough to outrun me. If it were any
demon but me chasing her… no. I let out an audible growl at the thought.
She’ll never be anyone’s prey but mine. I’d hunt her from one corner of the
realm to the next, I’d frighten her just enough to excite her and taste her sweet
fear, I’d catch her and bite her and sink soul-deep into her, but anyone who
tries to do the same? I’d tear them limb from limb.
Setting off after my quarry, I let the lingering smell of her scent and her
magick lead me through the forest. It’s slower going than I’m used to, being
on foot, but I’d have this hunt last as long as possible. No quick chase today.
No swooping in to carry her off before I’ve gotten my fill of her.
She’ll be expecting me to hunt her from above. With any luck, she’ll be
too busy focusing her attention on the skies to notice the predator stalking her
through the woods.
It doesn’t take long before I get close enough to hear her soft, careful
footsteps over the moss and pine-needle covered forest floor. A few
moments later and I spy her through the trees. She’s moving quickly and
deftly, avoiding patches of rocky ground and ducking around branches.
Clever prey, my Allie, and all that much more satisfying to capture.
Staying tucked into the shadows beneath the trees and mirroring her
moves from a ridgeline above, I let myself get close enough to hear her soft,
muffled pants. Exertion and determination and fear all mingled in a way that
pulses straight down to my cock.
And when a wave of her scent reaches me on a breeze, I’m lost.
I need her.
I need those panting cries beneath me, the exquisite feel of her soft body
and her slick cunt. I need the taste of her blood on my tongue and her magick
breaking over me when she comes.
Goddess, I’ve never needed anything more.
Even though I’d intended to take my time, the need is great enough that
even the chase can wait. How long has it been since I had her? The night we
met and married seems ages ago. Too long, far too long.
Drawing back a little, I descend from the ridge to follow in her tracks.
Her scent is stronger at this level, and before long, I’ve nearly caught up to
her.
Like she can sense I’m near, she freezes, every muscle in her body going
taut and still. I can almost feel the force of her straining to hear, the tension of
waiting for the predator who stalks her to strike.
Unable to suppress a grin, I move silently through the woods behind her,
circling her, putting myself in position to cut off her path if she runs. And, just
because I’m a bastard, I decide to play with her a little more.
I press my foot down on a fallen twig, snapping it gently. In the silence,
the small snap sounds like a crack of thunder.
Allie, to her credit, startles but doesn’t cry out and give her position
away. Not that it’s enough to deter me. A tendril of sweet, sharp fear reaches
through the trees around me and I breathe it deep, savoring the mingled desire
shot through it.
Still standing absolutely motionless, Allie has her hand clamped over
her mouth, her eyes wide in surprise and fear, twin flags of rosy red on her
cheeks. She looks skyward, searching for me. She’s beautiful, so achingly
lovely it draws another sharp pang of desire all the way through me. I want to
claim that beauty, taste it, devour it completely.
Enough. I’ve had enough of this.
Moving swiftly through the trees, I dart up behind her. She doesn’t even
have a moment to scream before I’ve sunk my fangs into her neck. One hand
snaps up to bracket her throat and the other bands like iron around her waist.
Mine. She’s mine. Mine to claim. Mine to keep.
Like every time I’ve tasted it, her blood sings through me like the
sweetest enchantment. Floral and rich, dark and tempting, each swallow
drives me a little closer to blissful insanity.
“Eren!” Allie’s cry is half-scream, half-moan as I sink even deeper.
Her body is straining, arching, twisting in a pleasure I can taste with
each draw from her. Pulling away from her throat, I turn her roughly in my
arms and catch her long, dark hair in my fist. Her creamy throat exposed
completely, I lap at the twin tracks of blood seeping from the mark I’ve
made.
“You ran, witch,” I hiss into her ear. “You knew what would happen.”
“I—I did,” she stutters in a breathless whine. “I knew, and I did it
anyway.”
The little siren. Knowing just what to do to make me crazy. Knowing
how to bend me, break me, control me completely.
The animal inside me growls and the sound cuts harshly through the
silence of the forest, making her gasp.
“Provoking me like that deserves a punishment,” I tell her, pulling her
hair even tighter. “What do you think your penance should be?”
“I… I…” She can’t finish the thought when I return to my mark, sucking
and laving over it, savoring every last taste of her.
And why should I let the prey determine her punishment, anyway?
Keeping my grip on her hair, I bring a claw to the front of her tunic. It
tears with ease, falling open to the fitted white camisole she’s wearing
beneath. The thin cover does nothing to conceal the pink of her nipples where
they strain against the fabric.
With a rough growl, I tear the tunic completely away. Another swipe of
my claws—careful enough not to cut her but swift enough to draw a surprised
gasp—leaves her entire torso bare. Her chest is heaving with her fast,
aroused breath, and when I run a thumb over one of those pert, perfect
nipples it pebbles even tighter beneath my touch.
Leaning back, I stare down at my mate, surveying her. Seeing her here,
bared, caught by me in the wilderness is a powerful, primal thing.
I need to see the rest of her.
“Boots off,” I order. “Now.”
Though it makes me even more of a bastard, I don’t let her have an inch
more than she needs to shimmy and kick them off. When they’re discarded,
my hands land immediately on the waistband of her trousers. Ripping them
down the front, the fabric sags against her hips and reveals the little pair of
panties she’s wearing beneath.
“More lace,” I growl, running a clawed thumb under the waist of them,
brushing against the top of her sex. “What did I say about lace?”
The harsh comment draws my witch’s ire. “Nothing that I intend to listen
to.”
A heartbeat later, I’ve got her sprawled out on the forest floor, keeping
her supported with an arm as I follow her down so she doesn’t land too hard
on her bottom. A tug, another, and a single long, sharp tear and her pants and
those infuriating little panties are dealt with, leaving her completely nude in
front of me.
A worthy prize indeed. Every single hunter’s instinct in me roars to see
her so delicate, so helpless, ready for me to do whatever I’d like to her.
Well, maybe not so helpless.
With a sharp kick aimed at my gut, Allie rolls and attempts to flee. She
doesn’t even make it to her feet before I’ve got her belly-down on the ground.
The forest floor is soft, covered in a carpet of moss, but I lean down and
whisper into her ear to be sure.
“You remember the words?”
“Yes,” she whispers back. “‘Rose petals’, and you’ll stop.”
“Good girl.”
The praise sends a little shiver through her, though it’s only a few
seconds more before she’s struggling again, trying to wriggle away from me.
I still her with two firm hands on her hips. “Enough of that, witch.
Surrender to me and there might be some reward in it.”
Allie struggles even harder. “I think I’d rather take my punishment.”
Fire. Liquid fire runs through my veins with those tempting, taunting
words of hers. My hand connects sharply with her bare ass, and Allie sucks
in a breath.
“Fuck!”
That bit of profanity is another shot of flame in my gut. I spank her
again, and she lets out a ragged scream.
“Any words for me, witch?”
Even now, half-crazed and lost in the hunt's thrill as I am, no part of me
would see her hurt. It’s a silent vow, as deep as the words I spoke to her in
those woods when we wed. She’s mine to claim, yes, but also mine to
protect.
“No,” she moans. “No words, sir.”
Sir.
Fuck. Fuck, but that’s erotic. Maddening little witch.
Hands still steady on her hips, I draw her up and back until she’s raised
onto her knees, forearms braced on the ground in front of her. Retracting my
claws, I draw a finger down the full, luscious swell of her ass and lower
still, brushing up against her cunt.
Wet and hot and ready for me, Allie lets out a low groan when I linger
there, dipping just inside.
“My mate,” I murmur, well beyond caring that the term is still a point of
contention between us. “You’re so wet for me. So hot for me, aren’t you?”
“No,” she protests, even as she arches back into me, greedy cunt
contracting to take my intruding finger deeper.
“Yes,” I growl, sinking that finger all the way inside of her. “Yes, witch,
you are. You’re a mess for me. So eager. So wanting.”
Crooking my finger forward to hit that spot so deep inside of her, I
watch the muscles of her back tense and bunch, and then go lax when I press
harder. Her echoing moan makes my tail thrash behind me in agitated, pent up
excitement.
Magnificent. My Allison is magnificent.
I bring my other hand to the back of her neck, holding her down and still
as I continue to work her. With each gasp and tortured groan I draw from her,
my need grows more acute. It would be all too easy to withdraw my hand,
unfasten my trousers, and sink into her, but that’s not what I’m after.
A complete conquering is what I seek, a pleasure so consuming it
brands her, makes her surrender entirely. My prey, my mate, my wife.
“Maybe that should be your punishment,” I muse, withdrawing my
finger. “Maybe I should leave you wanting and empty.”
“No!” Her denial is immediate and vehement, drawing a low, cruel
chuckle from me.
“No?” I ask, bringing my finger back to her cunt and drawing it slowly
over her soaked flesh.
Allie squirms under my touch. “No, sir.”
A hand on her ass, gripping her tightly. “Then what is it you want?”
“Y-you. I want you.”
She doesn’t have to ask twice. Hastily undoing the ties at the waist of
my trousers, my cock springs painfully free, and I grasp it firmly in hand
before running it up and down the length of her, coating the tip in her
dampness. When I push it forward to bump against her clit, she cries out and
arches against me.
“Again,” Allie moans. “Please.”
Having her so pliant and willing, I’m more than happy to oblige. I rub
over her sensitive peak once, twice, again and again, until she’s rolling her
hips in time with my thrusts.
“Please,” she says again. “Please Eren.”
A sweeter plea I’ve never heard.
“You want this?” I ask her, notching my cock against her entrance.
“Yes!” she cries, trying to push herself back onto me.
I still her with a hand. “There’s something I still need from you, witch.”
The movement of her body on mine threatens to undo me, make me
forget myself entirely. But it’s not enough, not nearly enough.
“I need to know who you belong to, Allie.”
The command makes her cry out, pushing against me, begging with that
sweet body of hers. But I won’t, I can’t appease her until I have the words. I
lean down over her, my body covering her from her plush ass all the way up
to the hot, sweaty nape of her neck where I nip and whisper against her skin.
“Say it.”
“You,” she relents on a sound caught somewhere between a moan and a
sob. “Only yours. Always yours.”
Mine.
Triumph roars through me as I sink my fangs and my cock into her at the
same time. The sound she makes this time is undoubtedly a sob, but one of
pure want, pure need, pure pleasure that blooms across my tongue and into
my lungs with each inhale. The sensation of it sinks so deep I imagine I can
feel it imprinted on my very soul.
Her soft, generous ass is pliant and giving beneath my hands, flesh
rippling with each hard thrust into her. It’s heaven, and hell, this warm,
wanting piece of her.
When I pull away from her neck to watch my cock moving in and out of
her, see my knot pressing up against her cunt with each thrust, my rational
mind stutters around the edges. The mating instinct grips me like a vise. The
urge to knot her, rut her, fill her with my seed and watch her body swell with
my child, is overwhelming.
And by the way Allie presses back against me, the way she shifts and
opens herself even wider, like she’s trying to take me all the way inside, I
nearly break. It’s only giving my head a sharp shake, leaning back and pulling
a breath of fresh, cool forest air into my lungs that gives me clarity.
Not now. Not yet.
Reaching down between our joined bodies and finding her clit, I roll it
firmly under my thumb. Allie lets out a strangled cry in response.
“Come for me, witch,” I rasp, leaning down to whisper it against her
ear. “Let go.”
Her body clenches on me in the first waves of her climax, and beyond
the mind-numbing physical sensation, another wave of power rolls over my
skin.
Only this time it’s not just the gentle imprint of her magick I feel.
No, as Allie comes, the sky above us booms with thunder, lightning
cracks, and a sudden, warm rain begins to fall over the forest. The scent of
petrichor is heavy as the earth drinks in the much-needed moisture.
Quenched, satisfied, grateful, as am I. My own orgasm rips through me in
time with hers.
Allie presses herself back against me, taking everything I have to give
her and testing the limits of her own body as she arches and begs silently for
my knot.
Goddess, how I’d like to give it to her.
Even now, I can imagine how she’d stretch to take me. She’d need some
gentle coaxing, a little soothing, but she’d come to enjoy it before long, being
so entirely filled by me.
I shake the thought away as another rumble of thunder sounds above us.
The rain runs over us both, soaking into our skin and raising waves of
goosebumps on Allie’s quivering flesh. I attempt to rub them away as I
soothe her through the last tremors of her release.
“Did I do that?” Allie’s voice is listless and dazed as she glances up at
the clouds that have materialized above.
“Yes, witch,” I tell her, reluctantly easing out of the tight embrace of her
body. “You’ve summoned a storm with your passion.”
“I didn’t mean to.” Allie is panting, and flips over to sprawl out on the
forest floor with a pleasure-drunk smile on her lips. The rain has slowed
from a deluge to a drizzle and she raises one hand up to catch a few drops in
her palm. “This is kind of cool though, isn’t it?”
I drag my fingers over one of her hardened nipples, flicking it gently.
Her whole body tenses in response.
“Ugh,” she protests. “Too sensitive.”
Removing my hand from her breast, I lay it in the center of her chest. “Is
this alright, wife?”
Allie arches a little into the touch. “Yes, that’s fine.”
We stay that way for a few long moments. Beneath my hand, her raindamp skin rises and falls as her breathing settles back to normal. Her heart,
too, gallops for a little while before subsiding. In the wild race of her pulse
and the fast breath that darts in and out of her lungs, the distinct tang of her
magick lingers.
The feel of it makes me shudder. Allie, missing nothing, stares up at me
with an eyebrow cocked in question.
“What is it?”
I grunt a non-answer before rolling away from her, settling myself still
fully clothed onto the ground beside her. She’s on me immediately, draping
her naked body over mine and propping herself up with an elbow rested on
my chest. With soft rain still falling over us and her hair in a tousled, damp
cloud around her head, Allie looks like some sort of forest nymph.
“What did you claim from me, demon king?” she asks.
What did I claim from her? A surrender sweeter than hearthberry jam. A
climax which ripped through me with the entire power of her storm.
Allie’s looking at me with a light, teasing gleam in her eyes. Playful,
undeniably sexy.
Nowhere near what I want from her.
I force my face into a hard smirk. “I claimed precisely what I sought,
witch. Your surrender.”
My hands are resting on the soft skin of her back, and with those words
she tenses a little. It’s small, almost imperceptible, but there.
“My temporary surrender,” she says, still with a playful edge to her
voice. “You can’t expect this obedience to continue indefinitely.”
No, I can’t. And nor should she trust me with that surrender, if it’s only
meant to be temporary. She doesn’t know, she still doesn’t know all the ways
I would claim her.
If she did know? If Allie knew that in my mind I’ve already bound my
own life to hers, that from the moment I scented her in the human realm I
realized and accepted I was hers and hers alone, that I want her to do the
same with me, she’d likely be frightened by it.
Humans don’t have mates.
Still, she’s willing to share this much with me. She’s willing to share
her body, if not her mind and spirit, though I should know better than to
accept it. I should know enough to protect myself, hold back from her, keep
my distance.
No part of me is able to do that.
Allie is every inch the siren, the temptress, the lure keyed to my blood.
Even if I wished to keep my distance, I’d be helpless. I tried. I tried for
one miserable day and I failed. If she’d been unwilling, if she’d been cold or
afraid or tentative, I would have kept my hands and my fangs to myself.
There’s nothing more distasteful to me in this world than my mate’s reticence,
and nothing more enticing than her enthusiasm.
“I’ll take every moment of surrender I can from you, witch,” I tell her,
leaning in to press a line of kisses up the side of her neck. “Everything you’re
willing to give me, I’ll take.”
Allie sighs, the words enough to soothe her for the moment. Her body is
pliant against me, a beautiful, yielding thing that fits its contours into mine
instinctively. She winds her arms up around my neck, clutching tightly and
pressing her lips into the pulse point at my throat.
Here is my mate. Here is my fated one, and she doesn’t accept it.
Yet.
Pulling away, I meet her befuddled expression with a smile. “Let’s head
back home, love.”
Whether it’s the tenderness in my voice or the endearment used, I’m not
certain. What I do know is that Allie rises from the forest floor immediately.
She comes to her knees and pivots toward me, looking down with a little
frown on her face.
“I’m naked.”
“You are,” I agree.
“And what do you suggest? Are you just going to fly me back with all
my bits hanging out?”
“As tempting as that sounds,” I tell her, getting to my feet and helping
her up. “I thought a portal might be a better option.”
She shakes her head in mock-exasperation, but reaches out and accepts
the hand I offer. It takes only a moment of concentration here, so close to the
center of power in the realm, to open a portal in front of us. Wrapping both
my arms around her, I step us forward and hear her small gasp as we travel
through it. It’s immediately followed by a yelp when a sharp mountain wind
whips around us.
“Eren!” she squeals. “You couldn’t have portaled us inside?”
Laughing, I scoop her into my arms and carry her toward the
mountainside portal leading into our chamber. Another small wave of magick
breaks over us as we step through into the waiting warmth.
“Forgive me, wife,” I tell her, leaning my head down to catch a coldhardened nipple between my lips. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Not an excuse,” she complains, wiggling out of my arms. “You’re the
one who’s still fully clothed.”
While she goes into the bathroom to clean up, I lay on the bed to rest for
a moment, every cell of my body still flushed with the pleasure of our
joining.
Goddess, I’ll never tire of it.
It’s just a few minutes later when Allie reemerges with her hair brushed
out and all the smudges of dirt from our romp in the forest washed away.
She’s dressed in a light, gauzy gown of emerald green.
“If we don’t have any more plans for the day, I thought I might go back
down to Vayla’s workroom and…”
Allie trails off, and just as I’m about to ask her what’s wrong, I feel it.
Somewhere deep, deep in the stone beneath us, an ancient-sounding,
ominous groan rises through thousands of feet of mountain. When I stand from
the bed, I can feel the echoes of it through my boots. It’s followed a moment
later by a great rumbling shake, like the mountain itself is threatening to come
down on us.
Horror lances through me. For my court and this keep, yes, but also for
the woman standing wide-eyed across from me. In that moment, it’s Allie’s
own wellbeing I consider first.
“Eren?” Allie asks in a voice laced with fear. “What is that? What’s
going on?”
Instead of answering, I cross the room and pull her to me. An instant
later we’re out of the mountain, standing in the middle of a cabin some
twenty miles away. It’s a place of peace and respite my parents built for
when they needed a little time away from court matters, and the first place I
thought of to tuck Allie safely away.
Whatever’s just happened, I don’t want her anywhere near it.
“Stay here,” I tell her, already summoning a portal to take me back. “It’s
safe. I’ll send someone shortly to guard you.”
“Eren,” she says, still clearly shaken. “What was—”
“I’m sorry,” I say, taking a step toward her and grasping both her hands
in mine. “I have to find out what happened, and I need to know you’re safe.”
Her eyes dart across my face, filled with silent concern. “Okay. Okay.
You’re… you’re right. And I’ll be fine here. Just… you need to be safe too.
Promise me?”
“I promise,” I tell her, not knowing if it’s true.
Still, I would do anything to keep her from worrying about me.
With a last glance at Allie and dread curling up from the bottom of my
soul, I summon a portal to take me back to the keep.
Chapter 26
Allie
When Eren disappears, I’m left alone in the middle of some sort of cabin.
The style of it reminds me of Swiss chalets and long winter nights in front of
a fire, but looking around the room, it’s clear no one’s used it in a long, long
time.
It must be safe, though, if Eren thought it was better for me to be here
than stay with him in the mountain.
My stomach clenches with fear and worry. The idea of him heading
back into whatever just happened is horrifying, and even though he promised
me he’d be safe, his eyes were filled with doubt.
It was an impossible promise to ask, but the idea of Eren in danger, of
the entire court in danger, of even more chaos and suffering because my
magick isn’t enough to make this realm stable…
It’s already happening, isn’t it?
My power isn’t enough to stop whatever was put in motion while
Emilia was here. It’s not my fault, I know it’s not my fault, but the guilt and
blame creeps up my throat in a strangle-hold.
Just before Eren portaled us here, I could taste it. The same caustic,
bitter magick that greeted us when we arrived in the demon realm. It’s
magick that feels unstable to its core. Pervasive, reaching magick that wants
to grab and infect and destroy. I taste a little of it on my tongue, even now.
Pacing the room, I take deep, steadying breaths to banish the last of it
from my lungs.
It’s no use.
If whatever just happened was part of the consequences of the failing
bargain, how long before those consequences come for me, too? Sure, I’ve
grasped a bit of power, and have gotten brief glimpses of the magick Eren
and I might create together, but what good is that in the face of all this? For
all I know, the entire mountain has collapsed, taking the court and courtiers
with it…
No. I can’t let myself go there, not yet. Me falling apart before I even
know how bad things are isn’t going to help this situation in the slightest.
Taking a few more deep breaths, I try to get my bearings and figure out
where exactly I am.
Eren portaled us into a large living space in the middle of the cabin. The
walls and ceilings are beamed in sturdy dark wood, and along one wall a
huge fieldstone mantle stretches from the floor to the lofted ceiling two
stories above. The opposite wall is made of enormous windows that look out
on a stunning mountain vista.
Though grand, everything is covered in a layer of dust. The inside of the
cabin is quiet enough to make me confident I’m here alone.
There are white cloths draped over all the furniture to keep the dust off,
and any rugs that might have been laid out on the solid wood floors have long
since been picked up and stored away somewhere. Beyond the physical
starkness of the room, there’s a sense of emptiness that lingers around the
entire place.
Glancing through an archway at the back of the room, I spy something
that looks like a kitchen and dining area. With nothing to do but explore, I
wander through the other rooms on the ground floor. Like the living space,
everything here is also unused and dust-coated.
A kitchen sits in the center of the cabin, with a huge, wood-fired oven
and stone counter tops. Beyond it, a formal dining space with a table big
enough for twenty, another large stone hearth, and a chandelier hung with
cobwebs.
Despite the dreariness of its current condition, the cabin is lovely.
Rustic and charming in its own way. It’s easy to imagine this place cleaned
up and washed in candlelight, hearths blazing, and snow falling over the
spectacular view outside.
Stopping for a moment at the dining room windows to take it in, I look
out over a beautiful vista. It looks like a postcard, picture perfect. The
sloping yard around the cabin is blooming with spring grasses and
wildflowers now, but the peaks beyond are still snow-capped, and if I close
my eyes, I can almost see the entire scene how it would look draped in thick
winter snow.
Wandering away from the windows, I head back toward the main room,
stopping in a large entrance foyer. Across from the front door, a grand
wooden staircase with intricately carved banisters leads to another level
above. Curious, I’m about to start up the stairs to check out the second floor
when a noise behind me catches my attention.
Someone is knocking at the front door.
Heart jumping into my throat, I freeze with my foot on the bottom step
and my hand clenched painfully on the railing. The knock comes again, and I
stay frozen there, rooted to the spot with fear and indecision.
But… no. Eren said he would send someone, didn’t he? This must just
be whoever he’s asked to come and guard me. Who would even know I’m
here if he hadn’t told them? And why would a demon who wanted to harm me
bother knocking at all if they could just portal into the cabin and catch me by
surprise?
Another knock, and I make my decision.
As it turns out, it’s a good one. Felix is standing on the other side of the
door, and he dips into a bow when I open it.
“Hello, my lady,” he says graciously. “I trust you’re doing alright?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “I just… Eren left so quickly. Is he… is
everything alright?”
Even Felix’s easy charm takes a hit at the question. His eyes cloud with
worry and that ever-teasing smile of his turns down into a tense frown. “I
can’t say for certain. I was in another part of the keep when the earthquake
struck. They’re evacuating everyone to be safe.”
Earthquake. So that’s what it was. I’ve never experienced one before,
but somehow I don’t think they’re typically so…violent.
Realizing Felix is still standing out on the threshold, I gesture for him to
come in.
“I don’t know what this place is,” I tell him, shutting the door behind us.
“Eren didn’t explain before he left.”
Some of the tension leaves Felix’s face as he looks around the room.
“Eren’s parents built this cabin decades ago,” he explains. “They came here
to get away from court life every once in a while. Eren made use of it too, of
course, though less for peace and restorative retreat than for carousing.”
I huff a small, unsurprised laugh at that. “Is that so? And were you one
of his guests for all that carousing?”
Felix lays a hand on his heart. “Of course not. I am far too civilized and
high-minded for such behavior.”
His devilishly handsome smirk undercuts his words.
“Of course you are.”
He winks. “Have you already done some exploring?”
I tell him I have, and the two of us make our way back to the large living
space. He looks around the room wistfully, some memory bringing a small
smile to his lips.
“Do you know when Eren will be back?” I ask him.
Felix’s smile vanishes and his brow creases again. “I’m sorry, I don’t.
When I left, the whole place was in chaos. I imagine he’ll be occupied for
quite a while.”
A heavy weight drops into my stomach. At the same time, another
thought occurs to me.
“Would it be better for you to be back there?” I ask. “I’m fine here. I
mean, I don’t need a babysitter or anything. If it would be better for you to
—”
“Majesty,” he cuts in, attempting to stem the flow of words.
“Allie,” I interject before he can continue. “Allie is just fine. There’s no
need to be so formal. I’m just—”
“Queen consort of the demon realm.”
The words are gentle, but they land with the weight of a solid punch to
the gut.
Queen consort of the demon realm. Funny how quickly I forgot that fact
after the easy, blissful morning I shared with my demon king husband. Maybe
it’s because Eren makes it all too easy to forget.
“Please don’t demean your position here, majesty,” Felix says softly.
“Your importance to this realm and its king cannot be understated.”
A tight lump of emotion lodges itself in my throat.
“And my being here is every bit as important as Eren being there for his
court. It’s my duty and my honor to see to your safety.”
“Thank you,” I croak. “I just didn’t… I’m not sure if it was something
I… if it was my fault…”
The words trail off into silence and Felix shakes his head emphatically.
“Nobody is blaming anyone for what happened, least of all you.”
I nod, but the memory of Vayla’s coldness is stuck in my mind. How
many other demons might look at me just as skeptically, take note of my
meager magick and come to their own conclusions?
“Now,” Felix says, injecting a little good humor back into his voice,
“how about we try to make this place a little more comfortable?”
As we get to work taking a few of the dust covers off the furniture, I try
to tamp down some of the worry that’s still threatening to choke me.
“Do you call Eren ‘majesty’?” I ask, truly curious.
“Only when we’re in court.”
“And when you’re not?”
“When we’re not, I call him ‘bastard’ more than anything else. ‘Eren’ if
I’m feeling generous.”
A laugh—a true, improbable laugh—breaks from me. “Somehow I’m
not surprised. But if that’s the case, why can’t you drop the formalities for me
as well? Who’s around to care?”
I gesture to the empty cabin around us, and when I look back at Felix, I
find him studying me with a focused, contemplative expression on his face.
“You would be comfortable with that?”
“Of course!” I say, laughing again. “I was a librarian back in my realm.
Hardly royalty. The title makes me a little uncomfortable, if I’m being
honest.”
“I don’t know if Eren would—”
“I can deal with Eren.”
“Is that so?” Felix asks, interest growing even more acute. “You’ve got
the demon king all figured out?”
Something about the question has reality crashing back into me. While
we’re here, chatting and safe and far away from whatever’s happening in the
chaos back at the mountain keep, Eren’s still there and in danger. It sobers me
immediately.
“I don’t know,” I tell Felix honestly, voice breaking a little. “I’d like to
think that one day I might.”
One day. Some distant future where the realm is safe and my Goddessselected husband is mine fully. Mine to claim and keep, mine to enjoy
without fear.
It’s been hard to think of anything beyond the immediate need and
danger, hard to imagine what it might mean for me long-term that I’m a Tithe
bride bound to this realm and this king. It’s hardly any easier to imagine that
future now, with Eren at risk and the entirety of our lives together up in the
air.
“You’ll come to know him, Allie,” Felix says gently. “All of him. If I
know one thing about my king, it’s that he’d never keep anything from his
mate. He’s a loyal soul, and loyal to you above all.”
Tears threaten at the backs of my eyes. “Thank you, Felix.”
Knowing there isn’t much more to be said at the moment, the two of us
go back to work making the space livable again. Covers come off sofas and
chairs, and I venture into the kitchen to find a broom to sweep out the hearth.
Felix ducks outside and comes back with a stack of dried logs to lie down
for a fire.
“I’ve got it,” I tell him. “Stand back?”
Though he arches a brow, Felix obliges. Closing my eyes, I concentrate
on bringing a hotter, more incendiary version of the witchlight I summoned
last night to the tips of my fingers. When I’m certain I’ve got it, I cast it out to
the waiting logs. They break into an immediate, crackling blaze, and when I
glance back and catch Felix’s surprised expression, a little thrill of pride
moves through me.
“Well done,” he tells me.
The chairs we settle into are stiff with age, but comfortable enough with
the roaring fire in front of us. Silence falls between us as we both sit and
contemplate the shifting flames.
“Felix,” I ask after a few minutes. “How long have you known Eren?”
“All my life,” he says with a smile. “And as such, I am in a unique
position to tell you any number of embarrassing stories about your husband.”
“Oh,” I say, rubbing my hands together in over-exaggerated glee.
“Please do.”
He tells me about some of the trouble he and Eren got into as young
demons. Pranks pulled and risky, childish behavior that had both their
mothers groaning with frustration. Laughingly, he tells me about a female
demon both he and Eren tried to impress when they were adolescents with
increasingly outlandish feats of bravery, only for her to reject them both.
“I imagine that taught you both your lesson about how to impress a
woman,” I tell him, wiping a tear of laughter away from the corner of my eye.
“Not at all,” Felix assures me with a grin. “And, as you can see, both of
us remained resolutely unentangled. Well, at least until the Goddess decided
otherwise for him.”
“Tell me about that,” I urge, painfully curious. “When I was chosen for
the Tithe, I just started… well, as weird as it sounds, I just started glowing.
Eren was already there, on the other side of the Veil.”
“It happened a little sooner for him. About two days before he traveled
through the Veil, he was sitting in court and his eyes started glowing. A bit
unsettling, to be honest. We have enough record of how the Tithe has worked
in the past for him to know what it meant immediately.”
“He seemed so… I don’t know. Cool, confident, completely unfazed by
it all.”
“In some ways, I think he was expecting it.”
“What makes you say that?”
Felix shrugs. “With everything happening in the realm, with Emilia’s
magick failing, he’s always seen it as his responsibility to fix things. That
night, when he called us to his council chambers to tell us his plans, he
hardly seemed surprised.”
“Well,” I say, turning those words over in my mind, “I’m glad it was
him.”
He smiles at that. “I can confidently say he feels the same way.”
“Oh really? What makes you so sure?”
“Well, for one, I thought I spotted a freak thunderstorm up on the ridge
this morning,” Felix says with a grin that makes me go red all the way to my
roots. “You and Eren wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would
you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him, eyes fixed firmly
on the fire.
“Of course not. And all that racket in Vayla’s workroom yesterday was
just, what? Spellwork? Lively debate about those books you were studying?”
“I—you—” I sputter, flushing even deeper. “Don’t you demons have a
filter?”
His laugh is rich and hearty. “None at all. Though I can attempt to put
one in place if my words offend you.”
I just roll my eyes. “I have a feeling that any filter you come up with
would still let through enough to make me blush.”
The conversation veers to less embarrassing topics. He tells me about
the different regions of this realm, rattling off names and facts I try to commit
to memory. We talk court politics—always boisterous and blustering, though
he speaks of his fellow courtiers with respect clear in his voice.
When the sun has set, Felix pulls some wrapped bread, cheese and
meats from his bag and we eat in companionable silence in front of the fire.
Hours pass with no sign of my demon. Though the conversation stays
light and Felix proves to be an excellent distraction from whatever’s
happening back at the mountain keep, it eventually catches back up to me.
Worry crashes into fatigue and fear, and settles on me like a truckload of
bricks.
“Is there anywhere upstairs I can lie down?”
Seeming to understand my need for some time alone, Felix nods and
shows me upstairs to the cabin’s main bedchamber.
It’s as dusty as the rest of the place, but it’s not hard to imagine how
undeniably cozy the room would be if it was aired out and polished up.
Another big window looks out over the mountain, providing what must be a
breathtaking view in the daytime. The bed’s not quiet as big as the one back
in our chamber in the mountain, but it’s still bigger than a California king—
built for wings, no doubt—and sits opposite the windows.
I pause for a moment with my hand on the bedframe. An image flashes in
my mind of tangled limbs and wings, a crackling fire keeping the room warm
while snow falls over the mountain outside. The scene comes complete with
clean, fluffy bedding piled high and a wicked, wicked demon all too eager to
worship me.
Shaking the thought aside, I turn to survey the rest of the room.
There’s another, smaller hearth in the chamber, and I return downstairs
briefly to grab an armful of wood. Felix stays below, bidding me good
evening as he goes to stand near the wall of windows, looking out into the
darkness.
When I’m satisfied with the way I’ve stacked the logs in the stone
hearth, I summon a sphere of witchlight. This fire starts as easily as the last,
and there’s something primitive and satisfying at being warmed by the flame
my own magick created.
Kicking off my shoes, I peel back the covers and look at what I’m
working with, wincing just a little. The blanket is dusty, smelling of
mothballs and age. The mattress is hardly any better. Running my hand along
it, inspiration strikes.
Another minor spell, but it’s worth a shot.
Lifting and moving objects with magick is something every young witch
learns how to do. Whether we can move a feather or a tractor-trailer, though?
That’s a matter of sheer power.
And me? The best I’ve ever done is lifting a pencil from one side of my
desk to the other.
It’s not sheer power I need now, however, but finesse. Like I had with
the water in the bath last night, but even more precise.
I close my eyes, raise both my hands in front of me, and concentrate.
The scent of dust and mothballs fills my nose, and I follow its path all the
way down to the individual fibers of the blanket. A pull of power, one gentle
tug, and I feel some of that dirt and grime lifting. Fragile, such fragile power
this is, but it comes to me as easily as breathing.
When I crack my eyes open, a ghostly cloud of dust and grime is hanging
over the bed. A shaky, surprised breath almost makes me drop it, but a
heartbeat later I recover myself and slowly bring my palms to center. The
dust-ghost follows, folding in on itself until it’s a neat, floating sphere I can
drop safely out of the way in the corner of the room.
It’s not perfect magick, and nothing short of a good wash will ever get
all the mustiness out of the bedding, but when I lean down and run my hand
over the blankets, I find them feeling a lot cleaner than they were a minute
ago. A prick of unexpected pride sparks in my chest.
I did this.
Every time the power comes, it surprises me. After so many years
without, I truly don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.
Satisfied enough with the state of the bed, I crawl in and tuck myself up
under the covers.
I shut my eyes and think of Eren, hoping he’ll return soon, hoping no one
was hurt, and that the keep wasn’t too damaged, hoping I don’t spend the
night lost in nightmares of earthquakes and bitter magick.
Chapter 27
Eren
Hundreds of my courtiers spread across the grassy foothills outside the
mountain keep as we do our best to sort through the aftermath of the
earthquake.
Members of the court and council pass food and blankets around as
afternoon bleeds into evening, though many courtiers have already chosen to
portal elsewhere for the night until we can determine if the keep is safe to
reenter. The main quake lasted nearly three minutes, rumbling up from the
earth below and shaking the entire mountain with it. What Allie and I felt was
merely a tremor, a warning shudder heralding the main event, and while I feel
some lingering shame at having left for even a moment during the disaster, I
have no regrets about seeing to her safety.
By the time I made it back, the evacuation had already started, and not
ten minutes later, the main quake hit. It shook the ground from the bedrock
upwards, and for a few stomach-lurching moments, I’d been certain the entire
structure of the mountain keep would cave in on itself. Not everyone had
been out by that point, and I’d never known such a black, soul-eating fear as I
had thinking it would come down.
In the end, it hadn’t been nearly as bad as it could have.
An expansion on the western side of the mountain collapsed during the
quake, undoing years of work in a moment. Fortunately, there had been
enough time between the first tremors and the collapse for many to evacuate.
Beyond that, many had already left the mountain to enjoy the fine spring day,
whittling away at the number of potential victims.
Those who remained made it out, and while a few were struck by
falling debris before they could portal or run out of the mountain, the injuries
were relatively minor, considering what the outcome could have been.
No deaths.
Lucky, so damned, incredibly lucky.
A small voice in the back of my mind questions how long that luck will
last.
That voice questions if the same corroded, destructive magick that’s
causing crop failures and torrential rains is behind this as well. Is this the
realm coming slowly apart at the seams? Crumbling beneath the failure of the
bargain?
Shaking the thoughts aside, I offer assurance to the courtiers I pass, stop
and assist with getting an older demon to his feet and on his way home. Some
call greetings, some merely huddle together in solace or portal away to stay
with friends or relations for the evening until we know whether it’s safe to
return.
Builders have been hard at work these last few hours determining if
there are any other areas of concern within the cavernous keep. So far, the
news seems good, but I won’t risk anyone else’s safety. No one will go back
in until first light at the earliest, and I work with my council to assure
everyone has another place to go tonight.
Once that particular problem has been dealt with and I’ve checked in
with my builders about the state of the western wing, I continue on down
toward the area set aside for Vayla to tend to the injured.
It’s a small, makeshift medic’s tent with supplies portaled in from other
areas in the kingdom. Vayla, hard at work patching up bumps and scrapes and
setting a couple of broken bones, turns and greets me a few minutes later
when she finishes with her current patient.
“Majesty,” she says with a small bow.
“Any serious injuries to report?”
“None. The worst was Meryl, who had a concussion, and we had
someone portal her down to Glen Verlan to her mother’s house to rest.”
I nod. “Good. Any other supplies you need?”
“Not right now.”
We both stare for a moment at the mountain, as if waiting for another
tremor to rock it, for a great cascade to reduce it to rubble.
“Your workshop is untouched,” I tell her, trying for a reassuring tone.
“The library as well. Nothing but the western tunnels seems to have been
impacted.”
Vayla makes a small noise of assent. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Silence falls again, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to say something
about the time she’s spent with Allie in her workshop, question what
happened during their afternoon together. However, considering the
circumstances, and that Allie would give me a healthy ration of hell if I
interfered when she expressly told me not to, I hold my tongue.
“The rest will be tended to?” I ask her instead. “And you’ll make it
known if you need any other supplies?”
“Yes to both, majesty,” she says with another small bow. “I had better
get back to work.”
Leaving the medical tent, I’ve barely made it a dozen steps when
another voice calls out from the opposite direction.
“Your majesty, a word?”
I turn to find Crowley, one of my most senior courtiers and a member of
my council, standing at the head of a small group with a dark expression on
his face.
“Yes?” I ask him, body already bracing for whatever it is he means to
say.
“You fare well? I trust you were not injured in the quake?”
I glance down at myself and shrug. “So it would seem.”
“And your consort?”
Asked by anyone else, I might make the mistake of believing it’s a good
faith question. From Crowley? It’s nothing more than an inroad to level more
criticism against the bargain and witchmagick which holds it together. When
Emilia’s power failed, he was one of the most vocal opponents of renewing
the bargain at all. And when the realm started to show signs of magickal
decay, he was among the first to call for a return to the old ways.
“She is well and safe.”
“Is she here? I have not seen her—”
“My consort is safe.”
Taking the hint, Crowley inclines his head slightly in deference. Still,
there’s something sour in his expression, something that hints he wants to say
more.
“Out with it,” I tell him, impatient.
On any other day, I might play along with him for another minute or two,
goad him a little to rile the temper he has on such a short leash. But today?
With my mate somewhere far away being guarded by another, and my court in
chaos, I have no time for it.
“Is what happened here today in any way related to the bargain?” he
asks, letting his mask slip entirely as his lips curl into a sharp sneer.
I bite back a growl. “It does no good to jump to those conclusions.”
Crowley scoffs. “Doesn’t it? Floods and famine and disaster, magick
which can’t keep this realm stable any longer. And there are some who
say…”
He trails off.
“Some who say what?”
There are few times when I feel the true need to exercise my power, few
times when I let the mantle of authority fall completely and flex the might my
position affords me. I’ve found it to be largely ineffective. My father taught
me that a good king rules with strength, yes, but also compassion, kindness
when possible, and by never forgetting that titles and formalities aside, there
is nothing at all which separates me from those I would rule.
It’s served me well, kept my head level and my kingdom running
smoothly.
But here? Now? With a portion of my capital in ruins and damning
accusations on this fool’s tongue? I feel no need to sensor myself.
Crowley still hasn’t answered.
“Some say what, Crowley?” I press him. “If you have something that
needs to be said, I suggest you say it and say it quickly. Before my patience
runs even thinner than it is now.”
He draws himself to his full height. “There are some who say that it’s
time to abandon the bargain and return to the old ways. That we’ll have no
peace until the bargain is discarded for something else.”
The old ways. Soul reaping. Harvesting the life essence from humans by
deceit and bargains and using it to power our realm. There’s not a demon
alive today who’s had to shoulder the burden of reaping, and we’ve been all
the better for it.
Crowley isn’t finished. “There are some who say the original magick of
the bargain has run its course and burned itself out. The last witch was proof
enough of that, wasn’t she? And now that another is here, nothing has
changed.”
“Enough,” I tell him. As willing as I am to suffer the old demon’s bitter
bile, I will not allow a single word against Allie to fall from his lips. “The
bargain stands, and the magick will renew itself once more, as it always does
when a Tithe bride is chosen.”
“As it always has until now.”
“Enough.” The growl in my throat has him taking a step back and away
from me.
As angry as I am, I don’t like the sight of it. He’s afraid. They’re all
afraid. And with good reason. No matter how much I flex my own power, it
doesn’t change the fact that we’re all standing here, in an unsettled realm,
while the fabric of the bargain continues to fray.
“Apologies, majesty,” he says, dipping his head.
I let out a long breath. “Tend to your family, Crowley. The rest of it can
wait for this evening.”
He gives me a curt nod and turns away, and as he goes, I can’t help but
notice that more than a few heads in the crowd behind him swivel away as
well, having obviously watched and listened in on our conversation.
How many of them agree with him? How many are, even now, weighing
the costs and benefits of moving on from the bargain and going back to the
old ways?
I can’t stop to consider it right now. The implications that kind of
thought could have for Allie, for us, for both our realms…It’s larger than I
can wrap my mind around at the moment.
If we were to break the bargain, go back to reaping…
No.
I push the thought aside as I’m called away by another courtier with an
update from the builders, letting the task at hand take up my attention
completely.
It’s a few more hours before I’m able to return to Allie. Tired to my
bones, it takes a full ten seconds to summon the portal I need to return to the
mountain cabin. Stepping into the living space, I find Felix standing and
staring out at the darkened woods through the room’s wall of windows.
He turns to greet me, tension clear on his face. “Any losses this
evening?”
Some of that tension loosens when I shake my head. “Not one. A few
injuries, none serious. We were lucky.”
“Lucky,” he murmurs, though I’m not sure it’s in agreement.
“How is my wife?”
Felix’s hardened expression softens into a genuine smile. “She went up
to bed some time ago. A good one, she is. I’d almost envy you for having her
if it weren’t for how obviously well-suited the two of you are to one another.
A sharp, unfamiliar tug in the center of my chest, at that. The closest
thing I’ve got in this realm to a brother, and his approval of her smooths
away some of the ragged edges and doubts still twisting and gnawing at me.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “I only hope she won’t come to regret that she
was the one who the Goddess chose for me.”
The honesty seems to catch him by surprise. Crossing from the window,
he walks over to me and claps a hand on my shoulder.
“Allie’s got more fight in her than that. The two of you will make each
other stronger, no matter what happens with the bargain.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Allie, is it? Since when do you treat her with such
informality?”
“Since she asked me to,” he says, shrugging. “A stubborn little witch,
that one.”
“Aye,” I agree. And one I don’t intend to let rest in peace for much
longer. “She’s upstairs?”
He nods. “Went up to sleep an hour ago.”
“Thank you for staying with her.” I clap a hand on his shoulder in return,
and neither of us seems to need any more words.
Felix portals away, leaving me alone in the quiet stillness of the cabin.
The memories of this place gather almost immediately, but there will be time
for them later. Tonight, it’s the present that has my complete attention.
Upstairs, I find Allie fast asleep, tucked in beneath a worn, slightly
dusty blanket that’s nowhere near fine enough for her. Seeing her here, forced
out of our home after only a couple of days in this realm, makes me feel ill. I
haven’t protected her like I should.
Why I brought her here, I’m still not entirely certain. This whole place
has sat unused for years, forgotten and gathering dust. There are a dozen other
places I might have taken her, residences in the larger cities of the realm set
aside and maintained for my use. Far grander places, tidy, comfortable ones.
Yet, when I had only moments to take her somewhere safe, this was the
instinctual choice.
“Allie,” I whisper, running a finger down her cheek.
Her nose scrunches adorably and she lets out an annoyed little huff of
breath before opening her eyes.
“Eren?”
I’m down beside her in a moment, pulling the covers back so I can slide
in beneath them. They’re not as musty and mothball-ridden as I thought they
would be, and I smile a little as I suspect my witch had something to do with
that. Allie comes readily into my arms, pressing herself tightly against me
and burrowing her face into my neck.
“Are you alright?” Her voice is tight and a little shaky.
“Shh,” I soothe, running a hand down the back of her hair. “I’m alright.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No serious injuries,” I tell her, pressing my lips to her temple.
“What about the keep? How much of it was destroyed?”
The worry in her voice cuts straight through to the core of me. “We can
talk about it in the morning. You must be exhausted.”
Was it only just this morning I had her writhing beneath me in the forest?
Was it only just hours ago that she and I had time together away from all of
this? What I wouldn’t give to live those hours over and over again, just to
savor her.
“Tell me,” she insists. “I want to know what happened, and if there’s
anything I can do to help.”
Instead of answering, I drape a wing over her, settle her even more
deeply into me and simply breathe her scent into my lungs. After the last few
hours, I swear it’s all I need to live. Just her, just my Allie, safe and in my
arms.
“Eren,” she protests.
“Allie.” I nuzzle into her neck.
Soft. She’s so impossibly soft, every inch of her kissable, bitable,
delicious. Letting my fangs drag along her skin, I’m rewarded by a low moan
and an arch of her back as she squirms against me.
“We need to talk,” she says, but it’s nearly lost in a hot, fervent rush of
breath when my hand curls around her ass, pressing her tight against my
growing erection.
I rock into her, rubbing the length of my cock into the vee of her thighs.
Even through the fabric, I can feel how hot she is. If I pulled that dress of
hers up around her hips and dipped my hand beneath the thin, lacy barrier of
her panties, I’m certain I’d find her wet and wanting and….
It’s only when I realize she’s placed a hand against my chest and is
pushing firmly against me that I pull away reluctantly, removing my wing and
leaning back so I can look into her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
Allie rolls her eyes. “You’re using sex to avoid the conversation.”
“And?” I ask.
With another firm push of her hand, she rolls away from me and comes
to a sitting position on the bed, tucking her legs beneath her.
We stare each other down for a few seconds. Her hair is a little mussed
with sleep, and the color of her cheeks is still high, but her gaze is focused,
serious, and more than a little bit pissed off.
Can I blame her? I’m acting like an ass.
She remains silent—watching, waiting for something from me. It’s not
hard to guess what she wants.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I shouldn’t have tried to use sex as a distraction.
I had just hoped we could enjoy a few hours of peace before facing
everything that happened today.”
Her expression softens into one of understanding. “I get that. And I’m so
sorry, Eren, for anyone who was injured and all the damage to your home.”
I nod around the sudden tightness in my throat. “Our home.”
“Our home,” she readily agrees, scooting forward and settling herself
back against my chest. “But you can’t protect me from this. I became as much
a part of it as you are the moment you stepped through the Veil.”
She’s right. I know she’s right, but getting my head and my heart to agree
on this is a near-impossible task. I’m shaking my head in denial when she
continues.
“Let me help. I know I might not bring a whole lot to the table magickwise, but—”
“No,” I cut her off, pulling her tighter against me. “Whatever you’ve
about to say, no. You are more than enough, Allie. That’s never been a
question.”
She falls silent at that, the only sound in the room the soft crackle of the
fire and both our uneven breathing.
Why can’t she see?
This has nothing to do with her or her power. Allie is stronger than
anyone has ever given her credit for, stronger than I’ve probably given her
credit for.
And fine, maybe it’s nothing more than my own fear wanting to keep her
as far away as possible from whatever’s happening with the bargain and the
chaos magick it’s unleashing on this realm.
It’s only that… Allie has become vital to me. She’s become vital in a
way I can’t fully comprehend, in a way that makes me terrified to put her at
risk even for a moment. It’s unfair, I realize, to expect her to be the one to
bear the brunt of that unreasonable fear, even if every single one of my
instincts scream at me to keep her close, protect her, die for her if need be.
I don’t want to frighten her or smother her, but I don’t know how to
ignore those instincts, how to make her understand.
She’s my mate, but I’m not hers. Not yet. I can’t expect her to feel the
same sort of sharp, soul-crushing fear that I do over the idea of losing her or
seeing her harmed.
Not to mention my guilt over the fact that she never asked for this. She
never asked to be married to me, probably never wanted to leave her life or
her friends to come to this strange, unstable realm. She’s only here because
of me, in danger because of me.
“If you really believe that,” Allie says finally, shaking me out of my own
thoughts, “then act like it. Let me in. Let me help.”
I dip my head, lowering it to rest against her collarbone. Her hand is
there immediately, stroking against the curve of my horn, tangling into my
hair, soothing me in a way nothing else can.
“I will… try,” I allow.
“Good,” she says, still stroking me, still holding me close.
We stay that way for a few minutes, breathing in each other and the dusty
peace of the bedroom. When Allie notices the fire is burning low, she
reaches up with one hand and summons a sphere of witchlight to stoke it back
up. Clever witch. I smile against her skin.
“I have a question about how demons used to operate in the human
realm,” she says, seemingly out of nowhere. “Back when you used to find
humans at crossroads.”
My chest tightens, immediately thinking of Crowley and all the rest
who’d like to see us go back to those ways. “What would you like to know?”
“If that used to be the way demons reaped magick for this realm, does
that mean they used to pass through the Veil more frequently? That it doesn’t
have to be a Tithe night for you to go through it?”
I nod, not sure why she’s asking. “Yes, it’s possible for a demon to
cross through the Veil at will.”
“What about a witch?”
Pulling away, I look into her eyes with unease slithering through me.
“Why do you ask?”
She takes a deep breath before she continues. “Because… I think I need
to go back to the human realm.”
Chapter 28
Allie
Any progress I’ve made getting Eren to relax disappears in an instant.
“No,” he says. “Absolutely not.”
His head snaps up, and he moves quickly from where he’s sprawled
across the bed into a sitting position, bringing me with him. I’m cradled
against him, held tight enough that I can hear the thundering beat of his heart
against my ear.
Well. So much for calming down my demon.
“If you’d just—”
“No,” he says again. “Anything else, Allie.”
“Eren…”
He crushes me closer. “Do you mean to leave me?”
Oh, Goddess.
“No!” I say hurriedly. “It’s just… I need help. I don’t have any idea
what we’re up against here, but maybe if I speak to my mother, they’ll have
learned something since Emilia came back, something that could help us.”
Eren doesn’t answer right away. He doesn’t argue right away either, so
I suppose that’s its own kind of win.
It’s not like I don’t understand the source of his fear. He believes I’m his
mate, he’s watched his realm slowly deteriorate over the last year, he can
feel the same instability in the magick that I can, and he just wants to protect
me from it. Annoyed as I am at how overbearing he’s being right now, I can
at least accept the reasons behind it.
He’s also been alone, in all the ways that matter, for a very long time.
More than anything else, I can understand what that’s like. I can
understand the need to keep something precious close, to fear losing it, to
want to cling to it with everything you have. Still, it doesn’t give him a pass
for keeping me sidelined and preventing me from doing everything I can to
solve all of this with him.
A study in contrasts, my demon. Such a force in so many ways. So
confident when he needs to be, so dominant and assured.
But also an anxious puddle of mush when faced with the thought of
something happening to me. It would almost be endearing if it wasn’t so
damned frustrating.
Taking a deep breath, I dial back my irritation for the sake of getting
somewhere with him.
“If I went back through the Veil,” I ask, choosing my words carefully,
“do you think it would break the bargain?”
He slowly shakes his head.
“Do you think I’d be stuck back in the human realm?”
“No.” He sounds very certain of that.
“What makes you think—”
“Other Tithe brides have gone back. Always briefly, but they’ve gone
back.”
“They have?” I’m floored. Just one more thing I didn’t know, one more
way I was so completely unprepared to come here. Needing a little space to
gather my thoughts, I shift away from him and sit at the edge of the bed.
“Yes,” he answers, sounding acutely miserable about that fact.
My mind’s going about a hundred miles an hour, sifting through the new
possibilities. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to figure out just which
thoughts I need to pay attention to.
“How long do they stay?”
“A few hours, a day at most. There are written records of it. No one has
ever been certain how a Tithe bride leaving the demon realm would affect
the magick, so none ever stayed long enough to risk it.”
My mind is still tumbling over itself with possibilities, inwardly cursing
the fact that I’m so damn far behind with knowing about any of this. Just
another reason I need to go back through the Veil and speak with my mother.
“Why wouldn’t you want me to go? If it’s just for a few hours, what’s
the harm?”
Eren doesn’t answer right away. When I meet his eyes again, his face is
still contorted in worry and he glances away like he doesn’t want me to read
whatever it is he’s thinking in his expression.
“Eren. Talk to me.”
I don’t know how to reassure him, what else I can say.
“If you go to the human realm, what’s stopping you from just staying
there?”
Taking his face in my hands, I make him look at me. “I want to do this so
I can stay with you.”
It’s the truth, I realize, plain and wonderful and terrifying all at once.
“You do?”
“Of course I do,” I whisper. “No matter what else happens, I have to
believe the Goddess brought us together for a reason. And besides, we’re
married, you’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”
“I’m not going to get rid of you ever.” His embrace is fierce when he
pulls me back against him, breath still coming fast and shallow, tone booking
absolutely no argument. Not that I intend to give him any.
“Good,” I say.
Melting into the strong circle of his arms, I inhale him deeply. Woods
and smoke and a hint of spice. It calms me more than any of my own deep
breathing ever could.
“We still have time to search for the answer here,” he says, stroking my
hair. “We don’t have to jump to any rash action.”
I shake my head. “How much time do we have, really, before people
start getting hurt? Or dying? Eren, disasters like this are going to keep
happening until we can find out why the bargain is failing.”
“There’s no reason to believe—”
“There’s every reason to believe. I can… I can feel it. Or taste it? I’m
not sure. Anyway, it was the same thing I felt when I first got here on the night
of the Tithe. Only now it’s… different somehow. Stronger.”
I shudder a little, remembering the bitter taste of the magick when we
arrived here, the way it washed over me just as the mountain shook.
“You’re certain?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Eren falls silent for a few moments, thinking. “Where would you go
when you return to your realm?”
“To the coven hall, to speak with my mother. And also to see my friend
Joan.”
Eren looks down at me questioningly.
“Partly because I want to see her,” I say, a little sheepishly. “But also
because she owns a teashop that’s popular with witches, and she always
seems to have a pulse on what’s happening in the community outside the
coven.”
He nods. “If you believe it will help, we can arrange for you to travel
back through the Veil. When do you want to go?”
“Sooner rather than later,” I tell him, laying my head back against his
chest.
His tail curls around my midsection, keeping me pinned in place.
Strangely, I don’t mind the feeling of restraint, don’t mind being held close to
him when I can tell it makes him feel better.
“How about tomorrow?”
“Alright,” I say, letting out a tense breath. “Alright. I can go back
through the Veil tomorrow and—”
“We can go back through the Veil tomorrow,” he gently corrects me.
“You’re mad if you think I’d let you go back alone.”
“Aren’t you needed here?”
His lips press to the top of my head. “I’m always needed here, but this
is more important.”
I want to argue the point, but I hold back. He’s made a concession, an
enormous one, and I can only guess how much it must cost him. It’s enough
for tonight. Enough of a victory and enough of a compromise.
“We should get some sleep,” I say, a little reluctantly.
“We should,” Eren agrees.
Surprised a bit at his easy agreement, I tip my head back to look up at
him and find him gazing at me with a mix of tenderness and fear in his eyes.
My heart aches in response, and I reach back to run my hand along his jaw.
“It’ll be alright,” I tell him, hopefully with more conviction than I’m
actually feeling. “I can do this.”
He lets out a long breath. “I know you can, Allie. I’m just not sure I can
say the same thing for myself.”
Chapter 29
Allie
The Veil looms ahead of us, looking just like it did on the night Eren
showed up in the human realm. Well, just like it did before it went all demonred and scary.
Pearly white mist swirls within, bounded on either side by a huge,
ancient stone archway carved with unfamiliar runes and symbols. In daylight,
it’s even more intimidating than it was in the darkness of Tithe night.
I slept like garbage last night, even with my demon curled up around me,
but try to clear the grogginess away as we step up to the Veil.
Eren squeezes my hand. “Are you still sure you’d like to do this?”
I nod. “I am.”
Though my entire body is lit up with nerves, it’s the truth. I want to do
this. I have to do this. If there’s a chance that I can find some kind of help
back in the human realm, there’s no other choice.
My magick is still tenuous at best. There are stacks of books in Vayla’s
library I could pore over for years and get nowhere. I need help. I’m not too
proud to admit it, and I can only hope that all of this won’t be for nothing.
The alternative is quickly becoming intolerable.
Failing the demon realm, letting the bargain lapse, putting both our
realms at risk.
Losing Eren.
Eren, who believes in me and my magick. Eren, who holds me and
protects me like I’m something precious. Eren, who worships my body and
fucks me into delirious oblivion. Eren, who the Goddess chose just for me,
and me for him.
There has to be something to it, doesn’t there?
He’s just been so much, so fast, so unexpected. All of this is, really. It’s
hard to fully wrap my mind around it or know how to handle it. All I do
know?
I can’t lose him.
So, standing in the woods just outside the Veil, I steal myself and turn
back to Eren with as much courage as I can muster.
“I’m ready,” I tell him.
He studies me for a few long moments. Red eyes gleaming in the white
light leaking from the Veil, wings slightly spread, brow furrowed in obvious
concern, a hundred thoughts flit across his expression, but he doesn’t voice a
single one.
Instead, he leans down and kisses me. Soft, tender, searching, like he
could share all his worries with me from that one touch, draw some
reassurance directly from my lips.
“It’s killing me Allie,” he says in a ragged whisper, pulling his mouth a
few inches away from mine. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I will be,” I say, kissing him again. “I promise.”
When we pull away, he tells me to lay a hand on the stone arch that
frames the Veil. I do, and it immediately pulses a deep, emerald green.
Eyes wide, I watch the swirl. “It was red, on the other side. When you
came through.”
“The color corresponds to the realm,” he explains. “The human realm is
green, the demon realm red.”
“I wonder why that is,” I murmur, still watching the mist shift and swirl
from emerald to evergreen to a hundred shades in between. It’s hypnotizing.
Eren shrugs beside. “A mystery of the Goddess for which I have no
answer.”
Tearing my eyes away from the mist, I squeeze his hand and look up at
him. “Ready?”
“Ready,” he says, resolved.
He pulls me into his arms, a bridal carry like the one he used to bring
me here on the night of the Tithe. I settle comfortably into the iron-steady
embrace and nuzzle my face into the warm space between his neck and
shoulder.
The faintest hint of a purr rumbles in answer.
A moment later, we’re in the Veil's ether. It’s as topsy-turvy as it was
last time. What’s up or down, what’s solid earth or dizzying nothingness,
there’s no way to tell. It only last a few seconds, but each one of those
seconds feels like its own eternity before we step through the other side and
back into the human realm.
I’m clinging to Eren when we exit, eyes squeezed tightly shut, but I can
still mark the exact moment we step out.
The magick here is different.
Not just because none of the bitter, cloying power of the failed bargain
lingers in the air, but because it only takes a moment to realize I no longer
have access to the magick that’s come so easily for me over the past couple
of days. No tingling along my skin, no restless power fighting to be set free.
If I raised my palms to summon a sphere of witchlight, I already know I’d
come up empty.
The realization hits me like a punch to the gut.
I don’t know why I thought it would be different. I don’t know why I
thought I would be different now that I’m here, but knowing that I’m still as
powerless as ever in this realm sets me immediately off balance.
Eren puts me down, and my boots sink into the soft grass. The
surrounding clearing is empty, the dais removed, no sign of the coven’s
presence here other than the slight magick hum of the wards they must have
all around this place to keep mundane folk away.
“Are you alright?” he asks me, keeping a hand at my waist and looking
me up and down.
“Yes. It’s just… different here. I don’t think I can access my magick like
I can in your realm.”
He looks troubled at that. “Do you think you’ll need to access it? If
you’re going to be walking around unprotected and—”
I cut him off with a soft squeeze to his bicep. “I’ll be alright. I lasted
twenty-six years in this realm without it; I think I’ll be okay for another few
hours.”
Eren nods, but still seems unsettled. He rolls his shoulders and flares
his wings, breathes deep and closes his eyes like he’s testing the air, the
magick.
“It’s going to feel different, opening and moving through portals in this
realm.”
“Why?”
Eren thinks for a moment. “Back in the demon realm the portal magick
comes easier. Probably something about our natures and being intrinsically
linked to the magick of that realm.”
“What will it be like?” I ask, glancing back behind us to the gently
pulsing light of the veil.
“Nothing that bad,” he assures me. “But not as seamless as portaling you
back in the demon realm.”
“Tell me how it works.”
He spends the next couple of minutes explaining ley lines and centers of
power.
Back in the days before the first witch’s bargain, demons would travel
along ley lines to crossroads, where people and power flow over and around
each other. They were most powerful near settlements, along popular
thoroughfares, and in places like these woods, where the Veil is near. Over
time, those spots became known to humans. Legends and cautionary tales
sprang up around them, but there were always a few souls brave or desperate
enough to try their luck with a bargain.
“The only other variety of demon magick beyond portaling,” Eren
explains, “is in our abilities to make bargains. For a fair exchange, we can
conjure wealth or good fortune or even love of a sort, and a soul can buy a
great number of things when it’s bargained.”
“And what happened to the souls? After the bargain expired?”
“They were reaped,” he says, with a shudder. “Instead of going
wherever the Goddess intends for them to go after death, the nature of the
bargains transferred their soul magick through the Veil to the demon realm, to
feed it and keep it stable.”
Terrible, costly magick. Even mundane folk have a small measure of
magick inside of them. Soul magick, it’s called, the spark of life we all
possess, the thing that makes us who we are. And to trade it for what?
Temporary, mortal glory? I close my eyes and try not to imagine the horror of
it.
“The demons who made the bargains were affected as well,” Eren
continues. “There’s a price to pay for reaping a soul, one I would not wish on
anyone. Magick like that is… caustic. It wears a soul thin, takes away some
sense of decency and light that can’t ever be replaced.”
I hear the words he doesn’t say.
If we fail, demons may have to return to that. They may have to reap
human souls at the price of their own, for their very survival, despite the
cost.
Lingering over it isn’t going to solve anything, so with as much
determination as I can draw up, I look out at the surrounding forest.
“Can you take us to Beech Bay?” I ask.
Once I’ve told Eren a bit more about where the town lies, the roads
coming in and out of it, the best place we might portal in without drawing any
notice, he closes his eyes again to trace the invisible magickal lines.
“I think I’ve got it,” he says a minute later.
He picks me up, and the world starts to tilt and shift. It’s like some
middle ground between the ether of the Veil and the easy, seamless portals in
his realm. The magick of the ley lines seems to fight us a little as we step into
it, prickles slightly along my skin, and a wave of relief washes over me when
we step out into another wooded clearing, one I recognize well.
We’re in a small nature preserve just a half-mile outside Beech Bay’s
city center. I’ve always loved this place, and came to walk here whenever I
could. It’s close enough to the town for me to walk to Joan’s shop, and
wooded enough for Eren to stay hidden.
Only, it seems like he hasn’t gotten the message.
“I’m coming with you,” he says immediately when I tell him I’ll be back
soon.
“Um,” I say, looking him up and down. “You better wait here. Unless
you’re interested in causing a mass panic?”
He looks a little affronted. “Surely the sight of a single demon would be
no great cause for panic. Your entire coven saw me on the night of the Tithe.”
I lean up and kiss his cheek. “We’re not in witch territory anymore. Joan
and I lived very firmly in the mundane world. Normal humans—no magick,
no demons.”
“Sounds boring,” he scoffs.
“It was,” I assure him. “And wonderful.”
Still not quite satisfied with being left behind, I can practically see the
wheels turning in his mind. “Do you know how to cast a glamour?”
I snort. “Eren. I just learned how to summon a simple sphere of
witchlight a couple of days ago, and I’m not even sure I could accomplish
that with how little magick I can access here. There’s no way I could make
and hold an entire glamour over you.”
Just as he’s about to offer some other protest, I lean in and kiss him.
He’s stiff at first, surprised, but melts into me after a few seconds.
“I’ll be fine,” I murmur against his lips. “This is Beech Bay, the
sleepiest, safest little town you could imagine. And I know it like the back of
my hand. I’ll go in, speak to Joan, and be back before you know it.”
I need him to trust me. Despite his fears, despite whatever anxious need
makes him desperate to keep me close, I need him to trust me. This is never
going to work if he can’t.
“Alright,” he says finally, pulling away. “I’ll stay here and stay hidden.
But don’t take too long.”
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I press one last kiss on his cheek. “I
won’t. Promise.”
Beech Bay is just the same as I left it.
There’s no reason it would have changed in the three days I’ve been
gone, but it still seems impossible that my entire life has been turned on its
head and everything here is just the same. The same quiet Main Street, the
same shops and parks.
When I arrived here fresh out of college to take the assistant librarian
job at the local middle school, I’d fallen in love immediately. In Beech Bay,
I’d just been Allie. Not Allison Hawthorn, Esme Hawthorn’s daughter. Not
Allison Hawthorn, utter disappointment of a witch.
Joan had joined me a few months later to set up her shop, and the two of
us both built lives almost completely removed from the coven. While that
separation had hurt a little at first, and although we both paid service dues to
the coven to keep our membership, my life here had quickly become as
comfortable as a worn hoodie. This was my place, my path, something that
belonged to me.
Seeing it now with fresh eyes, it makes a little lump set into the base of
my throat. That lump grows even larger when I reach the front door of Joan’s
tea shop.
She’s put her sweat and tears into this place, and I can’t even begin to
tally up the time I’ve spent helping her make it into what it is today. Celestial
Blends is an eclectic little space just off Main Street, with plants hanging in
the windows and sitting on every available surface, comfortable thrifted
chairs and sofas, mismatched tables, and an ambiance that feels magickal
even if you aren’t a witch.
It’s Monday, so I know my best friend will be here as I reach for the
door handle and pull it open, the familiar scent of the shop washing over me
immediately. The bells above the shop door jingle as it swings shut, but
they’re drowned out almost immediately by a cry from behind the counter.
“Allie!” Joan shrieks, vaulting herself straight over and rushing to me.
“Oh my god! What are you doing here?”
Her running hug hits me with enough force to draw a little oof from me.
Joan smells like tea spices and baking and the lavender soap she’s used
since we used to be roommates. Looking over her shoulder at the familiarity
of the shop, tears sting behind my eyes.
“Hey Jo,” I say around the lump in my throat. “Miss me?”
“Miss you? I’ve been worried sick since Friday.” She hugs me for a
moment longer before pulling away, looking over every inch of me. “Is
something wrong? Were you sent back like Emilia?”
“Sheesh, Jo. Ye of such little faith.”
“Well, what am I supposed to think? The last I saw of you, you were
about to be carted through the Veil by a fucking demon king. What are you
doing here?”
Jo’s kept her voice low, but I look around the shop to see if anyone’s
watching us. There’s only a handful of patrons in the space, and they seem to
be minding their own business.
“Can we talk in private?” I ask her. “There’s so much I have to tell
you.”
“Of course.”
Behind the counter, Jo’s assistant manager, a young witch named Marli,
looks astonished to see me. Before she can start asking questions, Jo gives
her a little wave, seeming to say ‘later’ as she takes my hand and pulls me
behind the counter and through the back room to her office.
After shutting the door behind us, Jo grabs me by the shoulders, turns me
side to side, and looks me up and down.
“Well,” she says. “You’re still in one piece.”
Continuing her inspection, her eyes land on my neck. On the bite mark
there.
“What the—”
My hand flies up to cover it. “Whatever you’re thinking, I promise you
it’s not—”
“What the hell? If this is some kind of freaky vampire shit he’s—”
“Oh my god,” I interrupt, clapping a hand over her mouth to make her
stop talking. “Stop. It’s… I, uh… enjoyed it.”
Her eyes go cartoon-wide, and I remove my hand from her mouth.
“Enjoyed it? What do you mean?”
I flush red all the way to the roots of my hair. “Please don’t make me
give you all the gory details of my sex life with my husband.”
The remark seems to put her at least a little bit off the scent trail she’s
following, and she shakes her head in disbelief as she goes to sit down
behind the desk.
“Husband,” she breathes. “Goddess, Allie. You’re married.”
“I am. Very married.”
“So you and this demon king…”
“That is the nature of the bargain, after all.”
“Is it?” she asks, arching a brow. “I guess I’m not surprised but… sex
magick? Wild. How is it? I mean, is his equipment… like… human?”
I groan and take my own seat across the desk from her. “Again. Enough
about my sex life. I’m here to see if you’ve heard anything about the bargain?
Anything people may have been saying about Emilia, the Veil, any of it,
really.”
Her brow creases. “No. Nothing. Though, that’s not really surprising, is
it? We never got much coven news up here.”
My heart sinks a little with disappointment. “What about from someone
outside the coven? A hedge witch or visitor from another coven?”
She shakes her head again. “Nothing. What kind of news would you be
looking for?”
“That’s just it,” I admit to her. “I have no idea.”
I spend the next few minutes filling Joan in on everything that’s
happened since Tithe night—excluding the steamier bits—ending with the
earthquake and my coming here to get some help.
“I hate to say this,” Joan says when I’m finished. “But I think you’re
going to have to talk to your mom.”
“I know,” I tell her, rubbing a hand over my temple to relieve some of
the tension that’s building there. “I don’t know why I was hoping to avoid it.”
Joan’s eyes darken. “You were hoping to avoid it because what she did
to you was bullshit.”
“Jo…” I start, tentatively, fully recognizing she’s about to go on a tear.
“No, Allie,” she says, raising a hand. “Don’t excuse this. She left you
completely out in the cold here. You’re a High Priestess’s daughter, for fuck’s
sake. How she and the rest of the coven council didn’t think you had just as
much chance as any of the others to be chosen is beyond me.”
“Power might have had something to do with it,” I remind her, dryly.
“It’s not like I was brimming over with it. There was no reason for my mom
to think—”
“Bullshit. You’re her daughter. Even if she wasn’t going to let you into
all those fancy-ass magick lessons with the other coven princesses, she could
have at least sat you down and given you some kind of warning. Just in case.”
She’s right. I know she’s right. Still, some small, lost part of me wants
to defend my mother’s actions. It’s a reaction I know well, the unconscious
urge to explain away everything wrong with our relationship because of me.
My lack of magick, the distance I’ve willingly put between us.
“When would she have had the chance?” I ask Joan, not strong enough to
ignore that urge. “I hadn’t been home in months before the Tithe.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe before Emilia was chosen a year ago? Or in
any of the twenty-five years before that?”
Well. That shuts me up pretty quickly.
Whatever Joan sees on my face, it softens some of her anger. “Sorry. I’m
sorry, Allie. I’ve just been so angry and so worried these past few days. I’m
taking it out on you, and that’s not fair. I know how complicated things are
with Esme.”
“Thanks,” I tell her, meaning it. “I’m going there after this, anyway. So I
guess we’ll have to hash a few things out.”
“Do you think she’ll be able to help?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe.”
Joan thinks for a few seconds. “Maybe they’ve found something out
from Emilia.”
I nod, but a sudden, anxious tightening in my throat prevents me from
speaking. Some part of my mind has tried to avoid thinking about Emilia any
more than I have to. Maybe it’s cowardly of me, but knowing what she went
through—chosen as a Tithe bride and sent to the demon realm with her
husband, only to be spat back out, weakened and separated from him—feels
like more than I can comprehend. Or more than I want to comprehend, more
accurately.
Thinking about that same fate for myself makes me feel sick.
In the end, I can only offer Joan a weak smile. It’s one she seems to see
right through as she gets up from her side of the desk and comes around to
wrap me up in a hug. It’s a little awkward, given that I’m still sitting and
crushed up against her boobs when she pulls me to her, but comforting all the
same.
“I should probably get going,” I tell her when she releases me, standing
up from my chair. “Eren’s going to take me back to the coven hall. Did you
know they can portal even here in our realm? It’s pretty trippy.”
“He’s here?” she asks, ignoring my demon fun fact. Her eyes dart to the
closed office door like I might have actually brought my husband strolling
into the middle of Beech Bay.
“Yes, Jo. The king of the demon realm came right into town with me.”
She gives me a flat look, unimpressed.
“I left him in the woods at the nature preserve,” I explain.
“Oh, good, so he can terrorize a few hikers, start an urban legend or
two. Nice.”
Snorting at that, I turn to head back out into the shop. I’ve only made it a
couple of steps, though, when something stops me.
“You said you had something for me. On Tithe night. You mentioned you
had a book you meant to give me. A grimoire?”
The memory is a prodding nettle, a thorn stuck into some stubborn
corner of my brain. Intuition, telling me this is important. I shake my head
slightly to clear the strange sensation.
Joan’s eyes light in memory. “Yes, I did.”
She turns to the shelves behind her desk to find it, and that nagging sense
of purpose crests. It’s strange. Not quite like my own magick, but something
almost similar to the rush of power between Veils, swirling and off-kilter and
disorienting.
When Joan turns back around, she’s holding an enormous book, and just
by looking at it, I know it’s ancient. The grimoire is handsomely bound in
rich red leather, its cover carved and gilded with arcane symbols. Beyond
that, it’s practically singing with the very same type of magick I’ve always
known. Books and languages and forgotten stories. Only this time, it’s more
powerful than I’ve ever felt before. Even from where I stand on the other
side of the small office, I can feel it reach for me.
“Here,” she says, extending her arm to hand the book over.
As soon as I touch it, all the air leaves my lungs. My vision fails, and
suddenly I’m no longer standing across from my best friend.
I have no idea where I am.
Chapter 30
Allie
The world around me is dark, with two pale moons hanging in the sky.
That, at least, helps orient me. The demon realm. As soon as my head
stops spinning, I see that I’m standing near the Veil. The color within isn’t
white or red or green. No, it’s shining a lovely, light pink.
The color of rose petals.
Transfixed, I take a few steps toward it. In some muffled, rational
corner at the back of my mind, alarm bells are ringing. I ignore them. The
pale pink light and the gentle tug of magick seeping from the Veil are
enough to make me forget everything else entirely.
When I get close enough, a faint voice calls to me from inside that
ether.
“A sacred vow and a lover’s kiss,” the strange voice whispers in my
mind. “An iron-clad deal with a demon prince. An end to strife and pain.
An era of peace will reign.”
Over and over, the words echo through me. If I can just step into the
Veil, maybe I can answer. One step closer, then another. I’m almost there,
so close I can feel the soft kiss of ether reaching out to greet me.
Suddenly, I’m jerked out of whatever spell the grimoire was weaving
around me and tossed back into the mundane world. Staggering, Joan keeps
me upright with an arm around my waist. My ears are muffled, ringing with
muted sound, and I take a few seconds to realize she’s speaking to me.
“Allie!” She sounds stricken. “Allie, what’s happening?”
The book is still in my hands, and I don’t realize I’m clutching it so
tightly until my fingers start to ache. I toss it onto the desk and take a few
quick, shaky steps away from it until my back is pressed up against the office
door.
Joan lets me go, watching me with fear-widened eyes.
“The book,” I say, voice urgent. “Who gave you the book?”
A few beats of silence. We both stare down at the grimoire. I halfexpect it to be glowing with the same magick seeping from the Veil in my
vision, but it’s not. It’s sitting there, deceivingly ordinary.
Joan shakes her head. “I don’t… I can’t…”
“When you mentioned it to me at the Tithe, you said one of your regulars
gave it to you.”
Her eyes widen even more. “I don’t remember saying that.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused. “Do you remember who gave it
to you?”
“No,” she says, closing her eyes and shaking her head slowly. “I feel
like I should, but there’s just… nothing. When I try to remember, there’s
nothing.”
We both fall silent again.
Whatever the book is, it’s no ordinary magick. Suspicious, I pick up a
dish towel from a stack at the side of the room. Keeping it wound around my
hand, I approach the desk and the book.
“Allie,” Joan says, putting a hand on my wrist to stop me. “I don’t think
you should—”
“It’s important,” I say, interrupting her with a certainty that comes out of
nowhere.
Cursed, or blessed, or whatever this grimoire is, I at least know that to
be true. It means something, that it’s here, that I’m here. That certainty only
solidifies when I open the cover to see the first page written in the same
arcane language I encountered in the demon realm.
“I have to take this with me,” I tell her, flipping the cover shut. “Do you
have something I can use to wrap it up?”
She looks like she wants to refuse, but after a moment she nods. “Yeah, I
can find something.”
While she goes back into the kitchen, I sink into my chair and stare at the
grimoire, close my eyes and replay the scene it showed me.
“A sacred vow and a lover’s kiss. An iron-clad deal with a demon
prince. An end to strife and pain. An era of peace will reign.”
Goddess, I hate riddles.
I hate strange, manipulative magick even more, and this book is
brimming with it. The vision, and whatever spell it’s cast on Joan to make
her forget where it came from, hardly bodes well. Some part of me is
repulsed by it, wants nothing more than to leave it here and get far, far away
from it. Whatever it just showed me, whoever put it in my path, I don’t like it
at all.
Joan returns with a silk scarf to wrap the book and a tan canvas
messenger bag for me to carry it in. Her eyes are still wary, face drawn with
concern, but she helps me pack it away and then pulls me in for another deep,
comforting hug.
“Are you sure you want to go back?” she asks.
I know she means well, and I squeeze her in return. “I don’t think I
really have a choice.”
“You do,” she says fiercely, pulling away. “You’re here, aren’t you? Is
the demon going to force you back through the Veil with him?”
I shake my head. “No. But he doesn’t have to.”
Joan’s eyes dart back and forth across my face. “I can’t pretend like I
understand it… you’ve known this dude for what? Three days? And you have
a chance to get out of this whole mess, stay here, and you don’t want to take
it? Why?”
There are a number of things I could say. A command from the Goddess,
sacrilege to break. A sense of duty and responsibility to see this through. An
insane, destructive urge to finally prove that I’m not a completely useless
witch. Any of those reasons are true enough in their own right, but I choose
another reason entirely.
“Eren and I are in this together. I’m not going to leave him all alone to
deal with it, not if there’s even a chance I can help.”
I never want to leave my demon alone. Not if I can help it.
Joan isn’t quite happy with that answer. “You don’t have to make
yourself a martyr, Allie.”
“It’s not just that. I… care for Eren. I know it’s crazy, Jo. I know it’s
only been a couple of days. But I can’t… I can’t leave him. Not now.”
Not ever.
“Alright,” Joan says, though it’s clear enough on her face that she
remains unconvinced. “Alright. Yeah. I guess I can accept that. Will you try to
come back someday, though? Just to visit and let me know you’re alright? I
seriously can’t do another forever goodbye.”
“I’ll try,” I tell her. It’s the only promise I can make.
With a last hug and a few tears shed between us, I make my way out of
the shop, nodding at Marli and a couple of other witches who have entered
the shop and sat down while Joan and I were talking. Like Marli, they stare
at me wide-eyed. One even stands, opening her mouth like she means to say
something to me, but I make a beeline out of the shop, avoiding them.
Back on Main Street, I head back to the park where my demon is
waiting.
By the time I make it to the clearing in the woods on shaky legs and with
a head that’s still swimming with magick and fear and uncertainty, Eren is
pacing restlessly between the trees. He’s in front of me a heartbeat later.
“What happened?”
He looks furious and worried and so damn protective that for a moment
I feel like I might cry. I stumble through an explanation, and show him the
cloth-wrapped grimoire from Joan’s bag, careful not to touch it again. When
I’m finished, he pulls me into a bone-crunching embrace. His heart beats
erratically against my cheek and tension rolls off him in waves.
“I don’t like this, Allie,” he says in a strained voice. “I don’t like any of
this.”
I can hardly disagree with him.
“I know,” I say, snuggling closer. “Can you take me to the coven hall? I
need to speak with my mother.”
He doesn’t answer, but a moment later we’re pulled into one of the ley
lines. When we exit, we’re back in the forest near the Veil. The coven hall is
only a short distance away.
I’m about to tell Eren I plan to go alone to speak with my mother, but he
beats me to it.
“Asking to come with would be pointless, wouldn’t it?” he says, trying
for a smile as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I won’t be long.”
“You’re taking that?” He nods toward the messenger bag and the
grimoire.
“She might know more about it than I do,” I say with a shrug. “It’s worth
asking, anyway.”
“Be—”
“Careful?” I finish for him, teasing a little. “You’ve said that before.”
Eren swoops down for a quick kiss. “And I’ll keep saying it any time
you’re parted from me, witch.”
Chapter 31
Allie
Approaching the coven hall feels nothing like walking down Main Street
in Beech Bay. It’s familiar, sure, but no part of me relaxes into that
familiarity.
The hall itself is a huge, stately building tucked away on a large estate
set far back into the woods. The cottage I grew up in is just down the road,
and other houses are dotted throughout the area. This place can’t quite be
called a town, but it’s a little compound all its own. A quiet, dispersed
village populated with witches and their families.
And at its heart, the coven hall.
Three stories high and built in the style of a Tudor-era country estate,
it’s warded by layers upon layers of protection spells. Each one sizzles
gently across my skin as I approach, and would be enough to make any
mundane person turn away in forced confusion.
The gravel of the main drive crunches under my feet. On either side,
wild tangles of gardens are just coming into their spring glory. A few witches
work here and there, and the further I make it up the drive, the more heads
swivel my way.
“Allison?”
I turn at the sound of my name, only to find Josephine Delacroix walking
tentatively up behind me. One of the witches who, by all rights, should have
been chosen in the Tithe over me.
“Hi, Josephine,” I say. “I’m here to speak with my mother.”
It’s awkward as hell to have her looking me up and down, no doubt
searching for some sign I’ve come back drained and damaged, like Emilia.
Her face is unreadable as she nods toward the manor.
“She’s inside.”
Not in the mood to answer questions or waste time on small talk, I thank
her and head inside. Thankfully, no one else stops me on my way to my
mother’s office.
The inside of the coven hall is as stately and serious as ever. Walls
lined with artwork and cabinets filled with strange curios, wings that branch
off to classrooms and dormitories and workrooms far below in the several
layers of cellars beneath the manor. The whole place hums with generations
of the coven’s magick.
It was my favorite place in the world, when I was young.
Beyond my brief trips back to tend to the library, I’ve barely spent any
time here since graduating high school and going on to college. Partly
because I know my welcome wore out the day I was passed by for advanced
training, and partly because it’s just too damned painful.
Heading up two staircases and down a familiar hallway, I arrive at my
mother’s office. The door is cracked open, and when I glance inside, I find
her there alone. She has her back to the door, watering can in hand as she
tends to a couple of her finnicky ferns on the windowsill.
“Hi mom.”
Her head whips around, and all the color leeches from her face as she
sees me standing there. “Allie?”
Dropping the watering can in a moment of uncharacteristic haste and
clumsiness, she rushes across the room and pulls me into a hug. I don’t even
get a word in before she’s fussing over me, her words rushed and panicked.
“Darling, are you alright? How are you here? Did your magick—”
“I’m fine,” I assure her, a little disappointed, if not surprised, that she
would immediately assume I’d been forced, rather than chosen to come back.
“I came back with Eren so I could speak with you.”
“You… came back?” she says slowly. “Through the Veil?”
“Yes?” I ask, confused. “Eren said it’s been done before. That Tithe
brides have come back occasionally.”
She nods slowly, but there’s a wariness in her eyes. “They have. But not
without… difficulty.”
“Um, yeah, I guess,” I say, still a little confused as I remember the
sensation of moving through the Veil. It’s strange, definitely not pleasant, but I
don’t know if I’d call it difficult. “Anyway, I came back for your help.”
She nods again and gestures to the desk and the chairs sitting in front of
it, and I’m happy to have somewhere to sit. Between the lingering effects of
the grimoire vision and the off-kilter feeling I always get when I’m back
here, I don’t entirely trust my legs at the moment.
When we’re seated, I give her the same rundown I did Joan, again to
leaving out any of finer details of my relationship with Eren. When I get to
the part about the grimoire, I pull it carefully from my bag.
My mother takes it from me gingerly. When she unwraps it and opens the
front cover, my breath catches a bit in my throat, half-expecting her to be
pulled into some sort of vision like I was. She doesn’t, though, and when the
book’s laying open on her desk, she scans through a few pages, frowning.
“I don’t recognize this language.”
“Do you think anyone here would?”
Flipping through a few more pages, she considers. “Perhaps. If you
leave it with me, I can summon a witch from London who might have some
insight into it. Someone who studies these kinds of old texts.”
A small pang of annoyance moves through me. I study these kinds of old
texts.
“Is her magick like mine?”
My mother looks up at me. “No, no, she’s more gifted in ward-work, but
she’s taken a great interest in studying arcane magickal texts.”
I slowly shake my head. “I’ll be taking this back to the demon realm
with me.”
That seems to catch her off-guard. She opens her mouth and then closes
it again, seeming to think better of whatever she was about to say.
Fine. If she wants to guard her thoughts, that doesn’t mean I have to.
“I saw something,” I tell her. “In the grimoire. I can’t read the language,
but when I put my hand on it, I had a… vision, I guess. Like what I’ve been
able to draw from books before, only about a hundred times more intense.”
That loosens her tongue. “What kind of vision?”
After I’ve described it to her, she’s silent for a long moment. Standing,
she crosses the room and looks out the windows, lost in thought. When she
doesn’t speak for a minute, then two, I can’t stand the silence. Whatever it is
she’s thinking and not telling me, I have no time for it. Not now. Not with so
much riding on this.
“Is Emilia here?”
My mother levels a flat gaze at me in response. “She is. She’s resting.”
“Can I speak with her? Whatever I saw in the book, and whatever is
happening back in the demon realm, she might have some kind of—”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” I can’t hide my irritation anymore. “She’s been asking to go
back, hasn’t she? I’m sure she’d want to do anything she can to help make
that possible.”
My mother stares at me for a few more long moments, and then gives a
faint nod. “It will be up to her. Wait here, please.”
She leaves the room, and in the silence left behind, I let out a long
breath. I have to get a handle on myself. Getting upset isn’t going to help.
Having the same old arguments about what I’m capable of and all the things
she keeps from me isn’t going to help.
A few minutes later, the door opens again. My mother enters first,
followed by Emilia.
She looks terrible.
There’s not really any way around it. Walking slowly into the room
wrapped in a thick blue robe over the pajamas she’s wearing, her pale blond
hair is hanging limp and dull around her face and there are deep, bruise-dark
smudges beneath her eyes. I didn’t know her very well before she became a
Tithe bride, but she’s nothing like I remember.
When she sees me, her eyes go wide and she stumbles a little. My
mother catches her by the arm and helps her into the chair beside me before
taking her own seat behind the desk.
“Allison,” Emilia whispers. “What are you doing back here? Are you…
did you…”
She looks me up and down, and her brow furrows when she sees I’m
looking as healthy and chipper as ever.
“I’m alright,” I assure her. “My husband brought me back through the
Veil. Just temporarily.”
At the words ‘my husband’, her face falls and I want to kick myself.
“I see,” she says slowly. “You’re here looking for help with the
bargain?”
I nod. “Yes, I am. I’m hoping you could tell me more about what
happened when you were in the demon realm.”
Emilia gathers her thoughts for a few moments before speaking. “Right
after I went in, I felt wonderful. So powerful. More powerful than I’d ever
felt in this realm.”
My stomach drops. “How long did it last?”
“A few months. Everything was great. Sylas was great, and we were so
happy together.” Her eyes go far away, staring out the windows and into the
forest like she could see all the way to the Veil and back through to the
demon realm. “Then I started to… get sick. It was headaches, at first, and
then I couldn’t keep anything down. When my magick started to fail, Sylas
brought me to the court under the mountain to see if anyone there could help
me.”
“And you met Vayla?”
An unlikely, slightly sad smile blooms on Emilia’s lips. “Yes. We both
tried to understand what was going on. Not just with me, but with the magick
in the entire realm. Things were getting bad so fast. Storms, earthquakes,
crop failures. No one could understand the reason for it. I could feel it,
though. How much the magick was fracturing, the way it felt so unsteady.”
I nod silently, well aware of just what that feels like.
My mother, who’s watched the whole interaction silently from the other
side of the desk, interjects. “Since Emilia’s been back, we’ve been testing a
few theories about what might have gone wrong.”
“Have you found out anything that might help?”
She doesn’t answer right away, and it’s all the information I need.
Hopes growing dimmer and dimmer by the second, I turn back to Emilia.
“There’s nothing else you can think of?” I ask gently, not wanting to push
too hard, given how fragile she seems.
Still, when she answers, there’s nothing but calm, sturdy resolve in her
voice. “There’s nothing. I’m sorry. I wanted so badly to fix it, to stay there
with Sylas, and...”
I reach forward and rest my hand on her forearm. Briefly, I wonder if
I’ve crossed a boundary given how little we actually know each other, but
Emilia lays her hand over mine, giving it a squeeze.
“I wish I could help you.”
“I know,” I tell her. “Is there anything I can do to help you? Anything
you’d like me to tell Sylas when I go back?”
I haven’t met Sylas yet, but I’m sure Eren would help me get word to
him.
“If I write a note for Sylas, and one for Vayla, would you take them back
with you?” Emilia asks.
“Of course,” I assure her, mind catching a little on the fact that she and
Vayla apparently must have become good friends while she was in the demon
realm.
Maybe part of the reason Vayla dislikes me so much.
My mother offers her some parchment and a pen, and she spends the
next few minutes writing. While she does, I stand and walk over to the wide
windows at the back of the office.
Looking out over the grounds, a hundred memories flood in all at once.
Summer days spent running through the gardens, the fires of Samhain glowing
brightly in the crisp autumn night, snow-covered Yuletides, and the first
warm day of spring.
Other memories, though, are right on their heels. The loneliness of
feeling like an unwanted stranger in a place that once felt like home. The
disappointment in my mother’s eyes every time I tried and failed to grasp
even elementary magick. Not being able to bring myself to sever ties
completely and coming back each month to tuck myself away in the archives,
pretending I still had a place here.
Was any of this worth it? The book was, certainly, but being here,
putting myself back in this headspace… and for what? To learn nothing that
can help me?
Lost in thought, I startle a little when Emilia rises from her chair and
comes to join me at the windows. Handing me the two letters, her face is
creased in sorrow.
“I’m so sorry, Allison,” she says softly. “I wish I could have prevented
all of this.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell her, taking the letters.
Unexpectedly, Emilia reaches forward and pulls me into a hug. Even
with as thin as she is, there’s a surprising amount of strength in her embrace.
“Lean on your demon,” she tells me. “I think that’s why I was able to
stay as long as I was. They like to say their only magick is in bargains and
portals, but whatever reason the Goddess has for pairing us with them, it
means something.”
“I will,” I tell her.
With that, Emilia leaves. My mother goes with her, keeping an arm at the
small of her back while she helps her from the room. Sitting back down in
front of the desk, I tuck the letters and the grimoire back into the bag Joan
gave me and wait for her to return.
When she finally comes back into the room, my mother crosses to take a
seat behind her desk again.
“What are you thinking?” I ask. “About all of this? What theories do you
have about what’s going wrong with the bargain?”
I don’t know if she’s going to tell me, but with my time in this realm
running out, I don’t feel the need to dance around the subject any longer.
“Magick corrodes over time,” she says slowly, eyes still a little
unfocused as she considers the problem. “Even great magick like the bargain.
It could be that a renewal is needed.”
“Alright,” I say, letting out a breath. “So, how do we do that?”
She shakes her head. “Magick like that… I don’t know if even I could
do it.”
“No,” I agree, stubbornly. “It has to be me. ‘A deal with a demon
prince’, the voice in the book said, I think I’m the only one who could
accomplish that now. I mean, Eren’s a king, but I think the point still stands.”
I hope the point still stands. Really not in the mood to play semantics
with an ancient, cursed book.
A flash of irritation crosses her face. “This is not magick to be taken
lightly.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. Anger and frustration born of years of this—
being sidelined and kept in the dark, being underestimated—bubbles to the
surface all at once.
“I know that,” I snap at her, unable to keep everything I’m feeling from
my voice. “Believe me, I’m well aware I’m in over my head. I went into this
mess completely blind.”
My mother at least has the good grace to look guilty. “Allie, I never
meant to—”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant to do, mom. It still happened. The
Tithe still chose me and the bargain is still hanging by a damn thread. Are
you going to help me fix it?”
“Allie,” she says, haltingly. “It’s not that simple.”
“So spell it out for me.”
“Since Emilia returned, we’ve all been well-aware that there’s
something very wrong with the magick of the bargain, and we’ve all been
working on finding out how to fix it.”
“Great. So let me help. I can go back into the demon realm—”
“The rest of the coven leaders want to seal the pathway through the Veil
that leads to the demon realm.”
The words drop into absolute silence between us for a few long
heartbeats.
“What?”
No. Absolutely not. How can they even… no. I slump back into my
chair, heart pounding in my ears.
“It’s the only solution we’ve been able to find,” she says, voice
cracking a little.
Part of me registers the emotion in her voice and written clearly on her
face. It’s so far removed from the usual masked of calm and composure she
wears that, if I wasn’t having my own internal meltdown, I would be
dumbstruck by it.
Right now, though? I’m in no headspace to deal with anyone’s emotions
but my own.
“You can’t,” I croak.
“Allie,” she says, clearly trying to soothe me. “The magick the first
witch used to make that bargain is beyond what most of us can even imagine.
It’s likely soul magick—realm-altering magick—larger and more complex
than any of us would dare attempt.”
“And sealing the Veil isn’t?”
She shakes her head slowly. “It’s still very complex, but it’s mostly a
matter of warding. The coven will need to maintain it carefully, but it’s
possible.”
My mind whirs over the implications of closing off the connection
between the two realms. “But won’t that cut the demons off completely from
our magick, or from reaping their own?”
“It will also keep every soul in this realm safe from being reaped.”
She’s not wrong. It’s just… horrendous. Unthinkable. To cut off an
entire realm, leaving everyone in it to suffer…
“You can’t,” I whisper. “That’s not… meddling like that can’t be what
the Goddess would want.”
My mother’s mouth sets into a hard line. “I doubt She wants souls
reaped, either.”
Her conviction is clear enough on her face, and we both sit in silence
for a long seconds, neither willing to give another inch.
“What about me?” I ask finally.
“What do you mean?”
“When you seal the Veil, I’ll be stuck behind it.”
Her eyes go wide and her stoic determination breaks. “It doesn’t have to
be that way, Allie.”
“I don’t see how it doesn’t.”
“You’re out, you’re here,” she says, pleading with me now. “Stay here
while we take care of the Veil. You don’t have to go back.”
I’m standing before I’m even aware I’ve moved, anger coursing through
me. “And abandon Eren?”
“Darling,” she pleads, standing as well, but I’m having none of it.
“He’s my husband,” I tell her, shaking.
“You just met him—”
“Stop. You don’t get to say a single word about my relationship with
Eren. Not after you left me completely ignorant about what it might mean to
be chosen at the Tithe. And I was chosen, mom, by the Goddess. Even if
you’re willing to believe you have the right to circumvent Her will, I’m not.
And I’m not leaving him. Even if it means being stuck in that realm when you
seal it off.”
She comes out from behind her desk and takes me by the shoulders.
“Please see reason, Allie. There’s no sense in keeping yourself trapped in an
unstable realm, Tithe or not.”
I hardly recognize the woman in front of me. Desperate, undone,
pleading with me. My mother has never taken this tone with me, or with
anyone else that I can remember. Her eyes are shining with tears and she
gives me a little shake as she speaks, as if she could force me to agree with
her.
“We can’t stop this,” she continues. “Not for you, not for anyone. We’re
going to seal the Veil, and I want you on this side of it when we do.”
What she’s asking is sacrilege. Ignoring one of the few direct commands
the Goddess ever makes of us, asking me to turn my back on the male She’s
chosen for me.
Something slots into place in my mind, some recognition that’s been
hovering at the edge of my consciousness since the moment Eren first stepped
through the Veil.
I won’t leave him. I can’t leave him. Not for my mother’s pleading, or
for the risk of being trapped in a collapsing realm, or for anything else. My
mother continues to study me, and I don’t have to say anything else for her to
understand my answer.
Her face settles again into firm, unyielding lines, all of that pleading
vulnerability disappearing. “The next full moon is in a week and a half.
That’s when we’ll attempt to seal it.”
I nod. There’s no point in arguing with her, no point in asking if she’d let
me go for the benefit of the rest of the coven, the benefit of the rest of this
realm. I already know what her answer would be, and a part of me can’t
even fault her for it.
What’s one witch in exchange for all that? Even if that one witch is her
daughter?
“Fine,” I say, stepping back from her.
Her hands fall to her sides in limp acceptance, or defeat. Standing
across from her, I’m struck by the fact that it may be the last time I ever see
her. Angry as I am, as righteous as I feel, I can’t help the weight of sickening
grief that settles in my stomach at the idea.
Esme Hawthorn has felt more like an abstract in my mind than a mother
these last few years. The High Priestess, the stilted, slightly awkward voice
on the other end of our occasional phone calls, the quiet presence in the back
of my head reminding me I’ll never quite be good enough.
Somewhere, deep down, she’s also still the mother who used to make
me chamomile tea when I was feeling sick and who would conjure a whole
miniature galaxy made of sparkling witchlight to hover above my bed and act
as my night light. She’s the one who raised me all on her own, who tried her
best.
The mother of my childhood melds with the distant Priestess of my
present, and for a moment I can’t make sense of any of it. My heart aches and
tears sting the back of my eyes, but I square my shoulders anyway and take
another step toward the door.
“I should go,” I tell her. “I need to get back to Eren.”
“He’s here?” she asks quietly. “In our realm?”
I nod. “Yes. He’s waiting in the woods for me. We’re headed back
through the Veil as soon as I’m done here.”
“I would like to speak with him.”
“Mom…”
“Please, Allison.”
I want to say no.
Angry, devastated, some part of me feeling like the fuck-up of a witch
I’ve always been, I want to keep her far, far away from this thing that’s mine.
Eren is mine, my life in the demon realm is mine, and the sudden ferocity
with which I want to protect both sinks all the way down to my core.
“Fine,” I tell her finally. “But you need to tell him what you and the
council are planning to do. You owe him that much.”
Chapter 32
Eren
Allie has been gone too long.
A minute away from her is too long, if I’m being honest with myself, but
more than an hour has passed since she went to the coven hall to speak with
her mother and I’m growing more and more anxious by the moment.
She’s safe there, I’m sure she’s safe there, but it’s everything else I’m
worried about. I’m worried that even now her mother or the other witches in
the coven might try to talk her into staying, that they might have nothing at all
to help her and that all of this will have been for nothing.
It makes me crazed to think of her deciding to stay here. If she did, I
don’t know what I’d do. I want to believe I’d accept it, that I’d let her go, but
the claiming instinct buried beneath isn’t altogether certain that I wouldn’t
just snatch her up and take her back through the Veil with me anyway.
She’d hate me for it. Not accepting the fact that we’re mates, how could
she ever understand it?
No, I couldn’t do it to her. If she wants to stay, she’ll stay.
At the same time, a thread of gentle awareness tugs at the back of my
mind. It’s been there, growing more and more insistent, since the very first
moment I saw her. The mating bond, tying our two souls together, pulling me
gently even now in the direction she walked off in, toward the coven hall.
There are other sensations coming through that bond. Pulses of
uncertainty, of anger, of sorrow, brief glimpses of emotion that taste like rain
and roses and make me feel half out of my mind with the need to go to her.
I close my eyes to calm myself down.
It’s a mistake.
The moment they’re shut, all I can see is Allie—pale and shaky and
rattled—approaching me in the woods with that cursed book in tow. I’d
wanted to take her back to my realm then, tuck her away somewhere safe to
let her rest and recover, help her come up with some other plan that doesn’t
include her putting herself at risk like this.
Maybe I should have. It’s not like she could have stopped me if I truly
wanted to. It would have been easy enough to keep her held firmly, follow
the ley line back to the Veil, step through and… no.
As much of a wreck of nerves and fear as I am, I would not take that
choice from her.
It’s the worst part of this entire damned situation, trying to balance the
faith I have in her abilities to handle and navigate everything that’s happening
with the soul-deep need I have to protect her. It’s a physical thing, an ache in
my muscles and a pain that’s seated itself in my bones. Keeping her safe is
not simply an option. It’s a command that rides me with every breath I take.
With nothing to do to assuage it, I pace and pace and count each minute
until she returns. It’s not much longer before I hear the soft tread of footsteps
nearby and my head snaps up.
Allie’s not alone.
Walking in the woods beside her, Esme Hawthorn looks every bit as
composed and powerful as she did on the night of the Tithe.
Allie looks supremely uncomfortable, glancing back and forth between
her mother and me like she’s expecting to have to break up a fight. When they
reach me in the clearing, she steps in between us.
“Eren,” she says cautiously, “my mother wants to speak with you.”
“About what?” I want to reach for Allie, pull her close, convince myself
she’s alright, but I let her take the lead.
Esme clears her throat. “About the state of the bargain and the magick
between our realms.”
“The coven can’t offer any help,” Allie explains.
I look between the two women. “Then what needs to be said?”
“We plan to seal the Veil,” Esme says simply and without any further
preamble. “At least the portion of it that links this realm with the demon
realm.”
The words are devastating, but not wholly unexpected. From the time
the bargain began to fail, I had my suspicions it might come to this if the
witches got spooked. It’s no great leap of logic to guess that they would do
just about anything to protect the souls in their realm.
Still, as much as the terrible implications of that choice and what it
means for my realm start to sink in, I feel it on Allie’s behalf even more
keenly. How must it affect her to know her mother would do this, that she
would doubt Allie’s abilities to fix it and make her choose between realms?
A sudden panic grips the bottom of my soul. Is this why Allie brought
her mother here? To tell me she’s choosing the coven and this realm?
Without a moment of conscious thought, I reach a hand toward my mate.
I need to touch her. I need to feel the steady beat of her pulse and have her
warmth beside me. There’s nothing else that matters.
To my surprise, she comes to me easily, willingly, taking the hand I offer
and pulling it around her waist. Positioning herself beside me and tucking
herself tightly against me, she turns back to her mother.
“The next full moon?” she asks.
Esme nods, though she doesn’t answer right away. Her keen gaze darts
between us, taking in every detail. When her eyes finally land on her daughter
and stay there, I can see echoes of pain and duty both within them.
I wish I knew more about the relationship between mother and daughter.
I wish Allie had trusted me enough to tell me, so that I might support her
better in this moment.
The complexities between them are obvious, even to my uneducated
eye. Love, duty, regret, years and decades of unspoken memories and tension.
They even look so much alike—the same dark hair, the same heart-shaped
faces. Esme’s eyes are hazel to Allie’s green, and her hair is streaked with
silver, but the similarities are striking. Even down to the pulses of their
magick, and the faintest note of lightning in Esme’s iron. A bit of petrichor
she’s given to her daughter.
“I can’t say anything to convince you?” Esme asks, her meaning clear
enough as she glances over both our heads to where the Veil shimmers behind
us.
I can’t stop the low growl that breaks from me at the question, or the
instinct that drives me to pull my mate closer.
“No,” Allie says, utterly certain. “I don’t think you can.”
Esme turns her attention back to me. “I trust you to take care of my
daughter.”
Beside me, Allie scoffs.
My hackles are still up at her inference that she wants Allie to leave me,
to say here in the human realm, but I calm myself enough to answer. “You
asked me that on the night of the Tithe, and my answer has not changed.
Though I believe Allie is more than capable of taking care of herself.”
Esme nods slowly, looking again between me and her daughter. “The
coven will be here, on the next full moon. After that… I can’t help you any
more after that.”
“I know,” Allie says.
The words are firm, final, and she stays right by my side as she says
them. Some animal part of me roars in triumph even as fear and concern for
her coils low in my belly.
Apparently having said everything she needed to, Esme turns to go.
Allie tenses against me. “Mom?”
Esme stops, turns around, and Allie leaves my side to go to her. The two
women embrace, and just like on the night of the Tithe, there seems to be
more between them than either of them can express. When they part, Esme
runs a hand over her daughter’s cheek.
“I love you always, Allison,” Esme says.
Allie doesn’t respond, but closes her eyes for a moment and leans into
the touch. When they part again, and Esme disappears between the trees,
Allie lets out a long breath.
All around us, night is falling softly. The sky is painted with lavenders
and oranges above the dark canopy of trees. It’s warmer tonight than it was
during the Tithe, but the whole scene is so reminiscent that I have to pause for
a moment to study my wife.
I’m struck with the same feeling I had on the night I met her. She’s still
so much a mystery to me, my mate. I wish she wasn’t. Wherever we go from
here, whatever happens, we’ll need to trust each other completely.
“Should we go, then?” she asks, nodding toward the Veil.
When I don’t answer, she takes a few steps toward it. My stomach
drops, and I reach out to catch her wrist in my hand.
“Allie,” I say, hesitating.
I’m not entirely sure what I mean to do, why I try to stop her. My
feelings for her and my hopes for us have not changed.
So what has?
She turns back to me with fires blazing in her eyes. “Don’t start
doubting me. I chose you today, Eren, and I meant it.”
My heart constricts painfully in my chest. I open my mouth to speak, but
Allie’s not finished. She takes a step closer and reaches up to cup my face
between her hands.
“I’m coming with you to the demon realm. I’m going to find out
whatever I can from this grimoire and do everything I can to prevent my
mother and the rest of the coven from having to seal the Veil. And even if we
don’t find the answer, I’m not leaving you.”
“But—”
“No buts,” she says with a sharp shake of her head. “You want me, don’t
you? You want to keep me with you?”
“Yes,” I say on a growl, the feral, animal part of me affronted she would
even ask.
“Good. Then take me home.”
Home. Home to my realm. Home to danger and struggle and trouble that
she never asked for, to threats that I may not be able to protect her from.
I chose you today, Eren, and I meant it.
I have to trust her. I have to trust my witch, my wife, my mate.
Despite those flames in her eyes, there’s also a hint of uncertainty and
fear. She’s putting on a brave face. For me? Because of the time she’s spent
with her mother? I don’t know, but I’m not going to question it now.
Scooping her in my arms and striding into the Veil, I silently vow that
I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she never regrets her choice
today.
Chapter 33
Eren
My witch is exhausted.
As soon as we step back into the demon realm and I set her down so she
can get her bearings, she wavers a little on her feet. I catch both her elbows
and draw her back against my body.
“I’m alright,” she says, making a move to step out of my arms.
I only hold her tighter.
“Eren,” she protests. “I’m serious. I’m alright, just a little off balance
from coming through the Veil.”
I’m not convinced. “Really? That’s all? It has nothing to do with the fact
that you took so much onto your shoulders today? With the grimoire? With
your mother?”
She shoots me a black look over her shoulder, still hanging on to that
streak of stubborn self-reliance.
Allie’s had her run of me today, and I’ve been content to follow her
lead. Well. Maybe not content, per se, but accepting at the very least. Now
it’s my turn to have my way.
“If you insist on breaking yourself against this problem again and again,
then you have to let me be there to pick up your pieces.”
She opens her mouth to protest again, but I have no intention of letting
her.
“I won’t be moved on this, Allison Ashblood. It’s non-negotiable.”
Allie—frustrated, tired, beautiful—looks utterly mutinous for just a
moment more before all that irritation breaks into a wry smile. I’m not sure if
I’ve ever seen anything so satisfying.
“And what would all of this ‘picking up’ include?”
Deciding to go with the most literal interpretation, I swing her into my
arms. She doesn’t protest, does nothing but melt into me with a small sigh,
and something inside of me roars in triumph.
Stepping sideways through a quickly summoned portal, Allie clutches
tighter to me, but there’s not even the slightest pulse of fear from her when
she lays her cheek against my chest, trusting in me to see us safely where
we’re going.
A moment later, we’re back in our chambers inside the mountain keep.
The all-clear came earlier this morning that the mountain is in no danger of
collapse, and I’m more than a little relieved to be back. Having her here, in
our home, soothes some need inside me I can’t put words to.
Even better is having her tucked beside me in bed a short time later.
We’ve both washed up, dried off, and curled up naked beneath the thick
blankets and furs. She’s laying sprawled out on my chest, hand running idle
lines over my skin.
“It hasn’t even been four days,” she says softly. “How is it possible that
it feels like I’ve lived a lifetime in less than four days?”
Something about the question pierces me. How different her life has
become these past few days. Mine has as well, but compared to the changes
she’s had to navigate…
Feeling suddenly like the useless mate I am, I squeeze her tight.
“You must be exhausted,” I say teasingly. “Having lived this lifetime.”
She stretches and groans. “I am, and I think you mentioned something
about putting all my pieces back together?”
Inspiration strikes, and, ignoring her protests, I throw back the covers
and scoot out from under her.
“Wait here.”
Face down on the mattress a half hour later, letting me tend to her, Allie
looks so impossibly beautiful. All smooth skin, gleaming with the oil I’ve
rubbed into her tantalizing, lush curves.
I lean down and run my tongue along the groove of her spine, oil be
damned. She moans and arches into the caress, but I still her with a hand in
the center of her back.
“No,” I tell her with gentle command. “You need rest. Behave and stay
still for me.”
Her mumbled protest is lost in the pillow, but she complies.
I love it when she surrenders to me. Almost as much as I love it when
she fights.
Continuing downwards, I run my lips over the divot just above her
buttocks, pausing there for a moment before moving lower still. Allie makes
a sound that’s half-laugh, half-groan when I press a kiss onto one side of her
ass. She squirms and I swat her. A gentle tap, but a firm warming.
“Be still,” I chide, letting a fang press into her tender skin.
Moving her just the way I want, I spread her thighs and settle myself on
my stomach between them. Hooking both forearms into the notches where the
swell of her thighs meets her belly, I pull her up and back, directly into my
eager mouth.
Allie cries out when I sink my tongue into her from behind.
“That’s it,” I murmur into her core as I lave lazily up fast-dampening
flesh.
My tongue delves inside, lapping at every bit of her sweet heat. I want
to devour her, feast on her for days, let her scent and her taste imprint
themselves into my skin and bones and soul.
When she cries out a few minutes later, arches and presses even harder
into me, I tend to her through every breaking wave of pleasure, drawing it out
until she’s limp and boneless on the sheets. After she subsides, I rise from
behind her, kissing my way from her dripping core up over the sweet swell
of her ass. My lips trace a line all the way up her spine, nipping at the nape
of her neck. She squeaks at the sharp sensation and I chuckle as I roll off of
her.
I mean for that to be it, to let her rest and sleep in sated bliss, but as I
settle myself against the pillows she rises and moves with me. Climbing into
my lap, her legs drape over my hips and her slick cunt presses to my
erection.
A small pang of guilt runs through me. This was supposed to be for her
—her comfort, her relaxation. It seems selfish to seek my own pleasure when
she’s probably exhausted after everything she went through today.
Allie, like she can read my thoughts, just shoots me a small, wicked
smile. She notches me right at her entrance, and with firm, deliberate
slowness, she takes her time working me into her. When I’m pressed into her
knot-deep, she pauses for a moment, rotates her hips, works herself against
the swell of flesh nudging insistently at her entrance.
“When will I take this?” she whispers, pressing down even harder.
“Little witch,” I hiss through my teeth. “Keep doing that and you’ll find
out.”
She’s so hot, so slick, so eager for it that my control almost snaps.
Goddess above, she could take it. Tonight. I could flip her into the mattress
and rut her, make her scream, bind her to me completely.
“When you’re safe,” I rasp into her ear. “When we’re safe from the
threats hanging over our head and can be certain of this life we have
together.”
Allie stills. Her eyes flick back and forth over my face.
“You’re still worried I’ll leave?”
I shake my head. “I know you wouldn’t choose to leave me.”
Emotion wells up in her eyes. “No, I wouldn’t.”
She doesn’t say the rest, and neither do I. The road between here and
safety is littered with challenges and fears that don’t need to be named. Not
right now. Not when my witch is in our bed and in my arms, sharing her
sweet body with me.
I bring my mouth to her throat. Fangs drag lightly along smooth skin.
“Yes,” Allie whispers. “Please.”
Pulling my cock from her, I bite down as I thrust back in. Her cry of
pleasure echoes in my ears and her blood fills my mouth with luscious, dark
ecstasy.
Chapter 34
Allie
The looming full moon quickly begins to feel like the worst kind of
ticking clock.
The next morning, Eren and I rise and prepare to go our separate ways.
He’s going to court to hear more petitioners and deal with whatever unrest
there is in the wake of the earthquake, and I’m heading back to the workroom.
Eren escorts me there, pausing at the threshold to pull me into one last
hug.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him again about what he’s going to
face in court today. I’ve tried, and he’s evaded with reassurances that it’s
handled, manageable, nothing I need to worry about. I know why he’s doing
it. He’s trying to give me space and the peace of mind to let me go about my
work with the grimoire, but I can’t help but be a little irked by it.
I press a kiss to his lips, then another. His hand tangles into my hair. The
bag I’m carrying slides to the floor as I press myself closer to him.
“Witch,” he breathes. “Didn’t I satisfy you properly this morning?”
He did. He absolutely did. But with my demon, apparently I’m
insatiable.
Kissing him again, I murmur against his mouth. “Never. I’m never going
to be satisfied.”
I’m up against the wall a moment later, legs wrapped around his waist.
One of his hands brackets my throat and the other braces under my ass as he
thrusts his hips into the cradle of my thighs. He lowers his head to my neck as
his wings descend around us.
“Witch,” he hisses again. “You shouldn’t taunt me. I might just be
tempted to prove you wrong.”
We take much longer than we rightfully should to disentangle, and by the
time he lets me down I’ve got two new puncture marks in my throat and my
entire body is shaking with unsatisfied need. Picking up my borrowed satchel
from the floor, I shoot him a dirty look.
“You hold on to that until this evening,” Eren says, taking one last lick at
his bite mark and well-aware of my arousal. “And remember who it is
who’ll be satisfying you.”
He portals away and I walk on shaky legs into the library.
“Vayla?” I call out. My voice echoes through the connected chambers,
but I don’t receive a reply.
Deciding to leave it for the moment, I wander over to the shelves,
perusing until I find a section of books that look worn and weathered with
time. I pull out a pair of gloves from my pocket. They’re silky and bright
purple, but hopefully they’ll do for not actually getting my skin on these
books.
I don’t think I’m ready for another adventure in some cursed, ancient
magickal tome.
Pulling a few from the stacks, I make a pile and carry it back through the
chamber with all the maps and into Vayla’s workroom. It’s empty, which I
take as a small blessing.
Piling the books onto a workbench, I reach carefully into my bag for the
grimoire.
Even without touching it, the magick oozing out of the book crackles
over my skin. I set it gingerly on the table in front of me and settle myself
with a deep breath. I’m not ready to touch it again, not ready to wade back
into whatever magick pulled me in before, especially with no one here to
pull me back out.
However, when I flip open the front cover with a gloved hand and stare
down at the page, clarity hits me like a slap to the face.
I can read it.
Not quite believing what I’m seeing, I gape at the symbols which have
fallen into clear, orderly sense on the page. It’s a dedication, a spell of
protection inscribed into the parchment itself.
With these words, I consecrate this book. By the Mother’s blessing and
my own hand, no harm shall come to it and no unwelcome eyes shall fall
upon it.
I take a few moments to collect myself and scrape my jaw off the floor.
Does this make me a welcome eye? How on earth am I seeing what I’m
seeing?
I stand up and lean closer, eyes greedily drinking in the words on the
page. The language comes slowly at first, bits and pieces that settle
themselves into sensible lines in my mind, but after a few passes, it begins to
sink in. There’s music and magick in it, a certain sense of rhythm and
symmetry that’s pleasing to the eye as I read.
Somehow, I’ve been gifted with this knowledge, blessed with the ability
to read the language.
Wracking my brain, the only explanation I have for it is my trip in to the
grimoire back in Joan’s tea shop. By letting the book have me for those few
moments, get its claws into me, maybe leave me imprinted with a bit of its
magick, its arcane language has become clearer as well.
Whatever the case, it’s enough to have me absolutely lost in the book.
My eyes skim over the pages, absorbing as much as I can. The more I read,
the easier the language becomes, like it’s hard-writing itself into my brain
with each passing minute.
The spells and rituals in it are complex. A spell for binding powerful
familiars, one to break particularly nasty hexes, a ritual for severing ties with
a romantic partner. There’s an entire section on potions and tinctures, all of it
powerful healing work. As much as I want to take time to study every entry, I
flip quickly through, looking for anything related to the Veil or the bargain.
Nothing presents itself. I start at the beginning and go through it again,
more slowly this time, and still, nothing.
Letting out a long, frustrated breath, I know what I should do next. I
should take off my damn glove and dive back into wherever I was pulled
before, but without an anchor or any guarantee I wouldn’t just be lost forever
within it, I pause.
I’m afraid, and human enough to admit it.
I need to talk to Eren about it, need to see if he’ll be an anchor and pull
me back when I need it like Joan did, but knowing he’ll be busy in court for
the next few hours, I settle myself into my seat and get back to reading.
The next couple of hours pass that way. Me, methodically poring over
each page of the grimoire, reading and rereading until my eyes ache. I’m
flipping back through the section on potions when an ingredient from a brew
meant to soothe irritated skin jumps out at me.
Hearthberries.
This book was written in the demon realm.
From the moment I laid hands on it, I’ve been half-convinced this book
was written by the first witch, but now I’m almost certain of it. The magick
seeping from its pages is ancient, old and humming with the authority of time.
Just breathing the barest remnants of it, I’m convinced that it wasn’t written
by any witch from this century, or any century close to it. And if it was
written in the demon realm…
I’m so caught up in the implications of that, I nearly jump out of my
chair when a noise from the other side of the room snaps my concentration.
“You’re back?” Vayla asks, dropping her bag unceremoniously onto a
workbench and looking me over from head to toe.
My defenses raise immediately. Not today, demon. Not today.
Spinning around to face her, I cross my arms over my chest. “I am. Is
that going to be a problem?”
Instead of answering right away, Vayla just sniffs a little, and surveys
her work area. “Did you touch anything?”
Oh. So it’s going to be like that.
“I didn’t,” I tell her. “I’ve just been reading.”
She flicks a gaze to the grimoire, though aside from the slight widening
of her eyes she gives no reaction.
“I haven’t touched anything of yours,” I continue. “In fact, I haven’t done
a damn thing to you, so whatever it is that’s got you so pissed off at me, I
think it would be better if you’d just come out and say it.”
“I don’t have a problem with—”
“Yes,” I say emphatically. “You do. You have since the moment you met
me in the throne room. Why?”
Vayla leans back against the workbench and mirrors my posture,
crossing her arms across her chest. She doesn’t speak, just stares me down
with a challenge in her gaze like she’s expecting me to fold.
Too bad for her, I’m in the mood to avoid my bigger problems right
now. I can do this all day. We stay just like that for a minute, and then two.
It’s childish, really, but I’m not about to break first.
When the corners of Vayla’s mouth turn down into a frown, I want to
pump my fist in the air.
“You don’t have even a fraction of your predecessor’s magick.”
It’s a low blow, but I’m not about to let that show on my face. “Emilia?
You’re right, I don’t. But I don’t see why that should make you hate me so
much.”
“Like I said, I don’t—”
“Save it,” I cut her off. “I don’t know what exactly it is that’s made her
leaving so personal for you, but I do know that she’s still concerned about
you.”
Reaching into my bag, I draw out one of the letters Emilia gave me. It’s
got Vayla’s name scrawled across the outside. Tossing it onto the table
between us, I arch a brow at her.
“Read it. I don’t know what it says, but Emilia wanted you to have it.”
Vayla stares hard at me for a few moments, though her indecision shines
in her expression. Unable to stifle it, she lunges for the letter and tears it
open. As she reads, her eyes grow bright with tears.
Not exactly the reaction I was expecting.
I watch her pore over the letter for a few long minutes, reading it over
and over until she finally lowers the paper and presses it to her chest.
“Thank you for bringing this to me.” Vayla’s words are raspy and
broken.
Standing from my seat, I take a few tentative steps around the table.
“Vayla,” I say, approaching cautiously. “What’s going on?”
She searches my face for a moment. Whatever she finds there sends her
guards crashing down. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, glancing down at
the letter in her hands for a moment as she tries to regain her composure.
When she looks at me again, it’s with naked pain in her eyes.
“I… love Emilia.”
My mind spins with the confession. “Her husband…”
“Knew about it,” she says quickly. “And accepted it. I… I love him, too.
The three of us were together.”
If I was spinning before, I’m tossed completely off balance now,
grasping to understand.
Vayla lets out a long, shaky breath. “It’s why I disliked you so much at
first. You were her replacement and I… I hated it. She hasn’t even been gone
a month and I…”
Her voice trails off into silence.
“You want her back,” I supply.
“Yes. I want her back. Sylas wants her back. We both do.” She looks
down at the letter for a moment, brows knit together with worry.
“What is it?”
“Sometimes I wonder…” she trails off, before gathering her thoughts.
“Sometimes I wonder if we broke it. The bargain. Maybe it was never meant
for three.”
The question sparks a lick of anger in me.
“No,” I say. “No. The magick was already breaking down before Emilia
ever came here to the court. She told me it started a long time before then.”
Vayla nods, though she still doesn’t look quite convinced. “Once she
left… it broke something in me. I’ve missed her every day since.”
My anger and sorrow spike even more acutely.
Emilia gave her commitment to this realm. She accepted the command
of the Goddess and followed it freely. Her magick was meant to sustain it
and her sacrifice was meant to be good faith payment.
Whatever she did when she got here, whoever she chose to love? It
shouldn’t matter.
Magick stirs and pulses beneath the barrier of my skin, like it’s reaching
out and reacting to Vayla’s words.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, truly meaning it. “I can’t imagine how difficult
that must be.”
“Can’t you?” she asks with a sad, watery smile. “You’re facing the
same, aren’t you? Being separated from Eren? You must know exactly what’s
at stake.”
Something tight and sharp clenches in the center of my chest. “I’ve only
known him for a few days.”
Even as I say the words, I immediately want to reach out and snatch
them back.
Another smile from Vayla, this one filled with kindness and
understanding. “Demon’s are a little faster with these things than humans are.
I knew I loved Emilia the moment I saw her. And seeing you and Eren
together? I have no doubts the affection runs just as deep. Or it will, given
time.”
Given time.
A guarantee we certainly don’t have.
Impulsively, I walk over and lean against the workbench right beside
her, resting my hands on either side of me. She surprises me again when she
reaches a hand out to clutch mine.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’ve been needlessly unkind.”
“Apology more than accepted,” I tell her. And truly, there’s no reason
for me not to accept. I could use as many demon allies as possible.
We stand in silence for a couple minutes, letting some of the tension and
heightened emotion drain from the air. Vayla seems eager to change the
subject when she speaks again.
“What’s with the book?” she asks, nodding toward the grimoire.
I grimace a little. Giving her a brief rundown of our trip back to the
human realm and the vision I saw when I touched the book, she listens
intently. When I’m finished, she moves from the workbench and walks over
to it, hovering a hand above its cover.
“May I?” she asks.
I hesitate, not sure how the book’s power might manifest itself on her
and unsure how I’d be able to pull her back if it tugged her into the same
vision it showed me.
She reads the hesitation on my face. “Maybe better with a glove.”
Picking one up off the table, she flips the cover open and scans the page,
brow furrowing.
“It’s the same language, right?” she asks. “The same as the books you
were studying the other day?”
“It is. But I can read it now.”
Her eyes widen. “How?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. After it pulled me into whatever vision
or realm or whatever the hell it was that it showed me, I can somehow
understand the text now. It was a little fragmented at first, but I’m getting the
hang of it.”
Vayla looks thoughtful. “This is part of your gift? Your book magick?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I say, shaking my head. “Never thought it would
come in handy like this.”
We spend the next hour flipping through the book. Vayla’s especially
interested in the portions on potion brewing and herbology, and I make a
mental note to translate them for her if I have the time and security to do so.
When we’ve rifled through it front to back, we each take a seat again
and fall into a contemplative silence.
“It’s strange,” I say after a few minutes. “Before coming to this realm,
I’ve never experienced the depth of power I have while I’ve been here. I
expected the opposite, given everything that’s happened.”
“The Goddess works in her own ways,” Vayla says with a wry smile.
“Perhaps all of this is her machination.”
My lips turn up a little at that, but something about the idea doesn’t sit
quite right. If all of this is part of some Goddess-orchestrated scheme, where
does Emilia fit into it? Where does the bargain and any of the Tithe brides
who’ve come before?
Emilia had to manage all on her own here, cut off from her coven and
her realm, as every single Tithe bride before her was expected to. Like I’m
expected to.
For the first time in a long time, a sense of kinship with my sister
witches washes over me.
True, I may not have had the same advantages as Emilia and Josephine
and all the rest, but I’m just as adrift here as any of them would have been. I
look over and study the cover of the grimoire again. If it belongs to who I
suspect it does, maybe she didn’t have much help, either.
“What was her name?” I ask Vayla. “The first witch. Is her name
recorded anywhere?”
If she’s surprised or confused by the question, she doesn’t show it.
“Ariana.”
I run a gloved hand over the cover of the grimoire and whisper the
name. “Ariana.”
As soon as I’ve spoken the name, a gentle glow of magick seeps from
the book. It would appear that Ariana has given her answer.
I know what has to come next. Afraid or not, it’s past time for me to
wade back into whatever this book seems so determined to show me, and for
that I’ll need the only anchor I’d trust to keep me safe while I do.
“Can you take me to find Eren?”
Chapter 35
Eren
My realm and court are in utter chaos.
In the short time Allie and I were gone, there was another earthquake in
a neighboring territory, a brutal storm that battered a seaside village, and a
rock slide on the other end of the Bone Peaks, all of which are being blamed
on the failing magick of the bargain.
Crowley is at the front of a crowd of angry, vocal courtiers eager to
argue for abolishing the bargain altogether, send us back to the dark days of
reaping, but I stop his tirade with a raised hand.
“If you wish to say something, I would advise you to speak plainly,” I
tell him. “I’m in no mood for your bluster today.”
Crowley draws himself to full height and looks me up and down
insolently. “The troubles in this realm grow worse each day. We would have
answers for it, plans for how we are to proceed.”
A chorus of agreement rises behind him.
Scanning the eyes of my courtiers, I find weariness, fear, bright flashes
of anger. All of it’s justified, of course, but my blood heats beneath my skin
as Crowley continues speaking.
“What answer have you for this, majesty? Do you remain firm in your
position to maintain the bargain and forbid us from returning to the old ways
of reaping?”
Sending him a withering glare, I address the entire room. “You have
only to look to our histories to see what damage reaping brought on the
demons who were tasked with it.”
An erosion of soul, of self. Guilt and corrosive magick that ate away at
demons like cancer. We all know the stories.
Crowley, however, does not back down. “How much better off will we
be when the bargain collapses entirely? Do you want to find out what that
does to our realm?”
“It will not come to that,” I say with more certainty than I feel.
He’s not fooled for a moment. “I say that we put it to a vote. Those in
favor of clinging to the bargain and those who would see us go back through
the Veil to do what’s necessary to save our realm.”
More calls of agreement echo behind him, and an unsettled energy fills
the hall.
I came to court this morning hoping it would not come to this, but now
that we’ve reached this impasse, now that the tipping point has become so
clear, there’s no help for it. Taking a deep breath to steal myself, I address
my court again.
“The witches have declared their intent to seal the route through the Veil
between our realm and theirs.”
A ripple of shock murmurs through the court.
Crowley growls in anger. “We must stop them.”
Shooting him another dark glare, I point out the obvious. “I doubt we
would have the means to. Not going up against the magick of the entire
Crescent Coven.”
Another wave of uneasy voices, shifting bodies, and expressions of
concern.
“And your wife?” Crowley says, nearly spitting the words. “Your mate?
Where does she fit into all of this? There are reports that the two of you left
this realm yesterday and returned to the human realm.”
Taking the dais steps two at a time, I stalk forward and stop just in front
of Crowley. I stand a few inches taller, but with the added fury of having my
mate disparaged directly to my face, I feel twice his size.
“You will not speak of my wife.”
Crowley opens his mouth to offer some retort before appearing to think
better of it.
“Allison had the opportunity to stay behind in her realm yesterday,” I
say, letting my voice carry through the room. “She had the chance to leave
me, leave this realm, stay safe and far away from the danger here. She did not
take it. She chose instead to return with me and do everything in her power to
see the bargain restored. Allison believes in this realm and the bargain, she
believes in our ability to see both restored, and I share her faith.”
As the fading ring of the proclamation sinks into the crowd, there are a
few nods, a few murmurs of assent, but also plenty of lingering fear. Cold,
slithering doubt and unease coil low in my belly as I realize it may not be
enough to sway them.
“Her power,” Crowley scoffs derisively. “That’s certainly a comfort.”
I have him by the throat a moment later. The motion happens between
one heartbeat and the next, fast enough that it leaves him flailing and gasping
for air.
“Give me a reason to spare your life.”
His face goes ghost-pale, and both his hands claw at mine where it
squeezes firmly around his neck. His mouth sputters open and closed like a
caught trout and his eyes bug out of their sockets. I could end him, make an
example to the entire court about what happens when their queen consort is
disrespected.
At the same time, that chilly, slimy feeling in my gut only grows more
pronounced with each passing second.
This is not how a king behaves. This is not how an honorable male
behaves. Fear and fury and the need to fight back against the helplessness of
it all carve pits from my soul and leave me utterly uncertain what I should do
next.
“Eren.”
The attention of every courtier in the hall snaps to the quiet voice at the
back of the room.
Allie stands beside Vayla, eyes wide as she takes in the scene. The
female demon has her hand on the knife at her hip, taking a defensive stance
by my wife.
Irrationally, I feel a laugh rise in the back of my throat. Allie made an
ally of Vayla in the span of a single day.
Of course she did.
Allie steps forward, and the crowd parts to make way for her. I drop my
hand from Crowley’s throat, and he goes sprawling out on the floor in front
of me as Allie approaches. He drags a few ragged breaths in as he struggles
to regain his composure, proof enough that he’s still alive.
My mate moves like a queen through her court. Composed, calm, in
control, she hardly spares a glance at Crowley as she comes to take her place
beside me. Extending a hand that I grasp immediately, she leads me back up
onto the dais. The few moments we spend climbing the steps give us a sliver
of privacy.
“How much of that did you witness?” I ask, leaning down to speak into
her ear.
“All of it,” she replies.
A wave of shame breaks over me. Failing in front of my court is bad,
but failing in front of my mate feels a thousand times worse.
Allie surprises me by giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “How can I
help?”
I’m about to tell her it’s not her place to fix my mistakes or clean up
after my blunders, but the fierce determination in her eyes gives me pause.
Her words from last night echo in my head.
Don’t start doubting me. I chose you today, Eren, and I meant it.
My witch, my wife, my consort. I lead her to my throne and gesture for
her to sit. With only a moment’s hesitation, she complies, looking out at the
court and then back at me, a question in her eyes.
I answer it for her, perching on the throne’s arm beside her and speaking
again to the full court.
“My consort and I are working day and night to find a solution for the
bargain, one that will keep both our realms safe and will not call on any
demon to sacrifice themselves in the name of reaping.”
Courtiers’ stares move between us, wary and assessing. Allie does not
fold or shy away from the inspection. She just straightens her spine, lifts her
chin, and meets the eyes of every demon who would question her worth and
abilities.
“In the meantime,” I continue, pride burning through me, “we will
continue to help those in need. There is no greater concern for us than settling
this once and for all, and no lengths we will not go to in order to see it
done.”
It’s hard to determine if the words have had any effect. As the last
echoes of them fade in the high, cavernous ceiling above, I look once more to
my mate. She’s still sitting tall and regal, betraying nothing of what she must
be feeling, but when she catches me looking at her, she glances up with a
softening in her expression. It’s something private, reassuring, meant just for
me.
It threatens to send me to my knees.
I’ve never felt less like a king than during these past months, never more
powerless. Even now, I do not know if we’ll be able to deliver on the
declarations I just made or what the consequences of failure might be, but
when Allie looks at me like she is now?
I believe in our ability to conquer it all.
A male steps forward from the crowd, head bowed in a show of respect
as he approaches the dais. His finely curled horns, deep brown skin and
broad-shouldered frame are immediately familiar.
“Sylas,” Vayla breathes, voice shaking a little from where she’s come to
stand at the foot of the dais, hand still poised on her blade as if she’d wield it
to defend her queen in a moment.
The male nods to her before turning back to address Allie and me.
“Your majesties. I wanted to voice my support of you both.”
Allie must have been filled in at some point about who he is, because
she sucks in a sharp breath.
“Thank you,” she says, voice low but steady. “That means so much to us
both.”
“I would also ask a favor of you,” he continues, a bit hesitantly. “That
is… I would ask that if you are able to renew the bargain and stabilize the
magick… I would ask that…”
He trails off, voice faltering.
“That we bring Emilia back?” Allie supplies gently.
He nods, looks up at us both, and for a moment I’m struck by the
uncanny feeling of staring into my future. Separated from my bride, an
impossible barrier between us.
“We’ll do what we can,” Allie says, a half-promise, but one I know she
has every intention of keeping. “And please know that she’s cared for. Back
in the human realm, she has the entire coven behind her, helping her to heal. I
have a letter for you, from Emilia.”
She pulls it from her pocket and one of the stewards at the side of dais
steps up to take it from her, walking down to hand it to Sylas.
The impact of Allie’s words and receiving the letter seems to undo the
last of Sylas’s composure as he nods again and retreats into the crowd. Vayla
takes a half-step after him before remembering herself and turning to Allie
with a stricken look on her face.
“Go,” Allie says quietly.
Vayla leaves the hall, following her lover, and I lean down to speak into
Allie’s ear. Some of the court have left the hall, though whether in disgust or
grim acceptance I can’t say.
“You are magnificent, my queen.”
A little ripple of emotion moves through her, though she doesn’t
acknowledge the comment. “I came to see if you could accompany me back
to the workroom? I’ve made some progress on the grimoire.”
Nodding, I look out into the crowd and find Felix. He’s at the foot of the
dais a moment later, bowing deeply to us both.
“What service can I render, majesties?”
“Keep this lot in order,” I say, gesturing to the thinning crowd. “And
come find me if there’s any hint of a coup rising.”
He gives me a grim smile. “Understood.”
Chapter 36
Allie
By the time we make it back to the archives, my rush of adrenaline from
the throne room is finally beginning to ebb.
What just happened?
Walking into the throne room and seeing Eren put his hand around that
demon’s neck was a shock. But seeing him react so violently in defense of my
honor…
I shouldn’t find it as hot as I do. There shouldn’t be anything erotic
about my big, hulking demon husband taking my naysayer by the throat and
just daring him to continue insulting me… but here we are. Eren’s got his
hand curled around my elbow as we get closer and closer to the archives,
and even that small touch is sending shoots of desire spiraling out through
every part of me.
“Wife,” he rasps as we reach the door, “I can smell exactly what you’re
thinking.”
“I can’t help it,” I whisper.
I can’t, I really can’t. Damn mating bond or whatever this is making me
go weak in the knees over his barbaric behavior. It’s still blooming through
my veins as he opens the door to the archives and guides me through the
library.
In the map room, he catches me around the waist and lifts me onto the
table carved with a map of his realm. Stepping between my spread thighs, he
braces his hands on my hips.
I half-expect him to just rip off my clothes and have me right there, but
when he speaks again, it’s not with lust in his voice.
“I can’t say how sorry I am,” he tells me quietly, pressing a kiss to the
top of my head. “For putting you in that position, for exposing you to that
spectacle and my shame.”
I lean back, looking up at him. “Shame?”
“Behaving as I did. It was not kingly or honorable, and it’s all the worse
for you having witnessed it.”
He seems absolutely serious, and I don’t quite understand why.
“You mean with Crowley?” I ask. “I mean, he was being a huge dick.”
Eren barks out a surprised laugh and pulls me closer. “Still, I should not
have been so reactive. It’s what he was looking for.”
That may be true, but it’s also true that my lady bits are singing in
response to his entirely uncivilized show of masculine ownership.
“You claimed me,” I say, leaning up to drag my teeth along his neck.
His breath catches in his throat.
“You defended me,” I continue, kissing the places I’ve bitten.
A growl starts low and fierce in his chest. “Always. I will always
defend you Allie.”
“I know. I don’t expect you to be anyone but exactly who you are.” I
lean in and rest my cheek against him. “Besides, you did warn me that
demons run hot-blooded and a little wild.”
He considers that for a moment. “I suppose I did. I would, however, like
to be a bit more civilized for you.”
“Why? Haven’t I made it obvious enough that I like you snarly and halfferal?”
While I speak, I caress the bare skin under his jacket, running fingertips
from his chest to his abs and lower still, toying with the waistband of his
trousers.
“Allie,” he says, a warning. He takes a step back from me with what
seems like supreme effort. “Don’t distract me, witch. What is it you mean to
tell me about this book?”
The thread of command in his voice and the things it does to my lower
belly undercut his order a bit, but I hop down from the table and make myself
focus.
“I can read it.”
Taking his hand and chuckling a little at his look of bald surprise, I tug
him back into the workroom. Putting my gloves back on, I flip the grimoire
open and read its inscription, flip through a few pages and explain what’s
written within.
“This is very clever of you, wife,” he says with something like awe in
his voice. “And is there anything here about the bargain?”
My heart plummets. “No. And that’s what I need your help with.”
He looks at me, confused, waiting for me to explain.
“There’s nothing written in the book about the bargain, but I think there
might be another way to access it. If I lay my hand on the book, I might have
another vision like the one I had back in Joan’s tea shop.”
“Is that safe for you?” His eyes cloud with worry.
“Honestly? I’m not one hundred percent certain, but I think it’s the best
way to move forward. The only way I can think to move forward at this
point.”
He doesn’t seem convinced. When he reaches out to touch the grimoire,
I stop him with a firm hand clasped around his wrist.
“Maybe, uh, don’t touch that,” I tell him. “I’m not sure what would
happen, but I’d rather have it be me than you.”
He looks troubled, but doesn’t argue with me. “How can I help you,
then?”
Taking a deep breath, I strip off my gloves and crack my knuckles. “I
think it would help me to have an anchor.”
I explain to him about the first book I touched in the library, how the
magick wasn’t nearly as powerful as the grimoire’s, but how Vayla had to
pull me back out. And in Joan’s shop, needing her steadying hand to bring me
back out of wherever the grimoire took me.
“I’ll be your anchor,” Eren says immediately when I’m finished.
Even though it’s the reason I brought him here, and even though I
wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it, I still hesitate before accepting. He’s got
a realm to worry about. An entire court looking to him for guidance.
More important concerns than me.
I try to vocalize it, to tell him every single reason it’s a bad idea and
give him a chance to reconsider, but I don’t get more than a sentence or two
in before Eren stops me with a soft kiss.
Pulling away, he looks down at me with a faint smile on his lips. He
cradles my head in his hands, sinking his fingers into my hair.
“Don’t you know?”
“Know what?” I ask. The words spark something in the back of my mind
and draw up a memory I can’t quite grasp.
Keeping his hands where they are, he leans in and kisses the tip of my
nose, the crest of a cheekbone, the middle of my forehead. There’s no
hesitance on his face, no conflict, nothing other than sweet, gentle
reassurance.
“Do you remember what you told me the night we met?” He rests his
cheek against mine.
“I told you a lot of things,” I remind him, rubbing my nose along the line
of his jaw.
“You told me you wouldn’t surrender your soul without getting mine in
return.”
“Yes. I did say that.”
“And what did I ask you?”
Closing my eyes, I try to remember. The words come slow, even as the
echo of all the emotions I felt that night rush back. Fear, arousal, anticipation,
an endless ache in my soul. I’d been so wrapped up in him, so ready to give
him each and every thing he asked for.
Save for my soul.
“You asked me ‘don’t you know?’” I whisper, remembering.
“Yes,” he says, pressing a kiss just below my ear.
What didn’t I know?
The same magick that’s been there since the beginning crests around us.
A sparkle of light and temptation and forever. A thread, faint but gilded,
stretching between us.
What didn’t I know?
It hits me in a rush of magick and certainty. Eren crashes into me—the
very soul of him—open and accepting and brimming over with all the
certainty I could ever ask for.
“You’d already given your soul to me.” The words come out in a ragged
rasp.
“Since the moment I saw you, Allison Amethyst Ashblood, you’ve held
it in your hands.”
With those words, something locks into place. Something deep within
the shifting ether of want and need and fate finally settles.
Eren’s arms close around me. “Let me be your anchor, my heart. Let me
walk this road with you.”
Pulling back slightly, I find all the courage I need in his eyes.
“Alright,” I say on a shaky exhale. “Alright.”
With that settled, we both move to the grimoire. Runes and ancient
script dance across the page, magick beckons, and I draw in a sharp breath as
we approach.
“Do you think she wanted someone to see?”
Eren rests a hand at the small of my back. “Who?”
“The first witch,” I say. “Ariana. Do you think she left all of this behind
because she knew?”
An arm curls around my waist. “I can’t say.”
“I think she did.”
Raising a bare hand, I hover it over the grimoire for a moment. My
fingertips tingle and itch in anticipation and every one of my muscles and
bones seems drawn on some deep, elemental level toward the power
radiating from this book.
“I’ll be right here,” Eren says quietly. “Find your way back to me.”
With nothing left to say, I nod and lay my hand on the grimoire.
The scene is almost the same as last time.
Above, two moons shine. In front of me, the Veil pulses with
opalescent white light rather than the gentle rose it shone with last time.
All around, the world is draped in shadow, and curiously seems to
fade away as it recedes from the Veil. Like a vignette or the set dressing on
a stage, the entire realm appears shrunken down to this one small piece.
The strange incantation begins again, only this time it’s coming from
outside of me, rather than ringing disembodied through my head.
“A sacred vow and a lover’s kiss. An iron-clad deal with a demon
prince. An end to strife and pain. An era of peace will reign.”
The words whisper over my skin, coated with ancient, deep magick.
Over and over, they beckon, and I whirl around to find a spectral figure
hovering in the darkness at the edge of the forest.
She’s not… quite there. Her form is shadowy and indistinct, shifting
with the same sort of energy as the Veil, as if she herself is in some sort of
in-between, summoned for a moment but not meant to stay. I’ve never
interacted with shades or ghosts, but it’s the closest comparison I can
make as she bobs and floats above the earth. Not quite corporeal, but
distinct enough to recognize as human, as a woman, if her lush curves and
flowing, glowing hair are any indication.
When I get closer, she stirs suddenly, whipping around to face me.
Her eyes are two pools of light, no iris or pupil within, but still I know
she’s focused them on me.
“Hello,” I say cautiously.
The shade doesn’t make a sound, though she tilts her head as if in
greeting.
“The grimoire,” I say softly. “Was it yours?”
A nod.
“And you’re… the first witch? The first one to marry a demon?”
Another nod.
“Then the spell is yours?” I ask, repeating the phrase.
Instead of nodding or shaking her head, she gestures toward the Veil.
When she does, the light within stutters, rippling with some unseen power.
After a moment, the shimmering white bleeds into a rich, dark crimson and
then morphs again to emerald before repeating the sequence of colors in
rapid succession. When they settle, they’ve landed on rose pink.
The magick pulsing from within skitters along my skin, leaving a wave
of goosebumps in its wake. Unstable magick, broken magick.
“Yes,” I whisper. “The spell is failing. I need to know how to fix it.”
The shade’s mouth doesn’t open, but the words echo through the air
again. “A sacred vow and a lover’s kiss. An iron-clad deal with a demon
prince. An end to strife and pain. An era of peace will reign.”
“How?”
The shade drifts toward me. When she’s an arm-length away, I can
almost make out her features, even with as hazy and undefined as they are.
There seems to be sympathy in her expression, or maybe pity, and when she
reaches a hand forward I swear I can almost feel her touch.
“Soul magick,” she breathes.
The bottom drops out of my stomach. Part of me had been expecting it
—after all, it’s what my mother theorized, isn’t it?—but the words send a
shot of fear through me.
Soul magick.
No rituals, no ingredients, no potions or candles or any other
trappings of small magick, nothing but the pure power a witch possesses,
the very heart of her, and the mercy of the Goddess to accept or reject it.
How could I have thought it would be anything different?
I nod, and the shade withdraws her hand. She hovers there for a
moment more before starting to fade away.
“Wait!” I say, desperation rising. “Is there anything else you can tell
me? What do I… how do I…”
She pauses, considers. Those hollow, light-filled eyes seem to take my
measure.
“Step into the Veil,” she says. “Do it on the full moon and bring your
demon. Let the rest come naturally.”
Then she’s gone.
I’m left alone in the darkness, and the Veil fades to pearly white once
more.
How do I get out of here?
Taking a few steps away from the Veil and toward the boundary of the
forest, I’m repelled immediately by the wrongness seeping from the woods
where they fade into an inky black void. I consider the Veil, what stepping
through it might mean or where it might bring me, but that also feels
wrong. This entire cursed place feels wrong. Liminal and other, it feels like
something that shouldn’t exist.
Eren, I whisper in my mind. Bring me back to you.
There’s something just at the border of my conscious mind, the
tattered edge of a thread I can’t quite grasp. Even pointing every bit of my
magick toward it, it eludes me.
Eren, I think again. Eren.
There.
It’s the smallest piece, barely enough to wrap a tendril of magick
around, but when I find it I throw my entire being toward it and hope it’s
enough to pull me out.
With a jolt, the illusion breaks.
I’m back in the workroom, half-sprawled on Eren, both of us collapsed
on the floor. He doesn’t realize I’m out right away, and I can feel him
shaking, feel his soothing hand over my hair, hear his desperate pleas.
“Allie,” he whispers. “Allie, come back to me.”
“Eren?” I croak.
With a half-strangled sound, he grabs my face so he can look at me.
When he sees I’m alright, he crushes me back to him, though his shaking
continues.
“You were gone,” he says. “You went limp, and your magick… your
scent… I couldn’t sense any of it.”
A tremor passes through me. Remembering the unsettling magick of that
strange, nowhere place, thinking that I could have been trapped there, makes
my stomach turn over on itself. It turns so violently that I stagger to my feet
and barely make it to the washbasin at the side of the room before I’m
heaving up whatever’s left of my lunch.
Eren’s behind me a second later, pulling my hair out of my face and
rubbing circles over my back as I hunch over and heave. When I’m at least
semi-confident that nothing else is coming back up, I stumble over and
collapse onto a stool. Elbows braced on the table, I rest my forehead in my
upturned palms and focus on dragging deep breaths in and out.
Eren hovers behind me. He keeps his hands on me, touching lightly,
brushing soothing caresses over my arms and back like he’s still trying to
convince himself I’m not going anywhere. I lean backwards into him and let
him take all the comfort he needs.
And truthfully, it’s a comfort for me as well to have someone to lean on.
No, not just someone. I’m thankful to have my demon here, standing
behind me, lending me some of his iron-steady strength. With each inhale, I
take the sharp, clean spice of him into my lungs and with each passing
moment I feel my heartbeat slow to match his.
“I was with her,” I say after collecting myself for another minute. “With
the first witch. Well, kind of. I’m not sure what it was—a vision, maybe, or a
memory. Or maybe just some spell she put on the book while she was still
alive.”
“Did she speak to you?” Eren’s hands drift to my shoulders, massaging
lightly.
“Sort of?” I say. “The words weren’t quite like speech, but they came
from her.”
“And what did she say?”
I can’t answer him right away. Instead, I spin around on the stool until
I’m facing him. Still without speaking, I lean in and nuzzle my face against
the bare skin beneath his jacket, taking more of his delicious scent into my
lungs.
When he places a finger under my chin and turns my face up to look at
him, his eyes widen at the tears pooling in my own.
“Allie—”
“Soul magick,” I interrupt him, giving him a brief explanation of what I
know about it. It’s not much, truthfully, but the gist comes across well enough.
Power. A witch’s pure power.
“I don’t know if I’ll have it in me to fix this,” I tell him, pressing a damp
cheek back to his chest and letting him pull me close again.
When a small sob of exhaustion and frustration and fear slips out, Eren’s
entire body tenses against mine.
“Enough,” he says, voice hoarse and raw. “Enough of this for today.
You’ve done enough.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice, and I don’t offer any protest as he
scoops me into his arms and portals us back upstairs.
Chapter 37
Eren
Back in our chamber, I settle Allie into one of the chairs before the hearth
and fall onto my knees in front of her. She seemed alright when she first came
out of her vision, or wherever the grimoire took her, but now she’s fading
fast.
“What can I do?” I ask her. “What do you need?”
She closes her eyes for a few long moments, tears still sliding down her
cheeks, and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so helpless.
Soul magick, she said to me back in the workroom, is what’s needed to
repair the bargain. Soul magick used by the first witch to bind herself in to
this realm and soul magick that’s lasted hundreds of years.
Until now. Until it’s fallen on my Allie to fix it.
I’m terrified. For her, first and foremost, but also for both our realms,
for the implications of a broken bargain. Allie still doesn’t believe in her
own power or in her ability to make this work, and I don’t know what I can
say to comfort her. I barely understand it, truthfully, and as much as I believe
with my entire soul that she is enough, more than enough, I don’t know if
there’s anything I can say right now to improve the situation in the slightest.
In the bond between us, I can feel everything she does. Fear, sorrow,
exhaustion, it all pulses through me. I’d take it all from her if I could.
“A shower,” she finally mumbles. “And then sleep.”
It’s barely midday, but she seems in danger of passing out at any
moment, so I scoop her up again and carry her to the bathroom. She moves
like she’s still half-dazed, slow and clumsy as I help her bathe and dress in
her robe. The trust she places in me to help her like this is humbling, as is the
sound of deep contentment she rumbles against my skin when we make it
back into the bedroom and I lay down with her on clean, warm sheets.
“I’m going to try,” she says sleepily as we settle against one another.
My breath catches in my throat. “Try what?”
She laughs a little. “You know what. The bargain. On the night of the full
moon, when I’ll have the best chance, I’m going to try.”
“Allison,” I whisper, but she’s determined to have the last word.
“The Goddess chose me once. Maybe it was for a reason.”
Her tone is half-dazed, far away, and it does nothing to dispel the black
fear that settled itself into my gut the moment she collapsed into the grimoire.
“We’ll talk more in the morning.”
Allie makes a soft noise of protest, but it’s only a minute later that her
breathing evens and her body grows limp and heavy against mine. She falls
asleep against me, still placing so much trust in me. Trusting me to hold her
close and keep her safe, trusting me even when she’s so vulnerable.
I smooth the hair back from her face and frown. Her cheeks are
reddened from the heat of the shower, and when I place a hand on her
forehead, she doesn’t feel feverish. Her breathing stays low and even, and
when I place an ear against the center of her chest, her heart sounds strong.
Still, I can’t shake my worry as I stare down at her.
What manner of magick was she subjected to today? How did it affect
her? Part of me wants to shake her awake, reassure myself she’s still in there,
while the more rational side recognizes her scent and magick keeping me
company even while she sleeps. My Allie is still here, though I’ll never stop
being afraid of losing her again like I lost her for those few agonizing minutes
today.
An hour passes and nothing changes, and still I keep my vigil. It’s not
until a soft knock at the chamber door draws my attention that I regretfully
disentangle myself and rise. Allie barely stirs, only lets out a soft little sigh
and relaxes into the pillows.
Felix stands on the other side of the door, face grim. He glances into the
room behind me, but I block his view with my chest, still too rattled to be
anything but brutishly protective of her.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “My apologies. I only came to see if
you were both well.”
“We are fine,” I tell him, stepping into the hallway and shutting the door
behind me. “What is it?”
“More bad news which needs your attention.”
In his hands, a report containing news of a wildfire in the southeastern
territory, a storm blowing in on the western coast.
With a sigh, I hand it back. “Give me a moment.”
Inside our chamber, I scrawl a note and leave it beside Allie, letting her
know where I’ve gone. I can only hope she doesn’t wake before I’m able to
return, whenever that might be.
And as I head back to the throne room with Felix, I leave every piece of
my soul there with her.
Chapter 38
Allie
The next week passes in a blur of dread and desperation.
Those feelings only grow with each book read, each page flipped with
no useful information. Even with the newfound ability to read whatever
language the grimoire is written in, and even with a demon library full to the
brim with rare, ancient books to explore, I get nowhere at all with my
questions.
How does the soul magick that drives the bargain actually work? What
does a witch need to do to harness her own? How likely is it that all of this is
going to be for nothing, and that trying to use my soul magick in the Veil is
going to leave me a withered, dead husk?
The brick wall I come up against time and time again is that there are
really no answers at all. Not for soul magick.
Each time it’s referenced, the authors of the tomes I spend hours poring
over seem to have the same basic opinion about it. It’s exactly what it sounds
like—the essence of a witch’s power laid bare for the Goddess, an
expression of everything she is and every bit of magick she possesses. It’s
rare to find reliable accounts of witches who’ve been foolish enough to even
attempt it, and rarer still to learn of those who’ve succeeded.
Even for the first witch, whose story is referenced in a history of the
demon realm that goes back some three-thousand years, it only says that she
used her soul magick to seal the bargain. It doesn’t say how, or if she ever
left a first-hand account of her experience. Even in her own grimoire, it’s not
mentioned anywhere amongst the pages of admittedly impressive but
ultimately unhelpful spells.
The days pass, and I get no closer to any kind of answer.
I’ve never felt more exposed as a fraud, never felt more hopeless about
my own abilities. Sure, I’ve been able to pick up some neat tricks while I’ve
been in this realm, but nothing that’s going to help me now.
And even those tricks seem to be faltering.
The second morning after my trip into the grimoire, I wake up with an
aching back from sitting hunched over books for hours the previous day, and
with a headache that pulses from my temples to the base of my skull. When I
try to summon a bit of witchlight to warm the tea that’s been left on a side
table, there’s just… nothing.
Eren returns to the room a few minutes later, and finds me standing
there, staring down at the tea and trying to quell my rising sense of panic.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t…” I begin, trailing off. “I wanted to warm it up and I can’t.”
I don’t need to look at him to feel the fear that echoes my own. It’s too
soon. I shouldn’t be fading this fast, but who knows how much of myself I
had to give away to get Ariana’s vision from the grimoire?
Eren braces his hands on my shoulders in a gesture of comfort, but I
move away, walking to the other side of the room to put my clothes on for the
day.
He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and a shadow of concern crosses
his face.
“It’s fine,” I tell him, letting out a breath. “I’m just still tired.”
The words sound hollow even to me, but I can’t face the dark reality of
the situation.
What if my magick is already failing?
Emilia lasted a year, and she was ten times more powerful than I was
when we were both chosen by the Tithe, but damn it anyway. I thought I’d at
least make it a month.
Eren’s thoughts seem to follow a similar path as he glances between the
mug of tea, me, and then gives me a smile that I suppose is meant to be
reassuring. It’s endearing enough that I return to him and wrap my arms
around his waist.
“It’s alright,” I say. “I’m alright.”
We both know that’s not really true, but after just a few seconds in his
arms, I start to feel better. Whatever happens, I’m going to savor this.
“I should get going,” I tell him, leaning away slightly. “Lots more
pointless reading to do today.”
He pulls me back in and kisses the top of my head. “Let me fly you
down?”
“A portal is faster.”
“Yes,” he agrees, reaching down and lifting me into his arms. “It is. It
also deprives me of the opportunity to impress you with my strength and
wingspan.”
My laughter follows us out of the room and bolsters me for another day
of searching for answers I’m sincerely starting to doubt are even there to be
found.
My sense of determination lasts all the way until the night before the full
moon.
Evening has fallen outside the mountain keep, and I’m hunched over one
of the last books I’ve pulled from the shelves for the day. Despite laying my
hands on its pages earlier and getting the distinct sense that the last person to
read it had a particular fondness for fresh pomegranates and raspberries, I’ve
gotten nothing else useful during the hours I’ve been staring at it.
I straighten and roll my shoulders, letting out a long sigh as I push the
book away.
Eren mentioned taking supper in the great hall tonight, and absolutely no
part of me wants to do it. This whole week, I’ve only made brief
appearances in the court, and call it selfishness or shame or self-protection,
but I just don’t think I can handle so many eyes on me when the brave face
I’ve tried to put on feels like it’s already spider-webbed with cracks.
The candle sitting beside me on the table finally burns out after
sputtering a few times, and I absently reach out to light another with a bit of
witchlight. It takes a moment of absolutely nothing happening for me to
remember.
Right. Powers are gone. Excellent.
Standing, I move around the room and try to find something else I can
use to light it. A match, a torch of some sort, anything, and I come up empty.
Frustration mounting, I return to the unlit candle and close my eyes, hold my
hand out, and try to concentrate.
Anything. Anything at all. Any tiny spark of power to let me know I’m
not back to being an utterly useless witch again.
Opening my eyes, the candle remains stubbornly unlit.
It’s enough to blow those cracks in me wide open.
Sinking back onto my stool, I rest my elbows on the table and press my
face into my hands. The tears come a moment later. It’s not pretty crying,
either, but big, wracking sobs that tear through me and wet, messy tears that
fall from my cheeks to the tabletop. The noises I’m making are pathetic,
dejected, and quite frankly embarrassing as I let it all out.
A candle. A freaking candle was all it took to break me.
I’m only thankful I’m alone, no one here to witness what a damn mess I
am.
“Allie?”
Well, shit.
Pulling my head up, I see Eren just before he reaches me and throws his
arms and wings around me. I’m lifted, carried back through the map room
and into the library where he settles into one of the plush armchairs with me
in his lap.
“Shh,” he soothes when we’re seated. “What’s wrong?”
Nothing comes out but more tears when I try to answer him. Everything,
I want to say, everything is wrong. But, because that would be even more
pathetic, I settle for crying all over his jacket for the next few minutes. When
I’ve finally quieted down, he tries again.
“Allie, what’s wrong?”
I still can’t answer that question, so I deflect. “What are you doing
down here? You were supposed to be in court for another hour.”
Silence is my only answer. Beneath me, his body tenses a little. When I
raise my damp eyes and look at him, it’s guilt I find written clear as day
across his face.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I can… feel you,” he admits after another few beats of silence.
“What does that mean?”
Eren’s eyes dart back and forth across my face like he’s trying to gauge
what kind of reaction he’ll get to whatever he tells me next.
“Just tell me. Please.”
He lets out a tense breath. “It’s because of the mate bond. When you
experience powerful emotions, I can feel an echo of them through the bond.”
“Even if you’re not in the same room?”
“I think I’d be able to feel it even if we weren’t in the same realm.”
My stomach drops. “So you could feel all of that? When I started losing
my shit over a candle, you knew I was having a breakdown?”
He looks confused at the candle comment, but nods slowly. “When you
started to cry, I could feel that.”
“Fuck,” I say, struggling to move away from him.
He doesn’t let me go anywhere. “It’s not… I don’t mind.”
“I mind,” I say, tears returning. “I don’t want to add everything I’m
feeling to everything you’re already dealing with. It’s not fair. It’s just making
me more of a burden to—”
“Enough,” he says, with enough firm command behind the words to give
me pause. “Feeling you this way, having this bond between us, it’s the
greatest blessing I could ever ask for. Not a burden.”
Something warm and comforting coils itself around my heart. Still, I
can’t let it go. “But if all it’s bringing you is more pain and misery on top of
everything else, what good is that?”
Eren reaches up and wipes away a tear from my cheek. “It’s still a
blessing, because I know when you need my help the most.”
“You’ve already got enough to deal with.”
He starts to protest again, but I keep talking, the words tumbling out of
me like water out of a burst dam now that I’ve gotten going.
“With everything that’s going on and everything your court needs from
you right now, I don’t want to be one more worry. I just want to be… I want
to be…”
“What?” he prompts.
“I just want to be useful.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, Eren tenses. When he hooks
a finger under my chin and makes me look up at him, his expression is soft
and searching.
“What makes you think you aren’t?”
I can’t answer him right away. It’s obvious, isn’t it? No one has ever
needed my magick before. There’s never been any point to it. Now that I
might be able to actually make a difference, I need it to mean something. If all
I’m doing is distracting him and taking his focus from things that really
matter, it would be better if I weren’t here at all.
When I stay silent, Eren pushes me a little harder.
“The children you taught back in the human realm, did you not make
their days better, their lives a little brighter?”
“Yes, but—”
“All of your friends, your mother, Joan, do you not think they value
you?”
“I know they do.”
“All the work you’ve already done to unravel the bargain’s secrets and
to renew its magick is invaluable to this realm. So much more than merely
‘useful.’”
I make a small, protesting noise in the back of my throat, but Eren isn’t
finished.
“And besides,” he tells me, pressing soft kisses on my cheeks, my
forehead, the tip of my nose. “Your value does not lie in what you can
provide for others or what ‘use’ you render, my bride. Your value lies in the
simple fact of your life, your existence.”
I’m crying again, staring up at him through eyes welling up and spilling
over with tears.
Eren readjusts me in his lap, tucks my head into the hollow between his
neck and shoulder, and swipes away those tears with the pad of this thumb.
“Never doubt your value, little witch. Never with me. There is nothing
more precious in any realm or universe than you, to me, nothing more
valuable.”
“Thank you,” I tell him in a raspy whisper. “And I’m sorry for… for
being like this.”
“Never be sorry for your struggles or for trusting me enough to share
them with me. Just let me help you through them.”
I nod, swallowing hard around the lump in my throat.
“Will you tell me?” he asks softly. “Will you help me understand why
this is so important to you?”
I haven’t yet, have I? As much as I’ve told him about my life in Beech
Bay, the bare details I’ve shared about my mother and the coven, I still
haven’t given him the full story. Whatever he’s assumed or been able to
guess, he still deserves to hear it all from me.
I tell him about it in stops and starts, in halting sentences that still don’t
come easy even with as much as I want him to know. My childhood. My
strained relationship with my mother. The loneliness I felt at not measuring
up to the coven’s standards or to my mother’s. The pride I felt at building a
good life for myself despite all of that.
Eren doesn’t interrupt me, even when I have to pause to find the right
words. No, he simply keeps one hand on my back, one wing curled
protectively around me and listens until I’m finished talking.
When I’m done, we’re both silent for a long time, sitting in the warmth
of the crackling fire. The silence isn’t awkward or weighty. It’s comfortable.
It’s a silence that feels like understanding, like acceptance.
“Thank you,” he says finally, pressing a kiss to my damp cheek. “Thank
you for trusting me with all of that.”
Simple. The words are so simple, the act of him listening and accepting
and making me know I’m seen and heard and appreciated, just as I am, is so
simple.
We stay together for a long time, trading more quiet words and stories,
touching and relaxing in front of the fire. His heart beats steadily beneath my
cheek and those familiar, gentle threads of understanding stretch and weave
between us.
Tomorrow is the full moon. Tomorrow everything changes.
I wish this moment could stretch out for eternity, wish this peace could
last. I know it can’t, and when we stand and get ready to go back upstairs, all
those cracks in my heart refuse to close.
Chapter 39
Eren
Allie is quiet when we return to our room for the evening.
Her tears have stopped and her emotions feel a bit more steady through
the bond, but I’m reluctant to set her down when we portal into our bedroom.
Still, knowing she may need the space, I set her on her feet and she wanders
into the bathroom to splash some water on her face.
Even as she walks away, I can still feel her as clearly as if she were in
my arms.
It stole my breath, the clarity with which I felt her sadness tonight. There
was never a choice, never a single moment of hesitation before I went to her.
I will always go to her.
She could be in any of the thirteen realms, and I’d find her. I knew it on
the night of the Tithe and I know it now. Even if she’ll never experience this
bond between us the way I do, even if she never decides to accept it, or fully
understand how much it means to me.
Part of me knows she doesn’t. If she did, she would have never
questioned the gift it is to be connected to her so deeply that her joy and her
sadness have become one in the same with my own.
Still, no part of me faults her for it.
If we’re built fundamentally different, if she’ll never be able to grasp
what it means to have a bonded mate, then I’ll show her in other ways. I’ll
love her as well and deeply as any demon has loved his mate until she knows
without any doubt what she means to me. I’ll earn the bond I have with her
and spend my life making myself worthy of her.
If only we can make it through tomorrow night.
The remnants of her pain and fear echo through me, and from the flavor
of it, I can tell it’s grounded in exhaustion and doubt. Allie is stretched to a
breaking point.
Everything she shared with me tonight is still lodged firmly in my chest,
aching with each beat of my heart. Allie is strong, strong enough to have
made a life for herself even without the support of her coven, and knowing
there’s still some part of her that feels like she’s lacking is intolerable.
Knowing that being here, struggling with everything that’s been dropped on
her and having those same feelings of inadequacy brought to the surface,
makes me ache to wrap her up and keep her close.
My lovely mate, who’s never felt like she belonged. My beautiful wife,
who still doesn’t know how very precious she is. I’m not sure if anything I
have to offer her will fix any of it, or if it’s anything close to what she needs.
I hope it is. If she’ll only let me, I’d make her understand that she’ll need
never doubt herself here, with me.
Her magick, though slightly banked, flares a little when I approach her
and wrap my arms around her waist.
“Can I take you somewhere tonight?” I ask, already with the perfect
place in mind.
If a distraction will help, I’d take her anywhere.
She cranes her neck to look up at me, and my heart stutters a little to see
some of the light returned to her eyes. “Are you asking me on a date?”
“Date?” I tease, knowing full well what it is. “Is this a human custom?”
“It is.” She turns and wraps her arms around my neck. “And yes, you
can.”
Chapter 40
Allie
Eren doesn’t take us from the room right away. Instead, he runs soft hands
over my shoulders and down my sides to rest on my hips. He leans down to
press a kiss to the side of my neck, but the caresses aren’t urgent or meant to
inflame. They’re gentle and soothing, a slow dance of touch, of give and take
meant to bring us both a little bit of peace.
After my crying jag and everything we shared earlier, I’m in a seriously
weird headspace right now. The prospect of getting out of this mountain even
for a little while is suddenly so, so appealing.
Whether that includes any other intimacy, I don’t even care. Time with
him is all I want, time for us to savor before it might run out tomorrow.
Sex between us the last few days has been… different. Tender, slower,
both of us exhausted by the long days and running on fumes as the full moon
approaches. I’m grateful for that tonight, grateful we can have this wonderful
sort of intimacy as well, a luxury of lazy, reassuring touch that soothes
something in me that’s still ragged and broken.
“Are we taking a portal to our date?” I ask, still leaning into that touch.
He nips at my ear. “Yes, if you’re ready?”
I nod, and a heartbeat later he takes my hand and pulls me forward
through an effortlessly summoned portal.
We’re back in the mountain cabin.
Only, tonight everything is different. The dust is cleared away, new
furniture has been placed around the room, and the whole place feels so
wonderfully cozy and lived in and strangely human, that for a second I think I
might start crying again.
It feels like a home.
“What is all this?” I ask, staring in wonder around the room.
When I turn back to him, he looks a little sheepish. “I wanted this place
to feel like it used to. I thought it could be a retreat of sorts, like it was while
I was growing up. I’ve always loved it here, and wanted to share that with
you.”
It’s clear that a ton of time and effort must have gone into getting all of
this cleaned up in just a few days. The idea that he would have considered
all of this, been so thoughtful, gone out of his way to make it happen when
he’s had so much else to occupy his thoughts, it puts a lump back into my
throat.
“You said your family used to come here?” I ask him, reaching for
anything that will keep me from starting up the waterworks again.
“Yes,” he says, looking around the room with a smile filled with
memories. “It is my hope… it is my hope that one day you and I will share
those same memories with our own family.”
Well, so much for that.
Seeing my tears, he rushes back to me and folds me into a hug. “I’m
sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“I want that,” I tell him with a ferocity I didn’t know I still had enough
left in me to summon. “With you. Our life. A family. I want all of it.”
Eren rumbles low and possessive and pleased in his chest. “You’ll have
all of it.”
Burrowing into him with a wobbly smile and a long, shaky exhale, I let
my body say what I can’t. I don’t doubt for a moment that he would give me
anything I wanted. Anything in his power, it’s mine.
But that’s not what I’m worried about.
All of it is in my power now. My power to succeed or fail tomorrow.
My power that will reforge the bargain or see it fall apart completely.
Chapter 41
Allie
Evening falls on the night of the full moon with a sense of utter finality.
The realm has been strangely quiet today, and though Eren’s had to step
away from the cabin a few times throughout the day to deal with court stuff,
we’ve been left mostly in peace to rest and cuddle and just enjoy each
other’s company for a few final hours.
No. Not final. This won’t be all the time we have. It can’t be.
As we dress and prepare to head back to the Veil, neither one of us puts
the fears and the potential disasters hanging over our heads into words. We
don’t have to. Even though I might not sense him through the bond like he can
sense me, I can still read my demon’s tight, worried features and the tension
in his posture. I know him, and can see my own anxieties echoed back at me
even without words.
“Ready?” I ask him, coming down the stairs a few minutes later to find
him waiting in the entryway.
“Not even remotely,” he says with a small smile.
I take the hand he offers. When we step out of the cabin and Eren opens
up a portal back to the woods outside the Veil, a sense of grim determination
settles over me. No matter what happens tonight, we’ll have an answer, and
there’s a certain amount of peace in that.
Standing in the woods just beyond the Veil, hand-in-hand with Eren, I
stare into its swirling depths. Like the rest of this day has been, it’s almost
suspiciously quiet.
Behind us, members of the court have gotten word of what’s happening
here tonight and have come to watch the spectacle. Felix, Vayla and Sylas,
Crowley and a few council members, along with a handful of others. I glance
at them for just a moment before turning back to the Veil, peering into its
depths like I could see through to the coven elders on the other side.
“We should talk to them first,” I tell Eren. “The coven. They’ll be
getting ready to start whatever they have in mind to seal the Veil.”
He nods, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before turning back to
face the demons waiting at the forest’s edge.
“If Allison and I don’t return,” he says, deep voice carrying across the
space between. “Felix is named regent in my stead.”
Even from this distance, I see Felix’s shoulders straighten and his tight
nod of assent. A pulse passes between the two demons—years of respect and
friendship and understanding.
“An honor, my king,” Felix says softly. “And one I hope will not come
to pass.”
Eren returns his nod, no further words needed, and turns back to me.
“Shall we?”
I lay my hand on the stone, and the Veil pulses emerald. We step inside,
and a few moments later, we exit back in the human realm.
The first face I see is my mother’s.
Tight with worry and determination, eyes locked on the portal, washed
in red light, she watches as we step through the Veil and stumble into the
clearing. She raises one hand to her mouth to stifle whatever emotion is
threatening to break from her, and a murmur moves through the crowd behind
her.
The power in these woods is palpable. Not just from the Veil, but from
the assembled witches. The coven’s most powerful. It radiates in notes of
copper and iron, lacing the air with a faint metallic edge.
There must be at least a hundred coven members here.
I recognize nearly every face staring back at me. Young and old, former
classmates and friends of my mother. All here to see the portal between
worlds closed off for good.
Sitting just a short distance from the Veil is a large, oblong black stone.
Obsidian maybe, or tourmaline. Whatever it is, I can feel the powerfully
protective, banishing energy radiating off it from here.
“Allison,” my mother says, stepping forward. “What are you doing
here?”
As she speaks, she looks over my shoulder at Eren, glancing nervously
between the two of us.
“I’m here to ask you for just a little more time.”
She shakes her head. “Tonight is the full moon, we can’t wait for—”
“There’s an hour until it reaches it’s zenith. I only want that long.”
She frowns, but doesn’t answer right away, and I glance over at my
demon.
Eren has come to stand beside me, a hand resting on the small of my
back and his wings flared out behind us. I take in his serious, handsome face,
the hard look in his eyes as he scans the coven, searching for any sign of
danger, ready to protect me as always. Something shifts and clicks into place
in the center of my chest, though I hold on to the words for now.
Turning back, another familiar face catches my eye, just over my
mother’s shoulder.
Emilia, looking lovely and fragile, but with a fierce determination in her
eyes that sparkles in the pale light of the full moon.
She catches my gaze for a moment, but then stares beyond me, eyes fixed
the light of the Veil. “I wanted to be here, to see it sealed.”
See, I want to tell my mother. It isn’t just me you’re hurting with this.
Still, knowing that even two witches’ plights compared to the safety of
the entire realm won’t sway her, I stick to the plan.
“I got answers from the grimoire,” I say, my emotions perilously close
to the surface.
Believe in me, the frightened child in me wants to say. Tell me I’m
strong enough to do this.
“What answers?”
“Soul magick,” I tell her, voice steady.
My magick, that same voice says. Magick that’s going to be enough.
I don’t know what makes me believe it. By all rights, I shouldn’t.
Standing here, with the strength of the coven around me, the unstable Veil at
my back, and my own mother looking at me like I’m still the powerless witch
I’ve always been, there's no reason for me to believe I’m going to succeed.
And yet.
Eren stands beside me. My Goddess-blessed husband. My mate. My
demon who’s never seen me as anything but capable and who’s been in awe
of my gifts from the beginning. My partner in all of this, who’s challenged me
to see my magick and myself in a new light.
It’s going to be enough. I’m going to be enough.
All the color has drained from my mother’s face. It’s replaced by doubt
and fear and concern, everything I need to know about her faith in my
abilities. “Allison—”
There’s nothing left to say—either on her end or mine—nothing but
pleas and warnings I won’t listen to, and reassurances she’ll never believe.
No. The time for all of that has passed.
Instead, I step forward and hug her tightly. “I love you, mom.”
When I pull away, there are tears dampening her face. “I love you too,
Allie.”
I’m… okay. It’s the third time now we’ve said goodbye like this, and
nothing much has changed. Maybe it never will… and maybe that’s okay, too.
We part, and Eren retakes his place beside me.
“An hour?” I ask her again. “If nothing comes of it, well, you’ll do what
you think you have to.”
In an instant, Esme Hawthorn regains her composure as High Priestess
of the Crescent Coven. She takes a step back and nods magnanimously, face
settling back into calm determination.
“An hour.”
Chapter 42
Eren
Allie’s mother still doesn’t believe in her.
That fact is clear enough as Esme retreats to speak with the other coven
leaders, leaving Allie and I alone to face the Veil.
Beside me, though, Allie doesn’t waver for a moment. No, when she
turns back to me her face is dry, her eyes clear, and her intent crystallized and
unmistakable.
It’s time to step into the Veil.
Before we venture back inside, I take a few final moments to study her,
savor her, breathe in the sweet scent of her magick. Like she knows what I’m
doing, she stretches up to wrap her arms around my neck, pulling me into her.
Bliss. Pure, utter bliss. Each passing second might contain decades.
Each moment in each other’s embrace might last the rest of our lives.
When I pull back, it’s a queen I see before me.
Magnificent. Regal. Mine.
I can’t help but think of the last night we spent in these woods, of
everything I felt when I saw her for the first time. I thought I’d been certain,
then. Seeing her—Goddess-chosen and glowing—I thought there was nothing
that could have ever eclipsed that moment.
How wrong I’d been.
Allison Amethyst Ashblood is a woman for the ages, and there’s no one
I’d rather have beside me tonight. Here, now, with everything in the thirteen
realms stacked against us, I’d choose this—choose her—a thousand times
and a thousand more.
We step together to the edge of the Veil, and she glances up at me.
Neither of us has spoken about this next part out loud, though I think we’ve
both always known how it would be, how it had to be.
“You’re coming with me, demon?” she asks.
“This is a bargain, isn’t it? With a demon prince? Stands to reason I
should accompany you for it.”
Allie’s answering smile shines brighter than the Veil.
“We do this together, my mate,” I tell her, taking her hand. “Whatever
may come of it.”
Chapter 43
Allie
I don’t think I’ve ever noticed just how silent the inside of the Veil is.
The times I’ve stepped in with Eren, I’ve been too busy trying not to
hurl at the stomach-turning sensation of being lost in the space between
realms. My ears have rung with my own erratic heartbeat and the rasp of
panicked breath in my lungs.
But now?
Now there’s only silence, only peace.
Instead of roiling, rolling waves of ether and the chaos of fear, I focus
on my hand in Eren’s and let myself be lost within.
Still, there’s a moment, just one, where I’m not sure exactly how this
will work. What had Ariana told me?
“Step into the Veil.”
We’ve done that much.
“Do it on the full moon, and bring your demon.”
Check, and check.
“Let the rest come naturally.”
You’d think the centuries-dead spectre of a witch would have been a bit
more helpful.
I’m still clutching Eren’s hand tightly in mine. Around us, the peaceful
ether ripples and grows agitated. Its gentler eddies and whorls swirl with
discontent, like it knows we’ve already overstayed our welcome. The wisps
and tendrils of magic start to feel like the faint brush of thistle against my
skin.
“A sacred vow and a lover’s kiss. An iron-clad deal with a demon
prince. An end to strife and pain. An era of peace will reign.”
I close my eyes.
A single, brief flash of fear as a vibrant tapestry of magick expands and
unfurls behind my eyes. A brilliant weave, strands in every color and tenor
of power. It’s a depth and breadth of magick I could have never even
imagined. A tiny sliver of the Goddess’s heart cracked open for just a
moment.
With my next breath, I open my eyes and look up at my demon.
“Eren Dane Ashblood,” I tell him, letting the words come to me from
everywhere and nowhere. “I offer myself to you in service of your realm. My
magick, my body, my soul, everything I have is yours. I vow this to you, for
as long as I shall live.”
A sheen of tears over his eyes. “I’ll take your offer, witch. And I’ll give
you one of my own. A home, where you’ll always be safe and protected. A
heart, which will love you for an eternity. A soul, which will always be
yours. Do we have a deal?”
“Yes,” I say, magick flowing from the word like water. “We have a
deal.”
His answering smile could light up worlds.
“A kiss, then,” I remind him. “To seal our bargain.”
He cups my face with both hands, threading his fingers into my hair.
When his lips touch mine, the magick swirling around us pulses outward in a
burst of brilliant rosy light. Engulfed by that magick, my kiss grows more
urgent, more demanding. Eren responds in kind, crushing me to him and
pulling me deeper into his embrace.
It’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough.
Spurred on by whatever spell our bargain is weaving, we claw at each
other with eager, ravenous hands. Clothes are shed in a frenzy, mouths
bumping, teeth rasping, and bodies finding our way back to one another when
we’re bare.
I expect it to be a bit of an effort, making this work in this strange,
weightless, nowhere place. But, like everything else tonight, it’s easy and
instinctual. We fit together like we always do, Eren entering me with a
forceful thrust that draws groans from us both.
Cradled against him, nearly filled by him, I feel him swell against my
entrance.
I know my body can take it, take all of him, let myself be claimed.
Sliding down, welcoming him into me completely, it feels like a
homecoming. His chest heaves and a long, ragged groan breaks from him
when he sinks home.
“Witch,” he hisses into my ear. “Allison.”
“Eren,” I moan in reply. “I love you, my mate.”
His body stills. “Say it again.”
“I love you. My mate. My demon.”
“As I love you.”
Eren’s knot swells in me, locking us together, and I can’t help the
scream of pleasure that rips from my throat. I’m filled, utterly claimed by
him, and it’s as natural as our two hearts beating in time with one another.
The echoing, ragged gasp of our breathing fill the surrounding ether with
the sound of our pleasure, and Eren draws another scream from me when his
fangs find my throat and sink deep. I’m consumed by rolling, devastating
waves of bliss, and it’s not long until my climax builds to a breaking point.
I come in a wash of pure, wrenching sensation that explodes from me
into the ether. Eren tips over a moment later, sweat-slicked and wild beneath
the pressure of my hands. With each pulse of combined release, I feel the
bond between us grow stronger. It crests and expands, fills the entire
universe with sparkling power.
It’s magick. Beautiful, soul-claiming magick.
When it breaks, I’m not afraid. I don’t doubt for a single moment that
we’ll make it through.
Of course we will. We were always meant to.
Eren holds me close through every last moment of release. There—
suspended somewhere out of space and time—the spell becomes as clear as
day. Spreading around us in the ether, I can read its winding threads and
knotted ends with as much ease as I can read my own name or the strange
symbols in Ariana’s grimoire.
Closing my eyes, I whisper to the ether, to the Goddess.
“Please.”
Another world expands in front of me, within me. Magick I’ve never
dared to imagine, power so immense it should terrify me.
It doesn’t, and it’s as natural as breathing to reach a mental hand out and
touch those strands.
Each one falls into place guided by my magick. That power is laced
faintly with notes of wood-smoke and spice, crisp parchment and the crackle
of summer lightning. With it, I stitch together what’s been broken, and see so
clearly how Ariana made herself and her successors conduits for the streams
of magick to flow freely between realms. Like anything vast and ancient, the
spots of decay need to be repaired, the webs woven tighter, the dust cleared
away.
I’ll never do magick like this again.
Even as I continue to work at the spell, I’m well aware of that fact. In
the long moments I exist here—lost somewhere in the ether of the Veil and
the heart of the Goddess Herself—I savor the moments of pure, unimaginable
beauty that can only be experienced once.
When the full picture has nearly knitted itself together, smoothing into an
even weave once more, I pull myself back to survey my work.
The spell isn’t quite the same as it was before.
At the very end, the signature of it changes. The lines of magick unravel,
the threads laying themselves out in front of me like they’re inviting me to
weave my own ending. It’s as easy as reaching my hand forward as I throw
my power out to meet them, instinctively tying them over and under and
through until the last gasp of that power has found its new home.
I smile at my work, satisfied.
When the spell is complete, the ether recedes. The Veil shines with
blinding silver light as Eren and I step out, back into the demon realm.
We’re strangely re-clothed, and I get the distinct, off-kilter feeling like
no time at all has passed since we went in. It’s as if wherever we were
existed in some time and space out of any kind of continuum we know.
Behind us now, I don’t think I’d ever voluntarily go back to that place, and a
settling certainty in me tells me we’ll never need to.
On shaky legs, we take our first steps into whatever waits beyond.
Chapter 44
Eren
For a few long moments, the Veil is entirely transparent.
Esme and her coven stand on one side, Allie and I and our demon court
on the other.
Even without access to the same magick Allie has, the shift of power in
the air is apparent. Peaceful, rather than unstable. Whole, rather than
fractured. The Veil pulses with that power, indifferent to the machinations of
mortals as ever, but with a sense of chaos tamed.
Beside me, Allie is glowing even more brightly than she did on the night
of the Tithe. The color in her cheeks is still high from what just passed
between us, the bite mark on her neck is crimson and distinct, and she’s never
looked more glorious. All I want to do is throw her over my shoulder and
carry her somewhere private.
Goddess above. The need to be back inside her is clawing at me
already. Whether through the magick that lingers on our skin or the strong
pulse of adrenaline in my veins, or just looking at her and seeing the
fearsome, powerful creature she is, I’ve never wanted her as much as I do in
this moment.
Turning back to the coven on the other side of the Veil, I address Esme
directly. Her eyes are wide, an expression of pure shock on her face, and I do
my best to conquer my immediate urge to roar in triumph.
“I think you will agree,” I tell her instead, wrapping an arm around
Allie’s waist. “The bargain has been renewed. There need be no further
action taken this evening.”
Esme nods slowly, watching her daughter with a new light in her eyes.
“How did you do it?”
I fight back a growl of irritation. Questioning her daughter, even now?
Allie, though, just nudges my side before shrugging a shoulder.
“Soul magick. I’ll pop back through the Veil and tell you about it,
sometime.”
A small, unsteady laugh breaks from Esme’s throat. “Fair enough.”
As the swirling white mist of the Veil begins to drift back in, Esme takes
a step closer. “You will come back? Not now, of course, but will you…
you’ll come back and visit?”
Allie’s face softens, and she gives her answer just as the Veil closes
completely. “Yeah, mom. I will.”
Esme’s smile is the last fading image I see before the stone archway is
entirely eclipsed by white.
“Not too soon,” I growl at my witch, dropping my voice low enough that
only she can hear, desire rising in my blood. “Now that we’ve renewed this
bargain, we have an obligation to see its terms met, and I seem to recall a
certain body and soul that you’ve surrendered to me completely.”
A delighted shiver moves through her, and then she freezes.
“What?” I ask her.
“I… felt that.”
“Felt what?”
She closes her eyes, concentrates, and then pops them open with a
surprised gasp. “I feel you.”
“What do you—” I don’t get the rest of the words out before she’s
thrown herself into my arms, crushing her mouth to mine. It’s an open, carnal
kiss that immediately stokes the banked fires of lust just beneath my skin.
Pulling away with a satisfied sigh, Allie smirks up at me. “Oh yeah, I
definitely felt that. Is this what you meant when you talk about the mate
bond?”
She can… feel me? I nearly lose it then and there, scoop her up and take
her somewhere far away from our audience to see just how much of me she
can sense, when a cough sounds from the other side of the clearing. Allie
giggles.
“Witch,” I say in warning. “We’re not done talking about this.”
Settling myself as much as I can, I take her hand and walk with her back
to our court.
There are calls of congratulations, and a crowd that seems to keep
expanding as word spreads and more of my court portals into the clearing.
Before long, we’re surrounded by well-wishers whose relief fills the
surrounding air.
It’s only interrupted by a noise from somewhere near the Veil.
“Sylas?” a voice calls from behind us. “Vayla?”
Emilia stands just on this side of the archway, a small, hopeful smile on
her lips. The cries of happiness and relief from her two lovers and the
outpouring of emotion at their reunion is a joyous thing. Letting them have
their privacy, I take my own lover’s hand.
“We’ll be back in court tomorrow,” I tell Felix.
He shoots us both a wicked grin. “Of course, your majesties.”
I clap him on the shoulder before taking my bride in my arms and
striding away from the crowd.
“It’s a bit rude to just leave, isn’t it?” she teases, settling herself against
me.
“Yes,” I tell her. “Ask me if I care.”
She only laughs, and when we’re far enough away from the rest, I take
us skywards.
Epilogue
Allie - Two months later
My demon is on the hunt.
Only today I don’t know if he’s in the forest or the mountain keep or in
any of the dozens of places we’ve explored during the months since the
bargain was renewed.
I’m running through the mountain meadow, flushed and out of breath as I
contemplate my next move. It’s a rare day away from the responsibilities of
the court and of rebuilding from all the damage caused by the failing bargain,
and I intend to savor every single second of it.
Long grasses and wildflowers tickle my legs as I run, flying through the
open plain with a speed that still surprises me every time I let myself unleash
it.
Maybe Eren was right all along. Maybe I’m not quite human anymore.
He appears behind me a second later and I shriek, darting away from
him and through a portal that opens as easily as stepping through an unlocked
door. I snap it shut behind me with a delighted giggle, leaving Eren back on
the other side. As it closes, I catch the very beginning of his roar of
frustration, and laugh my ass off as I turn to survey where I’ve ended up.
Portal magick is a nifty trick. Just one of many I enjoy now that I’ve
gotten my powers back.
On this side of a portal, a beautiful mountain waterfall cascades down
from a cliff-side high above into a crystal-clear pool. In the heat of the late
summer afternoon, the mist coming off the water feels divine.
The perfect place to end our hunt.
Stripping out of my clothes, I leave them in a heap at the side of the pool
for Eren to find, then wade in. The water is just cool enough to raise a wave
of goosebumps all along my bare skin, and anticipation sends a shiver down
my spine.
I hope my demon finds me soon.
Because no matter how these games start or where the portals lead us,
they always end the same way—me, knotted and claimed and thoroughly
fucked. My toes curl under the water just thinking about it.
We’re not actually trying to get me pregnant—not yet—and even though
I’ll still be taking my monthly contraceptive tea for a while as I continue to
get my bearings in this realm and settle in with Eren, I wouldn’t give up these
wicked games we play for anything. He loves to knot me, rut me, whisper
filthy things in my ear about filling me up and seeing me swell with his child,
and I won’t deny for a moment that the fantasy of it makes me hot as hell.
I’ve never felt so utterly, wonderfully possessed by another soul. Since
that night in the Veil, things have shifted in a way we haven’t fully wrapped
our arms around yet, but I do know one thing to be absolutely true.
Eren is my mate.
What that means for me as a human, we’re still trying to figure out. I’m
not sure I’ll ever experience the all-consuming nature of it like he does, but it
has come with some perks. I’ve gained portal magick, seem to be stronger
and faster than I was before, and I can somehow sense him, even when he’s
not nearby. The threads of the bond woven between us grow tighter each day,
and I can’t wait to see how they continue to deepen and evolve over a
lifetime.
And, of course, the biggest perk of all—having my demon bound to me,
body and soul, for the rest of our lives.
Those threads dance across my skin as a portal opens behind me, and I
make no attempt to flee when Eren appears with a mighty splash, crashing
into the water as he swoops over its surface and plucks me up in an iron-tight
grip. I shout and struggle as he flies forward through the pounding water,
soaking us both completely.
There’s a little stone cove on the other side of the falls, the perfect spot
to hide us away from the rest of the world.
He sets me down in the knee-high water and presses me up against the
stone wall, the thick line of his cock beneath his soaked trousers pushing into
the swell of my ass like a brand. Wrapping one hand around my throat and
keeping me pinned with his body, he works his other hand between us,
tearing at the laced top of his pants.
“You let me win, little witch,” Eren hisses into my ear. “I expect better
sport from my prey.”
“I think I’m the one who’s winning,” I say breathlessly as he frees
himself.
Just to make him squirm, I grind my ass against him, pushing back
against his erection in an unmistakable taunt and invitation. With two firm
hands on my hips, he spins me around and lifts me up against him, giving me
no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck,
clinging to him for support.
“Is that so?” he asks in a sensually cruel whisper just beneath my ear.
“You think I’d surrender so easily? Let you have just what you wanted?”
The scrape of fangs over the side of my throat and the feeling of his
cock notched at my damp, wanting pussy makes me moan and arch against
him.
“No,” I gasp.
A hand in my hair, jerking my head back. “No, what?”
“No, sir!” The second word comes out as a scream as he sinks his fangs
and cock into me with a single savage bite and thrust.
He keeps me there, helpless and impaled on him, while he drinks
deeply. Lips coated in red and turned up in a satisfied smirk, he releases me
with a wet lave over the wound and looks down at our joined bodies.
“I should make you take my knot as punishment for your disobedience,”
he snarls, forcing the swell of flesh even tighter to where I’m already
stretched wide around him.
“No!” I cry again in mock-protest, bucking and squirming and fighting
against him in deliberate provocation.
The struggle is almost as fun as seeing what it does to him. Another
vicious snarl, red eyes eclipsed almost entirely by black pupils, and another
hard pull on my hair lets me know exactly who he thinks is in charge as he
works his hips and makes me take every inch of him. The stretch borders on
pain, but he stills for a moment and lets me adjust, always taking care of me
despite our wicked games.
I move my hands to his horns, bring his face to my neck, and drop my
head back against the stone to bare my throat in a silent command I know
he’ll obey.
Eren chuckles, a darkly affectionate sound that skitters across my skin as
he lowers his mouth. “You win, witch. But only this one time.”
It’s the last coherent thing either of us says for a long, long time.
Later, when the afternoon sun is sinking toward the distant peaks and the
humid heat of the afternoon is still wrapped around us like a blanket, we dive
back into the pool beneath the falls, laughing and splashing and cooling off.
We’ve spent the last hour trading kisses and bites and orgasms, and every
inch of my skin is humming and flushed in delicious, sensual awareness.
The victor?
The jury’s still out on that, but I’m feeling pretty damn triumphant when
my sex-satisfied demon lays back in the pool and tugs me down on top of
him. He spreads his wings wide in the water to keep us both afloat, and I use
him like my own personal life raft, climbing up his body and settling myself
against him as a purr kicks up in his chest.
“We have to get back to the keep to get ourselves ready for tonight,” he
rumbles.
“We have time,” I tell him, leaning up to press a line of kisses over his
jaw and against his neck, pausing to let my teeth press down on his skin.
That rumble turns to a possessive growl as he hugs me tighter to him.
“For you, my mate? I have all the time in the world.”
It’s Tithe night again.
Only this time, the Goddess won’t choose. Her daughters will step
forward willingly, those who have decided to step into the demon realm of
their own free will. Never again will a witch be forced into a path not of her
choosing.
My spell made certain of that.
There, in the Veil’s ether, I wove the strands a little differently than the
first witch. In that wash of pure power, I called on the Goddess for help and
heard her answering affirmation.
Our magick will continue to balance the realms, but that burden and
responsibility won’t fall on the shoulders of a single witch.
And apparently my husband made quite an impression on the night of the
last Tithe and on the full moon, because tonight there are a dozen witches
who are eager to step through the Veil. Whether they’ll find their own demon
mates on the other side remains to be seen, but while they’re here, their
magick will help strengthen the ties that bind the realms together.
My mother watches the proceedings with an approving, if slightly
bemused, look on her face. She eyes Felix, who’s come to help escort
witches through the portal, with a bit of skepticism as he employs his rakish
charm on a few of the waiting women, but doesn’t make any move to
interfere. As the first few witches step through, our eyes meet, and she gives
me a tentative smile.
I return it. Things between us are… well, about the same as ever.
Whether that will change in time also remains to be seen, but for now I’m
alright with the path we’re forging forward in our relationship.
Turning from her, I look out over the rest of the clearing, gaze stopping
on one familiar face.
“I can’t tempt you to come through?” I ask Joan, wrapping her in a quick
hug.
She also looks Felix up and down for a moment like she’s seriously
considering it, but then shakes her head with a laugh.
“Maybe someday,” she says. “Right now, things are a little crazy here.”
“What do you mean?”
She glances over my shoulder. When I turn to see what she’s looking at,
my mother quickly glances away. Weird.
Joan gives me a smile that I can immediately tell is forced.
“What?” I ask again.
“If I say I can’t tell you right now, would you accept that?”
I open my mouth, but she interjects.
“Before you say no, I’m alright. I’m not in trouble or any danger, it’s
just… coven stuff.” She glances at my mother again, like she’s trying to make
sure we’re not overheard.
“Coven stuff?” I ask. “Since when are you involved in coven stuff?”
She lets out a sigh. “I promise I’ll tell you more when I can.”
I study her face for a moment before pulling her in for another hug. “You
better.”
When all the witches are through, Eren and I follow, and it doesn’t
escape me how much easier it feels to breathe being back in this realm. The
women have been portaled to their temporary lodgings, and we’re alone in
the forest, a million stars shining brightly above.
“Mmm,” I murmur. “It’s a nice night tonight.”
“It is,” Eren says, eying me suspiciously. “What of it?”
I take a step away from him, and then another.
“Nothing,” I say, all innocence. “Just observing. Might be a good night
for me to take a walk.”
Another step, eyes darting from side to side as I plan my route of
escape. The wave of pure, sexual magick from my demon through our bond
makes my heart speed up.
“Allison Amethyst Ashblood,” he says, voice dropping low. “How
many times must I teach you what happens to pretty witches when they run?”
A wicked, wicked pulse of my own arousal and delight draws a growl
from him.
“Once more,” I say, just before I run. “Always once more.”
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