Still, the weight of knowing I could be her freedom from Tali has been eating at me for the past two days. Xera and I have mostly been sitting in this hotel room, wrapped in silence. This is the longest we’ve gone without touching when we’re alone together.
I know her love language is physical touch—whether it’s from sex or just having her hands on me. For her not to seek that out is a clear sign she’s losing herself.
Tomorrow, we’re meeting up with the group to finalize our plan, and as dangerous as it is, she’s ready—no,weare ready. Xera and I haven’t had the chance to fight alongside each other yet, and I’m eager to help her get the revenge she deserves.
This room has an artificial fireplace, but she sits in front of it as if the flames will warm her. The blanket from the bed is wrapped around her shoulders, and her knees are drawn up to her chest. She refused to eat dinner, and I’m not going to force her. Doing so will only end in a fight—no, not a fight, not even an argument. We don’t do that. As much as we go at each other’s throats, I wouldn’t classify it as such. That’s just who we are: two hard-headed individuals.
One of us is definitely more so than the other, but I’m not here to point my fingers anywhere other than inside her.
I’d just showered, only putting on my boxers. Without hesitation, I move toward her, pulling the blanket from over her and settling behindher, wrapping it around both of us. I pull her naked form up against my chest and she releases a heavy sigh, like she’d been screaming for this the entire time.
Her long, black hair is caught between us, and I want nothing more than to feel her skin on mine. So, I drag it over her shoulder and tug her bare back to my front, wrapping my arms around her collarbones.
We sit for a moment in silence, my chin resting against her shoulder, her head leaning into mine.
It’s my little demon who breaks the silence first.
“What kind of ring would you buy me?”
I hum. “Black diamond.” Bringing my hand down her arm, I take hers, lifting it up and turning her knuckles to face me. “Hexagon shape, maybe a silver band. Simple, because you’re complex enough.”
A soft laugh escapes her as she spreads her fingers, allowing me to slip mine between them. She doesn’t simply hold my hand; instead, she keeps shifting her grip, exploring the way we connect from different angles.
“And it’s awillget you, little demon.”
There’s no part of me that doubts the outcome will be anything but the two of us together. I haven’t had enough time with her, and I refuse to settle for anything less.
“It sounds beautiful.”
“Just like you, my love.” I wrap my arm tighter around her, and brush my nose against her neck. “Beach wedding, with our princess and Mister.”
“Brice can come,” she murmurs. “Niyla too.”
“Mhmm. Whatever you want.”
“In a few years…” I can hear the point of no return in her tone. “Let’s make sure we don’t want to kill each other after a… few months…”
Snaking my hand up her chest right to her cheek, I turn her head to face me. She brings her free hand that isn’t laced with mine to the back of my neck and pulls me down, our mouths meeting before I can say anything.
This kiss isn’t rushed or ravenous. It’s passionate, full of need for comfort and protection. It’s all she’s ever wanted, and I know she deserves the safety and love that was stripped from her.
The pull on my lifeforce is sudden—different this time. It’s like a part of me, my very soul, is reaching out to enfold her Amoro in an embrace. It’s begging to be kept safe, pleading not to be pulled back into the abyss of abuse and pain.
All I want is to save her, to protect what is mine from being taken.
“Xera,” I breathe against her lips.
A cracked sob escapes her as she spins around in my lap, wrappingher arms around my neck. Her fingers lace through my hair as she continues to kiss me—slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second. As if she’s trying to map my feel, my taste; like this could be the last time she has me.
Our hips meet and she tosses back the blanket, one of my hands drawing up her spine and grabbing the back of her neck. Her legs move around me and I slowly put her onto her back, sandwiching her to the floor.
Even though she turns her head to deepen the kiss, there’s no invasion of her tongue, and I can sense what she is asking without words.
This isn’t our type of love. We aren’t gentle, we’re chaotic. If our world was defined by heroes and villains, we would be the latter. No statue would be erected in our deaths, only celebration. That is our touch on this world: death, fear, and destruction.
However, right here, she wants me to be soft with her. To take her back to the time she wasn’t a demon that could regrow her very own heart.
I’d give her everything without question, as long as it is only me that she’ll allow it from.
