So, I now find myself in the position of Demon Lord and proud owner of a personal aquarium and rehabilitation center for sea creatures.
She soothes them both with quiet whispers. Her hair is mussed, her cheeks flushed, and her body is still trembling from what she endured.
Yet she meets my gaze when I enter, and the bond between us thrums so bright I feel it in my bones.
My viyella. My heart. My future.
For too long, I believed my greatest duty was to Nightfall. To the Tidal Lands, to the laws my father carved into stone, to make up for my past sins, to the weight of a crown I never asked for but could not refuse.
I thought love was something I would never find.
And women? Just a distraction.
I thought mates were luxuries or fiction.
But when I saw her on that floor, wand-light flashing off a knife aimed at her throat, something inside me broke—and something greater rose to take its place.
Phoebe is not my distraction.
She is not my weakness.
She is the axis my world spins upon.
I cross the chamber to her, dropping to one knee at her side.
The pups blink at me warily, then huff and settle back into her lap as if they too know she is safest with me.
I take her hands in mine, kiss her knuckles one by one.
She smells of citrus and sea-salt and stubborn courage.
“I will not fail you again,” I whisper, too low for any but her to hear. “Not by silence. Not by pride. Not by duty twisted into chains. From this day, Phoebe, my duty is you. First and always. Even before Nightfall. Even before crown and throne.”
“Fail me? What are you talking about? The day you took me, you saved me. And you’ve been saving me ever since.”
Her eyes soften, luminous as the tide at dawn.
She leans forward, presses her forehead to mine, and through the bond her love floods me like the sea.
“Agree to disagree then, my viyella. You’re the one who keeps saving me with your love, your bravery, your sweet, unstoppable light. I love you.”
“Kael,” she whimpers, and the pups slide into the water as she spins and wraps her arms around me.
I lift her in my arms, using magic to whisk us to our chambers, where I shed our clothes and clean our skin, knowing full well I am one lucky Demon Lord as I lower my viyella to our bed.
The weight I have carried for centuries—of guilt, of grief, of failure—finally sinks away.
Not because I cast it off, but because she shares it now.
Because she is mine, and I am hers, and that is the only truth that matters.
Let Idris plot. Let the Fates delay. Let the world drown if it must.
So long as I have Phoebe safe in my arms, I will weather it all.
And not even the gods can help the one who dares try to take her from me again.
“Stay here with me,” she says, cupping my cheeks, and I nod as I bend my head to hers.
