A Heart Disguised 1 (The Demon Lords of Aethoria)

20. Robin

I blinked awake to find the sun playing truant high in the sky, its golden rays boldly invading the master chamber. My body was a delicious symphony of aches, each note a reminder of the duke’s… thorough dedication to our wedding night. I’d lost count of how many times he’d claimed me, how often his clever mouth and skilled hands had coaxed pleasure from my trembling flesh. The last memory I had before succumbing to exhaustion was of him still buried deep inside me, his mouth tormenting my oversensitive nipples as dawn’s first light crept across the horizon.

Sitting up amid the thoroughly debauched silk sheets, I took careful inventory of my various… souvenirs from our nocturnal activities. My backside, in particular, offered pointed commentary about the duke’s legendary stamina. With a knowing smirk, I channeled my healing magic through my body, watching as the tender aches melted away. How ironically perfect that my gift, meant for tending herbs and healing the sick, would prove so useful in keeping pace with an insatiable demon lord.

The massive bed was conspicuously empty beside me, its other occupant no doubt already buried in his ducal duties. No rest for the wicked, as they say, though after last night’s performance, I had to wonder where he found the energy.

I made my way to the bathroom on slightly unsteady legs, trying not to blush at the evidence of our passion that marked various surfaces throughout the chamber. The sofa would never be the same; the armchair had witnessed things that would make a courtesan blush, and that poor rug by the hearth… Well, at least we’d spared the balcony. The thought of being taken against the stone railing, exposed to the night air and possibly prying eyes, sent an unexpected heat coursing through me—one I quickly buried under a mountain of propriety.

The hot spring pool beckoned like a lover’s embrace, and I sank into its welcoming depths with a grateful sigh. Steam rose around me as I let the heat seep into my muscles, washing away the sticky remnants of our enthusiasm. As I soaked, memories of the night drifted through my mind like autumn leaves—the way he’d growled my name, how his eyes had glowed molten gold in the firelight, the feeling of those wicked fangs grazing my throat…

When the water began to cool, I reluctantly emerged, wrapping myself in a plush robe that felt sinfully soft against my sensitized skin. My stomach chose that moment to voice its complaints rather loudly—apparently multiple rounds of passionate lovemaking could work up quite an appetite.

I was contemplating whether to ring for a servant when the chamber door swung open, revealing none other than the duke himself. He filled the doorway with his imposing presence, looking as immaculate and composed as ever, while behind him trailed servants bearing trays laden with what appeared to be enough food to feed a small army.

They arranged the feast on the table near the hearth—thank all the gods we hadn’t defiled that particular piece of furniture —and I fought to keep my expression neutral as memories of exactly what we had defiled flashed through my mind.

The duke caught my eye, a knowing smirk playing upon his lips. “Hungry, my dear?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that made my breath catch in my throat.

“Starving, in fact,” I replied, watching the servants make their final arrangements. “Though I suppose a night of thorough ravishment does tend to work up quite an appetite.”

The servants scattered like autumn leaves in a sudden wind, their hasty departure suggesting they’d heard far too much already. Before I could reach for any of the tempting morsels laid out before us, strong arms swept me up with alarming ease. A most undignified squeal escaped my lips as I found myself suddenly airborne, clutching at the duke’s broad shoulders.

“Then let us see to your afternoon feast properly,” he rumbled, his voice a pleasant vibration against my chest as he carried me to the sitting area. “We can’t have my bride wasting away after just one night of… rigorous activity.”

The world tilted briefly before I was deposited in his lap, my back pressed against his chest, his heat seeping through the thin fabric of my robe.

I reached for a piece of fruit, trying to ignore the way his proximity made my pulse quicken. “Already finished terrorizing your court for the day, Your Grace?” I asked, aiming for lightness despite our rather intimate position.

“A duke’s duties never cease,” he replied, his hands settling on my waist with possessive intent. “However, I find myself contemplating a brief… sabbatical from striking fear into the hearts of my subjects.”

“Oh?” I tilted my head, genuinely curious now. “And what sort of mischief does my demon lord have in mind?”

“I thought perhaps we might visit Shadowmere,” he said, and I felt my heart skip a beat. “My ancestral home in the demon realm. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to continue scandalizing the servants here?”

The piece of fruit halfway to my mouth froze in midair. Shadowmere. The very name filled me with equal parts excitement and trepidation. I would be the only human there, a delicate flower in a garden of thorns.

“For how long would you plan to corrupt me in your ancestral halls?” I managed to ask, proud that my voice remained steady.

“Four weeks, give or take,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. “Plenty of time for me to thoroughly… educate you in demonic customs.” The wicked promise in his voice made me blush to my roots.

“And Lunaria?” I asked, grasping at practical matters to distract myself from the way his fingers had begun tracing sinful patterns on my thigh. “Can your duchy survive without its fearsome master for so long?”

He chuckled, the sound rich and deep. “My lieutenant is more than capable of maintaining order in my absence. Besides…” He tapped a curious device at his belt. “These magical communicators ensure I can spread terror across realms with but a word.”

I nodded, taking a sip of tea to hide my nervousness about visiting his homeland. It was then I realized my robe had fallen open, revealing far more skin than proper afternoon attire allowed. More alarming still were the duke’s wandering hands, which had found their way to my chest with devilish precision.

“Surely even demon lords require more sustenance than merely devouring their wives?” I quipped, my voice embarrassingly breathy as his fingers teased my nipples.

“I’ve already had my midday repast,” he purred, and the hunger in his voice had nothing to do with food. “Now I find myself craving something far sweeter… and significantly more squirmy.”

“You’ll have to practice patience until tonight,” I protested weakly, even as my body arched into his touch. “I’m still quite tender from your thorough… attentions.” It was a blatant lie—my healing magic had taken care of that—but something about making him wait, building the anticipation, sent a thrill through me.

His low laugh told me he saw right through my deception. “Are you now?” His fangs grazed my neck in a way that made me shiver. “How fascinating that my little bride’s healing magic seems to work on everything except convenient excuses.”

I felt my cheeks flame even as excitement pooled in my belly. “I… that is… one must maintain some mysteries in marriage…”

“Enjoy your feast, my devious little Robin,” he murmured against my skin. “You’ll need your strength for all the mysteries I plan to unravel later.”

A s I stood before the mirror, the reflection that greeted me was one of fairy tales and whispered dreams. The gown Meredith had chosen for today was a confection of pastel pink, the fabric cascading around me like a blush of dawn. It was a masterpiece of silk and lace, the bodice fitted to my form before flaring out into a skirt that rippled with every movement. My hair was swept up in an intricate half updo, the rest flowing down my back in soft waves. My face, artfully made up, bore the soft glow of an ethereal being. I looked… well, rather like a celestial creature who’d raided a noblewoman’s wardrobe.

I caught Meredith’s eye in the reflection, her hands fluttering around me like nervous butterflies as she adjusted the fall of the skirt. “Oh, Lady Robin, the citizens will be besotted with their new duchess. You’re the very picture of grace and beauty,” she gushed, her voice thick with pride.

“Yes, I’m sure they’ll be thoroughly enchanted by their demon lord’s bride floating down the streets on a cloud of sparkles and dreams,” I muttered under my breath, though my lips twitched with amusement.

The people of Lunaria wished to see their new duchess, and I would not deny them. After all, appearances must be kept, especially when your husband is the fearsome Duke of Shadowmere—though fearsome seemed a bit rich after seeing him coo at Fluffy this morning.

By the hearth, Russet and Fluffy had claimed their usual spots, an unlikely pair of companions who’d become inseparable. They wore the long-suffering expressions of courtiers forced to endure yet another royal fitting, though I caught Fluffy’s ember eyes gleaming with what looked suspiciously like amusement. On the balcony, Starling danced through shafts of sunlight, her iridescent feathers catching the morning light. Together, these creatures had transformed the demon lord’s fearsome lair into something remarkably like home.

The door opened then, and Duke Darius entered, his presence filling the room as surely as the sun commands the sky. His gaze swept over me, and I felt the heat of it like a physical touch. He crossed the room in long, purposeful strides, his hand reaching out to cradle my face, his lips pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

“Divine,” he murmured, his eyes drinking me in with an intensity that made my cheeks flush a shade darker than my gown.

“Divinely exhausted, perhaps,” I quipped softly, though the familiar pull in my lower belly betrayed my body’s eager response to his presence.

Every night since our wedding had been a symphony of passion, a dance of bodies that left us both sated and spent. He was insatiable, a demon of boundless energy and desire, while I… well, I was only human. Yet somehow, I kept pace with him, fueled by a mixture of curiosity and the sheer thrill of being wanted so completely. Though I had to wonder if demon lords came with an internal source of endless stamina, or if that was just my particular husband’s special talent.

Thanks to the ministrations of Madame Elodie’s team, the dark circles that threatened to betray my nocturnal activities were expertly concealed, lending me an air of serene beauty that was entirely at odds with the delightful exhaustion that clung to my bones. I made a mental note to send her an extra token of appreciation—perhaps a charm against gossip, given how much she must have guessed about our nighttime activities.

“You look rather pleased with yourself, Your Grace,” I teased, my voice steady even as my heart raced under his scrutiny. “Planning to show off your latest acquisition to the adoring masses?”

His lips quirked in a knowing smile, eyes dancing with mischief. “I find myself quite enamored with the idea of showing you off to the people of Lunaria,” he admitted, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw with a gentleness that belied his formidable appearance. “Though acquisition seems rather tame for what you are to me.”

“Oh? And what would you call it then?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. “A mutual surrender to madness?”

“The most exquisite kind of madness,” he agreed, his voice dropping to that low register that never failed to make my knees weak.

My pulse fluttered at the thought of being the focus of such attention, but I forced myself to meet his gaze with a steady one of my own. “Then let us not keep your adoring public waiting,” I said, offering him my arm with a flourish. “After all, they’ve yet to lay eyes on the demon lord’s thoroughly besotted bride. Though do try to remember I’m supposed to be presenting an image of ducal dignity—that means no inappropriate touches in public, my insatiable lord.”

His answering laugh echoed through the chamber, rich and warm as honey, filling every corner with its resonance. “I make no promises, my sharp-tongued duchess,” he purred, gold eyes dancing with mischief. “After all, what’s the point of having a divine bride if I can’t worship her properly?”

Even Russet seemed to roll his eyes at that one, while Fluffy let out what sounded suspiciously like a snort. I suppose even the lord of darkness needs comedic relief in his fearsome court, and it would seem my menagerie was determined to provide just that, whether he wished it or not.

The journey from chamber to courtyard was a parade in itself, with servants bowing and scurrying like autumn leaves caught in a particularly respectful windstorm. Outside, the late morning sun painted everything in hues of gold and promise, catching on the magnificent carriage that awaited us. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, all gleaming wood and scrolling silver filigree, with velvet cushions in deep midnight blue that somehow managed to look both intimidating and inviting—much like its owner.

Darius guided me forward with that effortless grace of his, his hand at the small of my back awakening butterflies in my stomach that had nothing to do with the morning air. Russet and Fluffy bounded in after us, claiming their spots with an air that suggested they’d been riding in royal carriages all their lives. Starling, ever the proper lady, maintained her dignity on my shoulder.

As Duke Darius settled beside me, drawing me close against his side, I wrapped my arms around his neck—partly for stability, partly because I simply couldn’t resist. “And how long must I play the part of the blushing bride for your adoring public?” I asked, attempting to sound dignified despite being practically in his lap. “Or should I prepare myself for an entire day of being displayed like your most precious jewel?”

“Until every citizen of Lunaria has properly swooned over their new duchess,” he murmured, his voice a velvet caress against my ear. “Though I must say, watching you attempt to maintain your composure while being worshipped might be the most entertaining part of my day. And watching you squirm so delightfully might tempt me to take the scenic route.”

“More entertaining than terrorizing your court?” I quipped, trying to ignore how his proximity affected me. “My, how your standards have fallen, Your Grace.”

His low chuckle sent warmth coursing through me. “I wouldn’t say fallen, my dear. Simply… evolved to include the delightful sight of my bride pretending she doesn’t enjoy every moment of this.”

The carriage lurched into motion, and we began our procession through Argentum Keep’s main gates. The streets of Lunaria had transformed overnight into a festival of color and sound. Garlands of silver and blue flowers draped from every window, their sweet perfume mixing with the crisp morning air. Ribbons danced in the breeze like playful spirits, and the cobblestones themselves seemed to shine with extra polish.

The crowds pressed close on either side, a sea of eager faces and reaching hands. Their whispered words floated up to us like prayers or poetry. “What a beautiful young bride,” someone cooed, while another voice added, “Can you believe the fearsome duke married a human?” I caught fragments of other conversations—speculation about my origins, wonder at my appearance, and more than a few appreciative comments about how well we looked together.

“Smile and wave, my dear,” Darius prompted, his chest rumbling with barely suppressed laughter. “Show them that their demon lord has excellent taste in brides.”

I obliged, though not without shooting him a look that promised retribution later. To my surprise, I found myself enjoying the spectacle. I tossed kisses to the crowd, delighting in their excited squeals. Russet’s joyful barking provided percussion to the symphony of cheers, while Fluffy wagged his tail with such enthusiasm I feared he might achieve flight.

Then Duke Darius, ever the dramatist, pulled me onto his lap with fluid grace. “We must give them something to really talk about,” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. “Let them see their fearsome demon duke thoroughly tamed by his enchanting human wife.”

“Just a peck,” I insisted, even as my body betrayed me by melting against his chest. “I’d rather not give the entire city a demonstration of just how easily your touch affects me, Your Grace.”

His answering smile held all the wickedness of his demonic heritage. “As my duchess commands,” he purred, before capturing my lips in a kiss that was anything but a peck. It was fire and starlight, passion and tenderness, a declaration of possession that had the crowds erupting in delighted chaos. My hands found their way into his hair of their own accord, and I lost myself in the heat of his mouth, the strength of his arms, the perfect rightness of this moment.

When we finally parted, I could barely catch my breath. “Besotted indeed,” I whispered accusingly, though the effect was somewhat ruined by my dazed expression. “You did that on purpose.”

“Guilty as charged,” he murmured against my lips. “Though I don’t hear you complaining, my sharp-tongued bride.”

As our carriage rolled onward through the celebrating streets of Lunaria, I wondered what new adventures awaited us in Shadowmere. In just a few days, we would journey to his demon realm estate for our honeymoon, and my mind buzzed with equal parts excitement and trepidation. What mysteries lurked in those shadowed halls?

What creatures prowled those otherworldly gardens? Would I, perhaps the only human in all of Shadowmere, be seen as prey among so many demons?

Yet when I caught his eye again, saw the tender possessiveness in his golden gaze, I knew that wherever we went—be it the highest tower of Argentum Keep or the darkest corner of Shadowmere—I would be safe as long as I was by his side.

After all, what else could life be when you’re married to a demon duke who kisses like sin and looks at you as if you’ve hung the stars?