39. Diablos
Chapter thirty-nine
Diablos
The intrusive thoughts from earlier finally eased when I saw that Dagon was awake and well.
I told him almost everything.
About the bathroom floor. About the scalpel image.
About biting my fist so I wouldn't scream.
About Bren's call breaking through. I left out two things.
The first was the specific intrusive thought about the arrow killing him in his sleep — I couldn't say it out loud.
The shame of having my brain find him as a target, even in fantasy, was still too sharp.
The second was how long I had spent staring at the tattoo on my hand and thinking what if, what if, what if.
Dagon didn't push.
He let me give him what I could give him.
Then he pulled my hand, the one with the arrow to his mouth, and kissed the ink.
Slowly. Reverently. Like he was consecrating it.
Like he was telling the mark I'm not afraid of you, and I won't let him be afraid of you either.
I sobbed once into his shoulder and he held me through it without saying a word.
Some things don't need words. Some things just need the right lips in the right place.
I spoke with him about the panic attack I had and the intrusive thoughts that it was all my fault.
It was a difficult conversation, and Dagon seemed like he was in physical pain, but he reassured me that it wasn't my fault.
Our conversation was long, and we bared our hearts to one another. It was exactly what I needed.
We spent the whole day catching up on sleep. Dagon no longer felt cold and the wound on his back healed, but left a scar.
A scar that shouldn't have been there. Demons healed cleanly unless the blade was enchanted, and an enchanted blade was the same kind that had given Dagon the original marks on his back fifteen years ago.
The same kind. Maybe even the same make.
He had felt the recognition in his body during the fight, he told me. The pain knew its own family.
But the demon who had wielded it wasn't the one who had killed his brother.
Dagon was sure of that. He remembered the face from that night.
He had been thirteen and his world had been ending, and he had still memorized the face.
The white-haired Starborn wasn't him. I hated that it reminded him of the day his brother died and that maybe someone as powerful as this demon had killed his brother.
Which meant: someone else used the same kind of blade. Someone above the white-haired one. Or someone who taught him. Or someone who made the blades and distributed them.
We had a thread to pull. We just didn't know where it led. And when we would be able to find answers.
It was already nighttime when we finally got out of bed. I was feeling jittery, so after dinner, I suggested we go out for a walk.
The woods surrounding the house property calmed my anxiety. Thick, beautiful trees were all around us. Running my palm along their trunks, I smiled. The surface was rough, but the trees brimmed with life, grounding me in the present, steadying me instead of letting me drift.
Stars and the moon illuminated our path, bathing everything in breathtaking beauty. I felt free. It had been a long time since I'd felt like this.
We survived. Both of us were here. The bow and arrow were now engraved on my wrist like a tattoo. I felt their power pulsing through me, and I knew one thought was all it would take to summon them.
I probably should have freaked out, but I didn't. Not after the kiss Dagon had pressed against the ink that morning.
Not after he had looked at the mark like it was beautiful instead of dangerous.
The fear that had ridden me on the bathroom floor was still there, somewhere – OCD didn't leave, it just got quieter when there was room for other things – but tonight there was room for other things. Things felt exactly as they should be.
I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but we had today, we had each other. That was all we needed. Tonight, I wanted to focus solely on us, not on my worries or the future. Tonight was ours.
As we walked through the woods, the peaceful sound of a nearby river filled the air. Dagon squeezed my hand, and I turned toward him, feeling a pang in my chest when I saw his eyes swimming with purple warmth. They were full of love and gentleness.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“I’m just enjoying the moment, the woods, the sound of the river, and you. I feel happy and free.”
“Free?” He tilted his head, looking adorably confused.
“Yeah, free.” Sighing, I looked up at the starry sky and tried to explain. “I always felt like something invisible held me back, like chains. I always hid my true feelings, but with you, I don't need to. I often felt like an impostor in my own life."
“How do you feel now?”
Stopping, I faced him fully. Staring into his eyes, my world, I said, "Like myself, without judgment or shame. I feel your love. I know I'm not alone anymore."
His smile made my heart skip. His smiles were precious, and I vowed to make him smile every day of our lives.
"You'll never be alone again," he whispered. "I'm proud of you, my love."
He kissed my forehead, pulling me close. We stood embracing each other, relishing our connection.
Sometimes, guilt crept in about not sharing everything sooner with our family.
But now, I realized it had always been my choice, my timeline.
I needed time, and so I gave it to myself.
Now, I could look back and appreciate myself, my efforts, and the misplaced fear of rejection, which didn’t make it any less real.
The fear of rejection and my family changing how they saw me was still present.
The difference was that I loved myself a bit more and was ready to open to the ones I loved.
Dagon wrapped his hands around my neck and sealed our lips in a searing kiss. When he pulled away too quickly, I needed more. Crushing our mouths together, I pushed him gently against a nearby tree. He yielded willingly, moaning softly as our bodies pressed tightly together.
Our kisses deepened, tongues exploring, breaths mingling. Slowly, I moved to his neck, biting lightly at first, then harder, leaving a mark that made him shiver.
I wanted to mark him completely. Possessiveness surged within me. Ever since seeing him hurt, I felt fiercely protective. No one was getting their hands on my Dagon ever again.
I traced my tongue along the mark, savoring him.
"Fuck, Di," he groaned. "If you keep doing this, I won't be able to hold back my real form."
"Then don't," I said firmly.
He didn't ask twice.
The shift happened under my mouth. I felt it first as heat, his skin rising several degrees against my lips, the kind of heat that meant fire in the blood and demon at the surface.
Then I felt the rasp of horns curling up past his temples, brushing against the side of my face.
Then the sound of his wings unfurling behind him, the change in the air and the strange whisper of feathers settling.
The space around us got smaller because his wings were spreading and pulling me in at the same time.
I pulled back to look at him.
Dagon in his demon form, pressed against a tree, his eyes purple-black and blown wide.
Horns gleaming under moonlight. Wings half-spread behind him, throwing shadow across the bark.
The bite mark I had just made on his neck darkening into something purpler than a regular bruise.
The most dangerous thing in these woods. Mine.
"Hell," I breathed, "you're so fucking beautiful like this."
"Then come and take me," he said softly, "the way you want me. The way you've wanted me since you stopped pretending."
My cock was so hard it hurt.
He crushed our bodies together, our kisses deepening. Desire burned through me, overwhelming and consuming.
With effort, I pulled back, looking seriously into his heated eyes.
“I’ve made my decision.”
"What decision?"
“I want to complete our mate bond.” He froze, stunned, breathing heavily, eyes darkening intensely. "Would you want to complete the mate bond with me?"
"Yes," he rasped. "I need this more than anything. Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. I want to be connected to you completely. Claim me, my demon. Make me yours in every way."
Our next kiss was a promise, a new beginning. Clothes vanished quickly, hands exploring heated skin.
"I want us here, now. Is that okay?"
"Yes," he said, hurriedly removing my jeans. "It's simple. We say words in the demon language, I'll walk you through it, and then we drink from each other's blood. I must be in my true form."
"Then let's do it. I want to spend and eternity with you. One lifetime will never be enough."
"We'll have eternity," he promised.
He spoke first, his language seductive. A tingling spread through me, connecting us. Slowly, I repeated after him, feeling our souls weave into one.
When I was done with my part, Dagon said something else, and I repeated it after him. An invisible force hit my heart, not in a painful way, no. It was like something crashed into me and filled every part of me with love and light. It was all-consuming, warm, and precious.
Judging by the awe-struck look on Dagon’s face, he felt it too.
He smiled and looked at my neck. I stepped closer, and he gently wrapped his hands around me. His wings enveloped us in a cocoon of safety. We kissed and the thread I felt earlier gave a tug. It flamed with power, and I basked in the connection.