Chapter 7
MALCOLM
I've lived for centuries, but I've never known peace like this.
Elysia straddles me, warm and real and mine, watching the forest come alive with daylight.
The shirt she's wearing—my shirt—has slipped off one shoulder, revealing smooth skin that I can't help but pepper with soft kisses.
She moans a sound of contentment, warming my heart as she leans into my chest.
A wiser man would be figuring out how to dispose of the bodies upstairs, how to cover our tracks, how to keep her safe from both Heaven and Hell.
Instead, I'm memorizing the way sunlight catches in her hair, the subtle iridescence of her healing wings and the way they’re changing color, the perfect weight of her in my arms.
"What are you thinking about?" she asks, turning to study my face.
"How much trouble I'm in." I trace the line of her collarbone with my finger, watching her shiver. "A demon warrior, brought low by one fallen angel."
"Brought low?" She raises an eyebrow. "I’ve never heard anyone say that."
"Completely defeated." I press another kiss to her shoulder. "Thoroughly conquered. Utterly vanquished."
She laughs, the sound brighter than anything I’ve witnessed. "You don't seem very vanquished to me."
"No?" I let my hands slide down her sides, feeling her breath catch. "Should I demonstrate my complete surrender?"
Shadow chooses that moment to demand attention, headbutting my arm with an imperious meow. Elysia giggles as I grunt in frustration. "Your cat has terrible timing."
"Our cat," she corrects, then freezes as if realizing what she's said.
The simple word—our—hits me like a physical blow. I've been alone for so long, content in my solitude, never having the desire to share my space or my life. Now I can't imagine my home without her in it, can't picture a future where she isn't by my side.
"Our cat," I agree, watching her eyes widen. "Our life. If... if that's what you want."
She leans back in my lap, still straddling me so she can look directly into my eyes. Her wings stretch slightly, catching the morning light. The new feathers growing in are stunning—deep blue-black like she was meant to be this way all along. Like she was meant to be mine all along.
I don’t rush her as she finishes her coffee, and then set her aside as I rise from the chair. I need to pack a few things before we head out.
She catches my hand as I step away. "Will they be able to track us?"
"Not if we're careful." I squeeze her fingers reassuringly.
"The house is warded against tracking magic, and I know ways through the forest that even other demons don't. We'll have to travel through the night. I’ll fly us some of the way to throw them off, but I won’t be able to carry both of us and what we bring with us for long distances. "
"And the bodies?"
I grimace, remembering the mess upstairs. "I'll take care of them. Demon bodies burn hot—there won't be anything left to find."
She nods, accepting this with the same quiet strength she's shown since falling. Another angel might have balked at the violence, the necessary darkness of what we are. But Elysia sees me—all of me—and chooses to stay anyway.
"I'll help you pack," she says, standing. My shirt falls to mid-thigh on her, and the sight challenges my self-control. "We should take only what we need, right?"
"Right." I force myself to focus on practical matters. "Warm clothes, medical supplies for your wings, food for Shadow—"
"The coffee machine?"
I laugh, pulling her close for another kiss. "I'll buy you a new one. The best one they make."
She hums against my lips, smiling sweetly. "My demon sugar daddy."
"Sugar—what?" I pull back, baffled by the term.
"Human phrase." Her eyes dance with mischief. "I've been watching their tv shows during the day while you work around the house. Very educational."
"Clearly I need to monitor your viewing habits more closely." But I'm grinning, helpless against her playfulness even in the midst of crisis.
We spend the hour preparing, packing essentials into bags that won't slow us down. I show her the secret compartments in the house where I keep emergency supplies, teaching her the passwords that unlock the wards. Just in case we get separated, though the thought makes my chest tight.
By the end of the hour, we're as ready as we'll ever be.
I've disposed of the bodies, cleaned away all evidence of the fight.
Elysia has packed food and medical supplies, plus a few small comfort items—photos of the forest, Shadow's favorite toy, a soft blanket she likes to wrap around herself in while reading.
"Are you scared?" Elysia asks quietly.
I consider lying, but she deserves honesty. "Terrified. Not of what they'll do to me, but..."
"Of what they might do to me." She traces one of my tattoos, sending little sparks of electricity through my skin.
"I'm scared too.” We stand in silence for a moment before she continues.
"When I was in Heaven, everything seemed so certain.
Good and evil, right and wrong, angels and demons.
Now..." She gestures at her darkening wings, at my glowing tattoos, at the domesticated predator dozing in her lap.
"Now I think maybe nothing is that simple. "
I catch her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "We'll figure it out together."
Outside, a wolf howls—a sound of wildness, of freedom, of belonging. Shadow chirps from Elysia’s arms, ready for whatever adventure comes next.
“Together,” Elysia repeats as she takes my hand. “Lead the way, demon.”