Chapter 23
Seren
Callum yanks me out of the arrow’s path about three milliseconds before it hits me.
A second later, he’s got a portal open, and just as we’re about to step through, he lets out a harsh grunt.
My heart drops.
“Armor,” he says as he tugs me into the swirling ether. “It hit my armor.”
Even through the armor, it must have hurt like hell. But there’s no time to check for damage or even breathe before we’re stepping through.
We’re spat out back at the Veil, but we’re not alone.
More fae rush out at us from the woods.
More awful, grotesque constructions of wood and leaves and vines and rot. Nightmares directly from the fae queen’s twisted court.
Callum slaps his hand on the stone arch, and the ether melts to deep crimson.
“Go!” he shouts, using his body as a shield even now, keeping me behind him while he puts himself at the mercy of the advancing fae.
I don’t listen to him.
I shove forward, hand on one of the biggest weapons I’ve got in my arsenal.
“Head down!” I shout back, and gratifyingly, he ducks.
The explosion clears every fae within a twenty-five yard radius.
They’re not dead. Well, at least I hope they’re not dead. But piles of groaning, injured fae litter the ground, momentarily stunned out of their advance and unable to do a damn thing as I grab Callum’s hand and pull him after me into the Veil.
I really, really hope none of those monsters can get up quickly enough to follow.
In the ether, the world dissolves into nothing. There’s just panic and chaos and magick and Callum. He pulls me closer, wraps an arm around me, and I’m engulfed by the scent of evergreen and woodsmoke and the leather of his armor.
I close my eyes.
Heart thundering in my ears, entire body thrumming with magick, I lean into him as we travel through the Goddess’ realm.
We stumble out the other side.
It’s nighttime here in the demon realm, and other than the pulsing of the Veil behind us and the faint light of the stars above, we’re cloaked in darkness.
There isn’t a single breath of wind, no one else around, and the silence of the woods is absolute.
After the chaos, the utter quiet rings in my ears. Louder, almost, than the pissed-off screeching of all those fae.
Like we’re both shell-shocked, heads still spinning too fast for our thoughts to catch up to reality, Callum and I just stand and stand and stand there, both of us silent, bodies stock-still.
Both our eyes are locked on the Veil. Callum’s got his sword in his hand, and my fingertips rest against the remaining spells I’ve got tucked away in my pockets, ready to deploy them at a moment’s notice.
The ether pulses once, twice, then settles back into its normal pearlescent sheen.
Unless the Goddess is in a really, really bad mood and wants to make us keep fighting for our lives against a horde of fae trying to kill us, it would seem we’re in the clear.
Now, if only I can make my body believe that.
Every muscle pulled taut, every nerve ending lit up. My blood races, and every inch of me is still poised right on the edge of control, waiting for a fight.
The fight never comes.
Second by second, the adrenaline ebbs.
It ebbs enough that I finally realize.
I’m still holding Callum’s hand.
Warm and large and calloused, his fingers are still wrapped tightly around mine.
I don’t let go.
Even though I should. Even though there’s no more danger and my mind is finally catching up to that fact.
But I don’t.
Instead, I squeeze.
Callum squeezes back.
That light, reassuring touch breaks the spell we’re under, and we both relax. Ready, at least for the moment, to believe we’re not about to die.
“You’re alright?”
I nod in response to Callum’s soft question, then remember.
Dread clawing its way up my throat, I finally let go of his hand. “Fuck. You were hit. Are you okay?” My hands skate over his armor, grabbing at his shoulders so I can turn him around and look at where he was—
“Fine,” he assures me. “I’m fine. It didn’t pierce my plating.”
“Yeah, but that was a hell of a hit.”
He shrugs. “I’ve taken worse.”
Well, now, I don’t like the sound of that very much. “If you say so.”
“I do.” The ghost of his smile reveals the tip of one fang.
“And the horde of fae? Have you seen worse than that, too?”
He strokes his beard in mock contemplation. “No. I can’t say I have. Was it worth it, though? You got what you were seeking in the cottage?”
“Yeah.” I pat my bag. “Yeah, I did.”
More seconds tick by, and it finally sinks in.
The clue to the heart.
We have the clue that’s going to lead us to the heart.
Who exactly the fuck the heart even is, I don’t know. But we’ve got our best chance of finding them, and we’re that much closer to a big, juicy payday.
I laugh.
Quietly, at first, then whooping and half-hysterical. I stumble a few steps ahead and rest one hand on a tree-trunk, doubling over at the waist.
“Seren?” Callum asks tentatively, in a tone which sounds like he’s not quite sure about my sanity right now.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.” I wave him off and brush at the tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.
Unhinged.
I’m certifiably unhinged right now.
There are too many emotions coursing through me, too much that’s happened in the last half-hour for me to be even remotely capable of processing it all.
But we’re alive.
We’re alive, and we’re here, and we just got one step closer to getting that damned treasure.
“Seren,” Callum tries again, stepping toward me.
I turn to face him, and all those emotions get even more tangled.
Goddess, he’s handsome.
And strong. And fierce. And the best partner I could have asked for back there.
And my mate.
He rests his hands on my shoulders. Maybe to steady me, maybe just so he can get a better look at me and make sure I’m not losing my mind completely.
Whatever the reason, it makes it easy for me to sway into him. It makes it easy to rest a hand in the center of his chest.
Light. Tentative. Experimental. Maybe just to see if he’ll push me away.
Maybe just because I want to.
And when he doesn’t push me away, when the fierce heartbeat beneath my fingers starts to pound and his mouth falls open on a silent inhale, when his pupils blow wide, I lean up and kiss him.
Callum freezes, and for one horrible moment I’m certain I’ve made a mistake.
Maybe I’ve read this all wrong. Maybe he’s already sick of me, already decided I’m more trouble than I’m worth, that he’d prefer I wasn’t his mate at—
Callum growls, slants his lips across mine, moves his hands to my waist, and crushes me against him. Something snakes around the backs of my thighs, pulling me even closer, and it takes me a moment to realize.
That damned tail again.
Heat pools low in my belly, and I part my lips, swipe my tongue against the seam of his. He groans and opens for me, and the slight bite of pain when the tip of my tongue brushes against his fang stokes that heat even higher.
I didn’t really think about all the logistics of this, of kissing a demon. I didn’t let myself imagine all the ways it would be different from locking lips with a human man.
Maybe if I had, I would have done it sooner.
Because his fangs, his tail, the heavy press of his wings as he sweeps them forward and envelops me within them, all of it really… does something for me.
Something hungry, feral, unhinged. Something that makes me bury my hands in the shaggy dark hair that’s come loose around his face, fingertips brushing against the curve of his horns, and pull him to me.
It makes me want to devour him.
Between us, magick springs to life. Warm and buzzing and alive, it crests, pulls taut, demands to be seen.
His beard scratches against me, and the tips of his claws prick me through my clothes, but his mouth is soft and warm, and the contrast of it makes me groan into the kiss. I press myself into him, step closer, legs parting around one of his thick thighs, covered in more of that leather plating.
Against the fitted trousers I’m wearing, the feeling is incredible.
He plunges his tongue into my mouth, presses his thigh between mine.
His hands cup my ass and encourage me, pulling me more firmly against him.
I’m so damn wound up, so damp and hot and aching, that it would only take a little more friction to—
Fuck.
I pull back, panting.
Fuck.
What the hell?
What the actual hell am I doing?
Face flaming, I drop my head against the broad plane of his chest and try to catch my breath.
“Seren,” Callum gasps. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No.” My voice is hoarse, breathless, unrecognizable. “Don’t apologize. I was just getting a little ahead of… I didn’t mean to…”
Fuck.
One kiss from this demon and I’m done for. Completely out of my mind. Ready to drag him down onto the forest floor and have my way with him.
All this mate stuff is pretty freaking potent.
But…
As I finally make myself meet his burning, adorably concerned crimson gaze, I can’t believe that’s all it was.
And even if I don’t know what it was, I’m not ready to chalk it all up to the Goddess’ meddling.
“We were just going a little fast,” I say, then reconsider. “I was going a little fast. I didn’t think it would be… I never expected…”
Callum cups my chin and runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “What didn’t you expect?”
“I didn’t know it would be that good. And I want to do it again.”
“My star,” he murmurs, big hands threading into my hair, tilting my head back. “Always a surprise, aren’t you?”
Before I can answer—not that I even know how I would answer that—he lowers his lips back to mine.
This kiss is different.
Slower. More deliberate. Less fevered frenzy and more careful claiming.
Callum takes his time exploring me.
With thorough, languid strokes of his tongue into my mouth. With drags of his fangs against my lips. With hands that move from my hair to my neck, squeezing lightly in a hold so gently possessive it threatens to ignite that heat in my core again.
My hands stroke up his sides over his armor, seeking, exploring, reaching around to his back, learning every hard plane of his body and—
Callum sucks in a sharp breath. I freeze.
Shit.
The arrow.
Apparently he’s not as alright as he claimed he was.
“Callum,” I admonish, and it comes out a little more breathlessly than I intended.
Instead of being properly scolded for lying about his injury, a satisfied rumble breaks in Callum’s chest.
“Goddess, I like it.”
“Like what?”
“When you say my name.” He leans down and brushes his lips against mine once, twice, nearly distracting me into forgetting.
I place both my hands on his chest and put some distance between us.
“I don’t care how much you like it, you’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” He opens his mouth to speak, and I raise a hand. He takes it, brings it to his lips and kisses that, too.
My stomach turns warm and swimmy, but at least he’s not arguing anymore. I shake off his grasp and make myself focus.
“We’re going to the human realm.”
He arches a brow. “Why?”
“Because I’ve got a good feeling the heart is actually a human. And I’ve also got something that will help what I’m sure is a pretty spectacular bruise under your armor.”
He sighs, like I’m making a big deal out of nothing, but softens it when the corners of his lips quirk up again.
“Alright.” He takes my hand. “We’ll go to the human realm.”
It’s… nice. Holding his hand.
Especially nice now that we don’t have the threat of mortal injury hanging over our heads, making us do things we wouldn’t otherwise do.
When I give his hand a squeeze, he returns it. And when I lead him toward the Veil, he follows, the two of us off to wherever this hunt will take us next.