Chapter 16
“What in frenzied Hellsfire were you thinking?”
Neyu needn’t have told Saer about her comings and goings the night prior while he planned and plotted in his hut.
Unfortunately for Saer, she seemed to enjoy provoking him, especially after his dismissal of her. Neyu shared every detail, second for second of her and Ahraan—conversing as they walked through the village, seen together by many. Bitterness and betrayal washed over him.
“He refers to us as cousins, did you know?”
He curled his lip, refusing to be needled. “Where is Kalia?”
“Asleep still.”
Saer made a disapproving noise. “Asleep. There’s enough heat in this desert sun to avoid sleep for days if not weeks.”
“You could do with a little more rest. We all could.” Neyu lowered herself to the edge of Saer’s bed and laid back, stretching out with a quiet groan.
She had to know the effect it would have. Saer fought to ignore it, but only found himself staring harder. This damnable, irresistible—
“I know him.”
His traitorous thoughts screeched to a halt. “What?”
Neyu blinked her eyes open and met Saer’s gaze with a shrewd one of her own. “Ahraan. We’ve known one another since before this village.”
The implication of her words, the thought of another man with her drove him to the breaking point. “So help me—”
Neyu sat and put her palm against Saer’s chest. He hadn’t even realized he’d approached her. The touch burned through him, and while she didn’t use her strength, he stopped nonetheless. Eyes locked, Lust shook her head, her voice quiet. “That’s enough. It’s time to think clearly again.”
Snarling, Saer pulled away from her, raking a hand through his hair. “Then for the sake of the Hells, tone it down!”
Neyu’s expression sobered. “I don’t want to play games anymore.”
“This coming from the Queen of Want.”
“Don’t be unbearable when I’m trying like you asked.”
With his head tilted back, Saer tightened his hold on the hairs at the back of his neck, hoping the minor pain might help him find the words he needed.
“It’s difficult to be around you again,” he confessed, the words quiet and damning.
“I can’t help what I am,” Neyu said.
“You know that’s not the issue.”
“Saer.” The demoness stood and walked towards him. Saer took a step back but she whispered, “Shh, don’t.”
He stiffened at the words, but remained in place. Neyu raised a hand and pressed her palm to his cheek, and his eyes fluttered shut.
“Neyu…”
“I have thought about what I would say to you, so many times.” Neyu’s voice came soft, belying her next words. “I was angry at you. Unbelievably angry, for so many years.”
It stung to hear, and he had enough of a mind to admit he’d have felt the same—because he’d raged against himself for the decision to leave after their one night together.
A conflicted growl rumbled in Saer’s throat, and he tried to pull away, but his demoness inched closer, refusing to let him leave her proximity. “You didn’t let me say goodbye. You kissed me. You left me. You summoned our kin, but never me.”
The hurt in her words threatened to rip him in two.
How did she balance him at the same time she unsteadied him?
For the first time in decades, peace tried to worm its way into his heart at the lightest touch of her hand.
His match.
Saer let out a shaking breath. “I can’t allow you to be hurt, punished, or taken away from us all. I want to keep you safe.”
“I know, Dearest.”
Dearest.
The First blinked his eyes open to see her, so near, and his heart leapt into his throat.
“This is dangerous, Neyu. Our maker—”
“He won’t find out.”
Saer answered as though the fallen angel were in the room with them. “You know what would happen.”
“We can’t change what we want or feel.”
“Wanting and feeling are human things, Neyu.” She didn’t stop him when he tore away from her grasp.
“We learn. We grow and change. We could be unstoppable.”
Saer paced away from her, then whispered more to himself than the demoness, “So you’ve said before.”
‘Welcome, my First, my son, and servant. I’ve created you, and so you belong to me wholly and completely. You are bound to protect me, obey me, honor me, and put no one above me…’
“No one is above our maker. We agreed. We both agreed, and if we don’t…I can’t risk it,” Saer muttered under his breath. I can’t risk losing you.
Neyu grasped Saer’s elbow to stop him. “We deserve more than we are given.”
“No, Neyu.”
“Yes, Saer.” She dug her fingers into his leather coverings and pulled him to her as she lifted herself to her toes.
Neyu’s lips met his with unexpected ferocity.
Saer’s hands went to the demoness’s shoulders, at first meaning to push her away, but desire swallowed him—the ridiculous, human rush of needing to be near her.
To smell her, touch her, consume her. Pulling Neyu closer, Saer’s fingers clutched tight enough to leave bruises on mortal skin, but her Daemoenic flesh held fast against his iron grip.
Goosebumps rose on his skin despite the heat between them.
The familiar fluttering in his stomach intensified, a sensation he’d forgotten in their years apart, and a yearning sound hummed in his throat, almost a whine.
Neyu shivered and returned the noise in kind, her arms sliding around his waist and curling up to press her body against the length of his, and his tumultuous world made sense in a way it hadn’t since he’d forced distance between them.
He needed her. The realization rankled and righted him.
If they went down this dangerous, terrifying path, they needed to work together. They could do this. He’d make sure of it.
First and favored; he’d outwit their maker.
Hells, but she smelled wonderful. Lavender and roses. Calming and enticing all at once.
Saer broke away with care, hands still on her shoulders. He swallowed, taking a moment to focus. “Ahraan—”
“Means nothing,” Neyu said.
Longing and jealousy flitted in his stomach as Neyu leaned back to brush one of the insistent, silver strands framing his face.
“It shouldn’t matter to me,” Saer whispered.
“I’m glad it does.”
“Why?”
Neyu reached for him again, but Saer stopped her with a finger to her chin. “Tell me about Ahraan.”
She snarled. “I have told you, there’s nothing between us. Nothing beyond words and posturing.”
Something tight in his guts loosened to hear it stated so plainly. He believed her. But there was still something off about the hooded man, and Neyu might have the answer.
“He isn’t human, is he?”
“How can you think about something like—”
“Neyuukhan.” The use of her extended name, more than anything, forced her to give him the authority he deserved.
“I like you when you’re more human, less Daemoenic,” she growled.
Saer gave her a subtle smile, the first true one he remembered experiencing in too long. “If we’re unstoppable as you say, we’ll work together in truth. We tackle problems, one at a time, as a unit, and that includes the golden-skinned donkey.”
Neyu opened her mouth to argue, and Saer laid a light finger to her lower lip, speaking low, “I’m postponing the inevitable while I still have my wits about me. I promise, it’s more difficult than it looks.”
She huffed against Saer’s finger, and it almost broke him. “He finds me beautiful, but is unaffected by me. Even if I sense the smallest spark of lust in him, I can’t pull on it, the same as our kin. By that alone, he can’t be human.”
Saer nodded, a hand sliding around Neyu’s waist. “Good. And how did you know him before?”
“Your hand is distracting me.”
A knowing smile lifted the corner of Saer’s lip further, but he stopped the motion.
Neyu’s tense jaw relaxed. “Ahraan’s immunity diverted me. I was meant to harvest a town. Ahraan managed to turn them all against me and I was forced to leave.”
“You failed.”
Neyu stiffened in Saer’s arms. “Don’t say it as if you’ve never experienced it.”
“I never made the same mistake twice. You would do well to learn from your experiences.”
“Don’t treat me like a child.”
“Don’t force me to.”
Neyu almost pulled away, but Saer tightened his grip around her middle. “Tell me how you’ll avoid another failure from his hand, Neyu.”
“You are insufferable.”
“I know. Tell me how.”
A mirthless scoff left her, but then she whispered, “Hellsfire, I missed you.”
That pang hit Saer’s chest again, and even though warning bells sang in his brain, he squeezed his match closer to him. Brushing his lips against Neyu’s forehead, he murmured against her soft skin, “I missed you too, Dearest.”
His demoness relaxed in his arms, and she did her best to answer Saer’s prior query as concisely as possible. “Ahraan’s weakness is in those he serves. He will do anything to please them while preaching the goodness of the Grandfather.”
“You don’t know what he is, then?”
“I don’t. But he’s no more powerful than one of us, and certainly no more than you and I, together. We’ll find a way to turn the tides.”
Saer trailed kisses along her temple, her cheekbone, her jawline, gratified with her shiver. He ignored all common sense when he whispered against her lips, “We can strategize after.”
“After?”
Saer covered her mouth with his, and Neyu didn’t ask any more questions.
“Saer.” Neyu’s low voice hummed through him.
He hadn’t slept so well in years. With her back pressed to his front, he spooned her with the crook of one arm cradling her head, the other around her waist. After they’d succumbed to one another, losing themselves to pleasure and release, he’d fallen asleep to the lilting rhythm of her deep breaths.
Bliss.
He didn’t want to wake up, and he also didn’t want to miss a moment awake with her.
Saer answered her with his eyes shut. “Hrm?”
Her quiet laugh lightened his heart, and he couldn’t help the curve of his lips. “What could I have possibly done to amuse you so?” he asked.
“It’s a rarity to witness you so relaxed. I consider myself lucky.”
He parted his lips to refute her with another tease, but stopped and huffed instead. “Only you.”