Xavir
Perhaps, if I did not remove myself from where I had fallen, some type of black magic would create a portal that would swallow my crumpled body and spit me out into the darkest depths of the Underworld where I belonged.
Perhaps facing the king of hell would not hold as much humiliation as this.
It could not have been helped, my body’s reaction to her words. It had been far too much of a surprise, and I had lost control of my limbs.
Beautiful.
Beautiful?
Beautiful, me?
Surely, she jested.
Yet I knew Mia Song. I knew her jokes, and her soft face had been sincere, openly honest and raw. I knew what it was to have her on paper, so I had been caught off guard to experience that expression in the flesh for the first time.
Her reaction had not been one I was expecting.
For weeks, months, I had convinced myself she would fear me. That my face was a thing of nightmares. Nazzar had led me to believe their sensibilities were fragile at first. That she would fear me. And watching, I had thought the same, knowing I was not built like human males of her world.
And yet she did not look at me with disgust.
Her lids hooded, and she had smiled at me. It felt like looking at the presence of an angel herself.
And now I was on her floor, with a likely-broken and twisted wing, my body throbbing, and yet…
None of it compared to the storm inside me. The heart in my chest pounded faster and faster at the thought of her and me, of us. I was no longer in the shadows. She knew of my existence.
But I would first muster the bravery to stand and face her right then.
“Xavir?”
Her timid voice pulled me from the confines of my own thoughts.
My body twitched as I struggled to stave off the humiliation in my bones.
“Please don’t be dead.”
It was the hopeless fear in her voice that pushed me to finally move. I did not like the sound of her voice in distress. It brought an unwanted sensation to my chest, a discomfort I was intelligent enough to understand for what it was.
I cared for her. My wife. And I wanted nothing if not her happiness.
I could not be the cause of her distress.
So I stood, my wings aching as I snapped them against my back.
I loomed over her, bending to get a closer look.
My hair slid across my shoulders, swaying between us.
I expected her to scramble back across her bed to get away from me.
But she was on all fours, leaning towards me like she wanted a closer look as much as I did.
For a moment, we did nothing but stare at one another. It was a privilege to breathe her in, to study her from this close a distance and memorize her features. The pale skin, flushed pink along her cheeks, the dark and expressive eyes.
She was a vision, a melody brought to life, perfection given form. She brought sound to colors and flavor to emotions.
And she was mine.
All mine.
My wife.
If only she would allow me to claim her first.
When my brothers and I had set out to find brides, we had been adamant that we would seize them, steal them, mate them, and they would be ours.
I was not setting out to do it in the way of our original plan. This had not been my intent at all. Yet now that I was before her, I could feel that urge gripping me, to grab her and fly her away from everything. But even stronger than that was something else.
I was not impatient, unlike my brothers. I had studied my wife before landing here, and yet there was still much I did not know about her, still much that gave me the ability to be surprised.
The way she stared at me was one of them.
Like I was a marvel. Like I was, indeed, beautiful. And that urge to steal her, yes, it was there, but the urge to hear her speak was a far greater need.
“Please,” I whispered, startling her eyes to meet my own. “Will you say it again… Mia?”
She blinked slowly. Her eyes darted everywhere at once, taking in my face and our differences, no doubt. My eyes, which contained empty space and no amount of color, unlike her own. My horns, my fangs, even my skin… But our gazes locked and held, and a tremble swept through her body.
“Say what?” Her pink tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip.
I pulled back a fraction, feeling heat crawl up my face.
Strange. I had never felt this fire before. It was a feeling I could not describe, but I did not relish it. It made me want to look away, to snatch my words back, for I felt a fool.
But then, she did something I did not expect.
Her palm reached forward and cradled my cheek, pulling my attention back to her. Her expression was soft, as soft as I had never seen before.
“Xavir?” she insisted. “Say what?”
Though there was a gentleness to her touch, there was also strength there. A refusal to be unanswered.
She was strong, my wife. She boasted a quiet sort of strength, the kind that hid in the shadows and thrived there. And that piece of her fit perfectly against the pieces of me. All of her synchronized with all of me without either of us touching or meeting face to face before now.
Fate. It was a word I had only heard whispered in the dark, never to understand it or truly grasp its meaning until I found her.
“Tell me I am beautiful.”
There was a raw edge of vulnerability and eagerness dripping from my tongue.
I despised the weakness but craved that sensation in equal measure.
I did not truly know what it was to be a man, but I imagined it was something similar to this.
This feeling in my chest of a need that could not be sated.
Yes, I had cravings before. I had wanted the world, one that was not dark and desolate and violent.
I wanted soft kisses and the music she played.
She gave it to me in her sighs, shoulders relaxing, smile kicking up in a way that made me want to… do something to her, though I could not discern what.
“You’re beautiful, Xavir.”
I melted like molten lava from the core of a volcano into her touch, chasing it with eagerness. “You do not find me frightening?”
I almost feared her answer, but Mia chuckled, and I basked in the sound. “Of course I do. But I think the scariest, deadliest things are the most beautiful.”
My wings twitched and a shot of pain was sent up my spine, though it was easy enough to ignore. I stepped closer and she sucked in a breath, leaning slightly away from me. “You have nothing to fear from me, wife,” I assured her.
She sucked in another breath and pushed away from me.
In the darkness, I could hear her heart beating faster and faster, and concern of the distressed sound had me following after her on the bed.
My knees sunk into the mattress, my claws tearing through the material as I loomed above her on all fours, staring down with my worry apparent.
“What troubles you?” I questioned.
“Y-you said ‘wife’.” She stared up at me, entire body trembling.
My brother’s words rang in warning in my mind, but I was unsure if I could truly trust his truth.
Yes, Nazzar was wise. He was our leader, and I would lay my life on the line for his.
But my wife was unlike his human. I did not know the human woman he called Dolores, the one he had claimed.
But he spoke of her, and Mia was not to be compared.
But the truth would be more inviting than the most tasteful lie.
I leaned down so I could breathe her in. She smelled of burning myrrh and pomegranates. Addictive.
She smelled like mine.
A rumble sounded through my chest at the proximity to her.
“I suppose I should introduce myself in a more formal manner,” I all but purred.
“My name is Xavir, Spymaster of Shadows, servant and informant to my King of Hell, and Second General of the Legions of the Underworld.” I bowed my head low, our foreheads nearly grazing in the process.
The very tips of my horns slid through the long silky strands of her hair, the tresses tangling against me.
“I have slipped free of the confines of the Underworld to come to your realm, for I was in want of a wife.” I felt a fire build in my chest and glow blue around us, illuminating her fear and fascination and, dare I even hope, acceptance.
“And you, Mia Song, are the human I have chosen to be my bride.”