Chapter 24
The warmth of his body curved against mine is something I never allowed myself to imagine having every day.
Living forever, unable to be with my own kind, I accepted long ago that I’d never have someone for my forever.
I’d always lose them, outlive them, or be forced to choose between moving on or following them into the afterlife.
Maybe that’s why I’ve always been afraid to grow attached.
But I’m grateful that’s no longer the case.
I stroke my fingers through his short black hair, which has him lifting his chin to meet my gaze. His freshly fucked face is probably my favorite look.
“What?” Lucifer asks as he drags his nails along my abs. His leg is thrown over mine, his chest pressed against my side.
“Nothing.”
He gives me that ‘yeah right’ look. His tongue runs across his bottom lip like he’s preparing to call me out on my bullshit. I don’t let him get that far and wrap my hand around his throat.
“Can’t I just look at my little deviant without needing a reason?” My thumb glides along his sharp jawline before I shift my grip to trace down the ridge of his Adam’s apple. “Does it bother you?”
“You know it doesn’t,” he whispers. “I can just see there’s more in your eyes than the simple act of looking at me.”
Leaning forward, I brush my lips against his. “Looks like I’m becoming too predictable…” He smiles, but I pull him into a kiss I want to last forever.
Persistent little Incubus—he always needs answers.
He pulls back enough to rest his head on my bicep, staring me down. “Seriously, Kayn.”
I groan and slide my hand down his back, pinching his ass before grabbing his tail.
“Fine, if you insist.” His tail twitches—he loves it touched, if the way his cocks get hard is any indication.
“I was just thinking about how glad I am to have you. For someone like me, I didn’t think I’d ever find anyone who could outlive me. ”
His brows pinch, the violet in his eyes darkening. “I’m not going to outlive you…”
“I don’t think I need to remind you, Luce—you can’t die.”
He groans. “I hate that nickname. I prefer ‘little deviant.’”
I shift down, nibbling at his ear. “Yeah, I know. But it’s fun to get under your skin.”
“K-Kayn, wait.”
My teeth trail down his jaw, biting and sucking along familiar marks until I reach the spot on his neck where I’ve claimed him so many times. “You know I don’t like waiting. I’m not a patient person.”
“Just…” Fuck, the way he pants has my dick ready to be back inside of him. “I want to tell you something.”
I let out a low, frustrated growl. He gets in his head a lot about the future, and I knew bringing it up would have us spiral in to what if’s I’m not wanting to talk about.
However, I know what he needs and sit up to look into his eyes. “Go for it, little deviant.”
“I just don’t want you to be hurt if—”
“Lucifer, there is no ‘if’. If nothing. You’re mine, and that means for eternity… and I am not sorry for that.” Grabbing his jaw, I drag my thumb across his lips. “You hear me?”
He swallows roughly.
“Eternity together will be such a beautiful journey.”
I can see it in his eyes that same fear of attachment he’s had since the beginning. “Yeah… but, Kayn, regardless of how much time we have together, just know that I will have enjoyed every second of it. Whether that’s hours” —just that thought nearly ceases my heart—“or years. I’ve loved this: Us.”
“Forever. Eternity. Lucifer, there’s no other option.”
There’s a slight pause before he smiles. “You are always so optimistic, and maybe a little na?ve… and delusional.”
I tut. “I’ll show your ass how na?ve I am, and punish you for thinking you have a choice with me.”
His deep laugh is cut off by our mouths crashing together. He can fuck off with that nonsense, he’s mine. All fucking mine.
“Kayn!”
Gods, is it even possible to get some sleep? I know I don’t need it, but it’s the only place I get any peace these days. Fucking Beyond.
“Kayn, get up!” Atlas whisper-shouts, and I scrub my eyes to get the shit out of them.
I sit up and glare at him. It’s the middle of the night, and the last time something like this happened Amarah was out meditating. Fine—he hadn’t tried waking me then, but still.
“What?” My tone comes out far more irritated than planned, but I was having a good dream. Sue me.
“It’s Amarah—”
He lands on his ass with how fast I’m up and out of the tent. I dart over to hers, and of course it’s empty. When I turn back, Atlas is pushing himself up.
“She’s back in the spring.”
She tried yesterday morning, and nothing happened. She sat in that damn water all day until her fingers pruned. At dinner her skin felt like an elastic band. I told her she needed to wait until tomorrow—now today—to try again.
“Hurry,” he says, but something in his voice is off. Worried, sure… but not genuinely. I don’t have time to diagnose whatever the Beyond that means, because if something’s wrong with her, I need to go.
We’d set up camp close enough to walk, but far enough that the smell didn’t punch us in the face all night. The mineral-rich aroma had nothing on the sulfur—sharp and eggy. Whatever healing properties the water might have, they aren’t worth it to me.
But for Amarah? Walking into a sulfur swamp is the smallest price I’d pay.
Leaving Atlas behind, I reach the edge of the spring in less than a minute. Towering oaks give way to rocky formations surrounding a large pool of steaming water. The mist rises several feet above the surface.
My eyes widen at the sight in front of me. And for someone who’s lived over a thousand years to say he’s never seen anything like this?
That’s saying something.
Amarah is standing naked in the center of the spring, her long white hair soaked and clinging down her back. It doesn’t stop me from seeing the curve of her ass before it disappears beneath the water.
I want to admire her, explore every inch of her, but I can’t.
Not with the creature towering over her, staring at her like she’s either his next meal… or simply, his.
His glowing eyes pulse with a bioluminescent ember, drifting like fireflies.
He’s made of living wood and the same energy I feel radiating off Amarah.
His body—woven from bark and vines—flows together like some ancient, awakened tree.
Branches jut from his shoulders and crown his head, sprouting glowing green leaves.
When he moves, it’s fluid. And the moment his hand touches her cheek, I take a step forward.
The creature jerks his head toward me, and when its mouth opens, I’m not prepared to hear our common tongue.
“You will leave, mortal.”
“Yeah, I don’t fucking think so. Don’t touch her!”
I’m not even into my second step, ready to plow through the thigh-high water, when he simply waves his free hand, and I’m thrown back. Like I weigh nothing—a damn leaf in the wind. I’m hurled straight into a tree.
The creature doesn’t spare me a glance. He turns back to Amarah and, to my absolute horror, his hand draws back… and plunges straight into her chest.
A drifting, detached sensation rips through me. Time loses its grip. My body feels distant, as if I’ve been the one impaled.
“No…”
I’m on my feet and running before the word fully leaves my mouth, only for something to coil around my wrists, then my ankles. I pull, but the pressure tightens, cinching until it’s so taut it threatens to sever the limbs entirely.
It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but getting to her.
I pull harder. So hard that my hand snaps free from the joint entirely. The crack of bone tears a grunt from my chest.
“Foolish.”
I jerk my gaze up at him just as the same type of vines restraining me slither around my neck. They force me down to my knees. I strain against them, flexing my neck, fighting the tightening coil around my throat.
“L-Let her go!”
“Amarah!” I scream through the bond, but it’s silent.
No. No. She—she can’t be dead.
“Amarah!”
Her shoulders jolt, and the creature glances down at her.
“I’ll fucking kill you for touching her, you damn piss target for dogs!”
The creature roars, and just as the pressure around my throat reaches the brink—ready to pop my head clean off—it stops.
“Kayn?” Her voice isn’t strained. Not even worried. Which terrifies me, because this seven-foot nightmare just had its hand in her chest.
I couldn’t see it, but the action alone was to impale her. But now that I take everything in… it didn’t penetrate her back.
What is happening…
“Amarah.”
She turns her head over her shoulder, and the bright gold in her eyes slowly drains away, returning to the indigo I’ve grown attached to.
“Let him go.”
“I know not to kill him, but you know my feelings about the male.”
The moment the vines loosen, I’m ripping them off and charging toward her. Water waves around my legs, soaking through my pants. The creature steps back from her, and she hesitates to fully turn in my direction.
Right. She’s naked.
I reach her in a heartbeat, grip her shoulder, and turn her toward me. She’s talking so calmly, she shouldn’t have a hole in her chest, but I need to see for myself. Her hands fly up to cover her breasts, but all I care about is the fact that she’s whole. Not a drop of blood.
I snap my head over my shoulder, ready to tear that wooden bastard apart… but there’s nothing. Just rising steam and the forest beyond.
“You saw that?” Her voice snaps my attention back to her.
I nod and bring my free hand—the one not gripping her shoulder—to the side of her neck. “I did… but I can’t explain what it was I saw. What the fuck was it? Are you okay? It… he—”
“It’s a he.”
It. He. She. Santa Claus. I don’t care. It touched her, and it saw her naked. If I ever see him again, I’m using him as firewood.
She exhales slowly. “You interrupted…” She shifts, visibly uncomfortable, but I couldn’t give less of a shit right now. “His name is Thornwyn. He’s a warrior and protector of Vendra. When my kind die, he carries our souls to her.”
A crushing weight hits my chest. “Why… was he here?”
Her small, sheepish smile eases something sharp inside me. “Not to take me away. He came to help me figure out what I’ve been doing wrong.”
“Why the fuck did he have to touch you? And why’d you have to be naked?”
She clicks her tongue. “Gods, you’re so… weird. I don’t even know what to call you anymore. Why do you think I don’t wear shoes, hmm?”
“Because you’re weird.”
She rolls her eyes and presses her arms tighter against her chest. I keep my gaze stubbornly above her chin; I’m being very well-behaved. “No, it’s so I’m connected to Vendra’s world. I figured I’d come as I came into the world. Seemed to work.”
“Alright, alright… was I seeing shit, or did he reach into your chest?” When she bites her bottom lip, I slide my hand to her collarbone, right above her heart. “I could’ve sworn…”
“Um…” Her breath hitches. “The heart is our energy source. It gives us life. Yours pumps the blood that sustains you, even if it’s not as powerful as ours. Sirens eat hearts for sustenance. It’s the organ that must be repaired for a Demon to regenerate fully. I was offering it for help.”
I force my tongue to stick to the top of my mouth, because I was about to say something I know I can’t come back from. To tell her that isn’t hers to give away.
“Did you get what you wanted?” I’m irritated, and it bleeds into my tone.
“Mhmm.” She moves my hand from where it had slowly crept over her heartbeat, then drags her dripping hair forward over her shoulders so it curtains her breasts.
“Why aren’t you hurt, then?”
“This is so hard to explain, Butcher. You aren’t supposed to see them.”
“Them?”
She takes a cautious step back. “Thornwyn isn’t…
a creature of this world. They walk among mortals as spirits.
Same with Grimhorns.” My furrowed brows keep her talking.
“That day at the gas station… you heard one of them. It came for me. They’re Belial’s bidders, but they can be summoned by Witches and other Demons alike.
You aren’t meant to see them or hear them—truly, you aren’t meant to know they exist. I think…
it’s the bond.” Her voice climbs toward panic, her heartbeat spiking. “And again, Gods, I’m so sorry.”
My eyes widen in surprise. I mean, yes, it was inconvenient at first. Sure, I have to concentrate not to speak to her through my internal thoughts, but it’s not that bad. However, by the way she reacts, it’s like she’s taken my life away from me…
“I swear I didn’t mean to,” she continues. “I would’ve never done that to you. It wasn’t supposed to—”
I step toward her. When she tries to retreat, I don’t let her. My hand slides to the back of her head, pulling her forehead to my chest as I wrap my arms around her.
She gasps sharply, her whole body stiff as a board.
“It’s alright, Amarah.”
Her movements are painfully slow, hesitant, but eventually her shoulders loosen and her arms circle my waist. I thread my fingers through her hair, my other hand steady on her shoulder as she clings to my shirt and rubs her forehead against me.
“Is it alright?” The pain in her voice shouldn’t gut me the way it does. “I don’t think it is. I don’t think… it’ll ever be alright.”
I swear she’ll be alright. There’s more going on with her and I refuse to let her go once our deal is done. Things may not be alright now, but they will be. I’ll make sure of it.
Dragging my hand down her back, I’m ready to tell her exactly that—until my fingers catch on uneven skin. Raised ridges, shallow valleys, dips and puckers. Every inch I travel is wrong.
My entire world flashes red.
I yank her back and spin her so fast she gasps.
“Yeah, she’s got a bunch of… tattoos on her back, or markings. You should ask about them.” Atlas, that fucking liar. These aren’t markings. They’re not ink. They’re scars—dozens of them. No. Hundreds.
“Who did this to you?!”