Chapter 39 Pleasures & Gifts #2
“Thank you.” I slipped out as quickly as possibly and practically flew back up the stairs to my room, praying I didn’t run into Oberon or Simeon.
“What on earth are you so worried about?” Devil asked when I nearly slammed the door behind me, then bolted it. “You aren’t in the Abbey anymore. Oberon isn’t going to toss you out into the gutter for bringing me here.”
I frowned at him. “No, but I do not want to risk him punishing you.”
“You would not defend me against him?” His fingers traced along my jaw, then over my collarbone, and I leaned back against the edge of my desk.
“Of course, I would. I already have. But…”
“You have far more power than you can even imagine, May, and you should not be letting anyone in this forest dictate what you do. Not even Oberon and Titania.”
“I am not that powerful, nor that brave. Not yet.”
“Would that you could see yourself through my eyes,” Devil said. “Not as a meek, obedient girl, who must earn a place at the table, but as the storm—as a goddess, answerable to no one.”
“Blasphemy,” I laughed.
“What must I do,” he growled, sliding his hands beneath my thighs, then lifting me onto the desk, “to make you forget your weak, paltry gods?” He pressed his lips to the side of my neck as his hands roamed over my hips and waist. Even through the haze of desire quickly settling over me, I knew what the answer was.
“Let me help with the caravan,” I said, in my most gently authoritative tone.
His brow furrowed. “These things are dangerous.”
“Am I not also dangerous?” I asked, calling up a few wisps of shadow and forming them into darts, sharp and solid as arrowheads. Devil took one in his hand, testing to see if it would vanish, but it did not.
“You know,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk, “I really wasn’t sure if making you come would be effective, but it looks like—”
I slapped a hand over his mouth, then tried to put on a more serious tone. “I still have much work to do before truly mastering Shadowspinning, but please, let me help with this. A small role only. Let me test myself.”
Devil reached up and pulled my hand from his mouth, kissing the tip of each finger.
“I told you before that I would deny you nothing, and so I suppose I have no choice. But you will be under my command, and you will obey.” His smirk returned for a moment as he leaned in to kiss my mouth.
“You have a bargain, my demon,” I replied as our lips met.
We spent the rest of our evening together in comfortable silence.
When Ceres arrived, carrying a heavily-laden supper tray, Devil used Lightweaving to conceal himself beside the wardrobe.
The faun was clearly suspicious, but said nothing, and spun up an enormous hot raincloud for me to bathe under.
But just as I was closing the door behind her, softly calling out my thanks, she turned on her hoof and pursed her lips.
“Forgive me for sticking my nose where it ought not be, Miss May, but I know Oberon won’t have the stomach to speak to you about this,” she whispered.
“Humans rely on their herbs and tonics to prevent a child from forming in the womb, but here in the Arden, things are much more…simple.” I tried not to react, even though my stomach was suddenly doing acrobatics.
“The Huntress grants life, and so a child cannot form without her blessing, which she will only give when both parents ask her for it. You understand?”
I gave her a tense nod and muttered, “Thank you,” then closed the door. Devil was already examining the tray she’d brought, and I had to take a deep breath before I faced him.
“Will you eat or bathe first?” he asked, popping a fat, red grape into his mouth.
“Bathe,” I said quietly, hoping to give myself a few minutes to think. “Alone.”
He just raised an eyebrow. “Why would I assume otherwise?”
“Because you are a demon,” I laughed, “and a hellion, and a rake.”
“I am all those things, yes,” he agreed, “but I am yours first, Mayhem, always.” He placed a gentle hand on the back of my head and pulled me in to kiss my hair. A flood of emotions poured out, tossing me in all directions within the space of a moment until he broke the contact between us.
That night—lying on a soft mattress, full and clean—I could not fall asleep for hours.
Devil had bathed too, and left his shirt off when we got into bed.
His arm draped over my waist now, a comforting weight, and I pressed myself against his warm body, relishing every steady breath.
The scar on his chest, where he had branded himself with my holy iron that first day, stood out stark and pink against his pale skin.
“You made him for me,” I whispered, tracing a finger over it, then looking out to where the moon was just barely visible through the treetops.
“You brought me back to my family, and you gave me this power. Now, I need your help again, to protect the Arden, and the people of Nottingham. If I have to make a bargain with the gods themselves, so be it, but please…help me save them.”