But the moment they leave my lips, a weight lifts. It’s a truth I’ve carried forcenturies.One I would have never dreamed possible.
I scoff a small laugh. “For as long as you’ll have me,” I add. “Our ascension is inevitable. Might as well try to keep Rowen and Tanila out of the hells in the process.”
Let the records show contrary to well-established knowledge, a demoniscapable of noble acts. Even if they are motivated by spite.
Vaelyn isn’t getting Rowen.
Not yet.
“Does a demon dare to give me her heart?” Ryc asks and there’s a hint of teasing in his eyes.
“She’s certainly damned, isn’t she?” I counter and he chuckles.
“At the very least, she won’t be damned alone.”
There’s the truth.
I know where my heart stands. Beside his.
And as new as we are, none of it feels new. Instead, there’s a familiarity, a comfort, a connection that feels ancient and easy.It doesn’t matter if the world falls to chaos around us, Ryc is the steady security I crave.
“We’ll have to marry,” Ryc says, and my ribs grip my heart.
He notices.
“Tonight?” I ask, fighting the sudden surge of panic in my veins.
“No, not tonight, little death,” he says softly and a grin spreads on his face. “But soon.”
He raises my hand to his lips, turning it over to expose the wrist. With a slow dip of his head, he places a kiss upon the sensitive skin of my palm, his eyes never leaving mine. The warmth of his touch races right down my spine, soothing the panic.
A smirk curls his lips. “Not afraid of the council, but afraid to marry?” he asks, returning my hand to my lap.
The council doesn’t get to claim ownership of me.
Marriage to Ryc means Rycdoes.
“I’d like to review the marriage contract,” I say and his eyes narrow as if I’ve spoken another language.
He straightens himself, assessing me before scoffing a small laugh. “There isn’t a contract, little death,” he says with quiet disbelief. “There is no exchange of power, despite the exchange of gifts.” He nods towardThe Joining. “Those pages detail everything. You’ll see. We’re equals in everything.”
“No… contract?” I ask, sharing his sense of disbelief.
He laughs. “No. You’re free to charm the whole of Erus,” he replies, reminding me of a particular morning upon the rooftops of the North Docks.
“Including the Sovereign King?” I tease with an arched brow.
“Especially the Sovereign King,” he laughs in a low rumble. “He’s a lost cause. I hear he’s in love with a demon.”
“Love?” I ask in a breathy laugh.
Unweaving his hands from mine, he grips my seat and drags it closer. He doesn’t have to lean quite as far for his lips to brush against mine.
“Love,” he repeats in a whisper.
I stare, stunned silent, at the beautiful fae before me.
Helovesme?
