He examines my skin. “Not even pink.”
Together we walk back toward the fire. I’m relieved the shower of sparks didn’t burn the carpet. Thank God, there doesn’t appear to be any damage. I search the flames for any remnant of the candle. With the poker from the rack, I move the logs around. Nothing remains. Not even a pool of wax.
“It’s gone.”
Beside me, Damien goes perfectly still, a preternatural stillness as if he’s turned to stone. His chin jerks downward and his eyes rove to the space over his heart. Slowly, he unbuttons his shirt and moves the fabric aside. His brows knit and he looks between his chest and me in utter confusion.
The skull and crossbones tattoo that marked his servitude to the Gowdies has vanished.
“Holy shit,” I whisper. Tentatively, I close the space between us and feather my touch over his smooth, unmarked skin. “It worked. You’re free.”
I’ve never seen Damien look like this. His expression turns frantic, and he grips my shoulders, giving me a light shake. “How? How did you do it? It shouldn’t have been possible.”
“Ow. You’re hurting me!”
He releases me like I’ve burned him. “I’m sorry. I—” Between us, his hands shake violently, and I take them in myown. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“But how. How is this possible?”
“You saw how I did it. The fire must have broken the spell. You’re free.” I smile up at him, ecstatic that both of us have managed what we wanted. But my smile fades when I realize what this means. He’ll go now, maybe try to find his way home. He won’t waste his time on me, on a human. I take a step back, dragging my touch from him. “Thank you, Damien.”
His hands stop shaking, and he composes himself. “Do you want me to go, little dragon?”
I press a hand to the ache in my chest. “No. I want you to stay with me. I want to… be with you.” My cheeks heat from the admission. “But even more, I want you to do what you want to do. I think after centuries of being bound to someone else’s will, you deserve it.”
His lids sink to half-mast. “I want to be with you, too, but...”
I can see he’s holding something back. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”
“You should see what I truly am, Eloise.” His voice is all leather and grit. “Before you invite me to stay, you need to understand the monster you’re inviting into your bed.”
32
Prince of Shadows
ELOISE
Here’s the thing about Damien’s monsterhood. I know he’s not like me. He’s not even from this planet originally. But since the day I first called him, I’ve felt oddly safe in his presence. “I know what you are, Damien, and I want all of you.”
He responds with a skeptical tilt of his head. “This man you see before you is an illusion. It’s the form I take on this planet to blend in.”
“Then show me what you look like without it. It won’t change anything.”
“You sound so sure.”
“I am sure.”
The lights flicker and then go out. Damien breaks into shadow as I’ve watched him do before, only this time, he holds the form I’ve only witnessed in passing. I blink my eyes to force them to adjust to the dim light. Before me stands the demon I glimpsed in the shadows. Black leathery skin spans a wide, heavily muscled chest. Two thick hornstwist from either side of his head, tapering to sharp points that tower above me and almost scrape the ceiling. A dark mane of hair falls in waves to his shoulders. Massive wings, like a bat’s, with a claw at their apex, span the length of his body from horns to hooves.Clovenhooves below shaggy black legs that meet at an intimidatingly large phallus.
He extends a hand to me. His fingers end in deadly black claws. Damien, in his shade form, is something out of my deepest nightmares, a monster in every sense of the word. I’ve noticed this form in passing when he’s shifted into the shadows, but I’ve never had time to process it. Not like this. Not up close with time to truly absorb that this is the real him. He looks like a demon, a devil, a creature of the night. And although I know he’s none of those things, the man I’ve known, whose lips have touched my flesh, is only an illusion.
His barbed tail flicks, twitching like a nervous cat’s. Just like that, a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. Damien may be a monster who can tear me to shreds as easy as breathing, but right now he’s terrified of me, of my judgment. I study him with new eyes, like I might a work of art. While this form challenges my preconceptions, it is a window into his soul. Damien is made of shadow, and he is offering himself to me —all his darkness, his entire beastly nature.
Slowly, I wrap my fingers around his big, warm palm, careful of his talons, and run my hands up his torso. A deep rattle vibrates against my touch. A purr. My God, he’s purring like a cat. His eyes glow silver and he smiles down at me with a mouth full of razor-sharp fangs. The effect is terrifying at first, but I focus on the way his skin wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Definitely a smile. Slowly, my heart rate evens out. This is Damien.I’m safe.
Curious, I let my touch drift around his sides, stroking up the ridged skin of his back and massaging the place his wings attach to his body. The rough ridges of his flesh there are fascinating. I ease my fingertips along the edge of one wing. His eyes close on a sigh. Coasting my hand lower, to the base of his spine, I ring his tail with my thumb and forefinger and tug it gently. His skin is smooth and soft here. The purr I heard earlier turns into a gruff moan and his erection grows thick and long between us.
