“You remembered it. You understood it. But I don’t think you’re at peace yet.”
I’ll never be that,she said through the bond.
“I’ll be with you anyway.”
Finally, she lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest.
His blood turned to ice.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
There, on her cheek, was a bruise. Not a full handprint, only four marks that were definitely fingers, but spaced too wide and too long to be human. No swelling, but it was real, fresh, angry, and had absolutely not been there when they’d dozed off. Or when they’d fucked each other’s minds and souls inside that sort-of dream.
Okay.
Okay, fine. Nothing about this situation had been normal from the start, so who the hell even knew anymore? “Ah, sweetheart... did you, like, go somewhere before we woke up together?”
“No. Where would I go?”
“I don’t know. Bathroom? Tripped? Face-planted into something?”
She pushed off his chest and sat up. “What are you talking about?”
He scanned her face again, resisting the urge to grab her and check every inch of skin. There didn’t seem to be more bruises, but that didn’t mean there weren’t. He kissed her lips softly, deliberately avoiding the bruise.
Then he stood, pulling her up with him, and took her hand. He led her to the hallway mirror and gently positioned her in front of it. “I’m talking aboutthis.”
She caught sight of her reflection and froze. Her eyes widened. “What the fuck?”
“My thought, exactly.”
Her fingers brushed the mark, gingerly. “This is not–”
“Normal?” Hunter huffed a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Welcome to my goddamn week.”
She stared at the bruising, frowning. “Wait. I think... I think I had another dream. After us. A nightmare.”
“But I was with you the entire time.”
“Can other demons do that? Am I yours only?”
He cupped the unbruised side of her face gently. “Youaremine, only.” He felt her pleasure spike through the bond even though only the corner of her mouth twitched up. “And given how things are, yeah, I would’ve been the one handling that nightmare.”
They moved to the kitchen, where she headed to the fridge and pulled out some cold cuts and bread.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asked, following her.
She started laying slices of ham on toast, thinking. “I was running. I don’t know where I was, but something was after me. It grabbed my shirt, yanked me back, and I fell hard on my ass. Then it grabbed my face. And I think that’s how it ended.”
On a sigh, he stepped in close and started unbuttoning her jeans.
“I could get used to this demon stamina,” she murmured, giving him access.
He smelled the shift, the flare of her arousal, but clenched his jaw and stayed focused. He turned her around, scanning her butt. “Fuck me.”
“That was the idea.”
“No, I mean–yeah, but no. There’s more.”
