“Demons are created to fulfill a purpose, and therefore should not be capable of imagining. You awakened that sensation in me. Every moment, I am engrossed with thoughts of you and all that I would do if you desired me.”
Lips slightly parted, she exhales softly, then smiles up at me. “I desire you. And I’ve decided I’m a fan of demon directness when it’s combined with romantic goodness about me.” She smooths her palms over the gray shirt I selected to prevent standing out.
My choice of clothing is inconsequential. I am not responsible for the attention we are receiving. All eyes are on Lilah, the most beautiful creature in any realm.
“Why did you hesitate when we arrived?”
“Hesitate?” Wrinkles form at the bridge of her strong, elegant nose. Then her eyes open wide and her skin returns to its normal smoothness. “Oh, you mean here, behind the chairs?”
“Yes.”
“I stopped to contemplate whether to be polite and sit near the back, so that your extremely broad shoulders and thick, tall horns don’t block anybody’s view of the ceremony, or to should say ‘to hell with everyone else’ and grab the best seats. I don’t want to miss one perfectly romantic second of Rosetta and Dak’s wedding.”
“Then we will sit near the front where you will have the best view.” I take her small hand and tuck it over my arm, then lead her toward the front row of chairs. “As for damning ourneighbors to hell… it is a place I was fortunate to exit, and I would not wish to send any of our good townspeople there.”
“Oh, Amazra.” Again, she stops our progress. “I’m sorry. That was such a careless thing for me to say. I didn’t mean it literally, but I should have considered that you would. I’ll be more careful with my words. Forgive me for putting my foot in my mouth? And I don’t mean that literally, either. Half the things I say probably rub you the wrong way.”
“If you are rubbing me in any way, I will enjoy it.” I position my lips in an upward curve and close one eye. Gestures I have been practicing to use on an occasion such as this. With her. For her. “I know you did not mean the rubbing comment literally. I am attempting to amuse you.”
“And you succeeded.” She returns the wink, then cups my cheek and smiles up at me. “We still have a lot to learn about each other, but I think things are going pretty well so far, especially now that we’re both being direct.”
“As do I.” I cup my hand over hers, then draw her palm to my mouth. My intention is to place a single kiss there, but the moment I press my lips to her skin and inhale, pulling her scent inside me, a single kiss is not enough. Holding her hand firmly in mine, I cover every inch of her palm with kisses, trailing the tip of my tongue in their wake, then teasing it in the V between each of her fingers. A sample of what is to come. What I will do to give her pleasure.
By the time I release her hand, a crimson blush has flooded her cheeks, and her breasts are rising and falling rapidly. Despite the all-encompassing need to have her—now, in every way—I do not want to miss a single moment of anything and everything that brings her joy, including this ceremony of commitment.
“Let us find your perfect seat.”
“Okay,” she says, nodding.
Today, her dark hair is curled in long, loose ringlets that are swept to one side of her neck and secured with a velvet ribbon in the same burgundy color as her formfitting dress. Her lips are painted a matching shade, curved in a beautiful smile entirely for me. “I wish we’d been direct about our mutual attraction the first time I walked into your bakery. Or any of the dozens of times afterward. Or the Sundays we lay side by side while looking at the sky together. I regret that we lost so much time we could’ve spent like this.”
“Regret is a hell of its own. I would rather dwell in the present with you.”
“Me too.” She loops her hand through the crook of my arm, then leans her head against my shoulder as we continue toward the front of the seating area. She chooses a spot in the second row, near the outer aisle, and I take my place beside her, drawing her hand onto my leg and encompassing it within mine.
With each minute, more guests arrive in the parkette. Soon, the chairs are filled to capacity, and behind them, a sizeable group of townsfolk stand to watch the upcoming ceremony.
But I only see Lilah. Even when music begins to play and we all stand to honor the bride during her approach, I cannot tear my gaze from my Lilah.
Seated again, she turns her head just enough to meet my eyes, that irresistible scrunch happening between her eyebrows as she motions toward the couple standing at the outdoor altar.
For her, I direct my attention toward the human bride and the orc who will soon be her husband. I am not well acquainted with the woman, Rosetta, whom Lilah calls a friend, but I have known Dakgorim for many years, in as much as that is possible. Like demons, orcs are solitary. Serious. But watching Dakgorim stand before a minister with his soon-to-be wife, it is plain to see how love has affected him. Even in the midst of this formalceremony, he cannot stop touching her. Cannot stop staring into her eyes with unbridled affection and devotion.
I return my attention to Lilah. Despite her warning that she will belong to no one but herself, she is mine. Not to possess or control. Mine to adore and worship.
She glances at me, once again motioning for me to watch the wedding instead of her. When I hold fast, she smiles and shakes her head. Squeezes my hand. Whether she knows it yet or not, she is already mine to love.
LILAH
The crowd in The Brew hasn’t thinned out in the two hours we’ve been at the reception. If this were anywhere in the “normal” world, it’d be fair to say a lot of the people were here to take advantage of the open bar provided by Constantine, the brew pub’s owner.
He hadn’t fallen in love with Rosetta’s cousin Natalie yet when he offered to cover everyone’s tab for the drop-in reception. He hadn’t even met her. Generosity is part of the big Minotaur’s nature. It’s a trait shared by the entire Fate’s Falls community.
Community.That’s why so many people are here this evening. Everyone wants to celebrate Dak and Rosetta’s marriage, which I have no doubt will last a lifetime. As outspoken and spunky as she is, RoadoresDak. And though I’ve only ever known the hulking orc to be reserved, nearly to the point of being withdrawn, the joy he shares with Rosetta is written all over his intense, green face.
“They’re so happy,” I say, resting the back of my head against Amazra’s broad, hard chest. “Does it look like they’re glowing to you, or is that my wine goggles?” I tip my head sideways and upward until I can see his face, and find him looking at me, as he has been the entire day. “I don’t mean literal goggles. Obviously.” A winegiggleslips out. “It means the alcohol has affected the way I perceive things. Another of the endless phrases we humans use to mean something entirely different from the actual words spoken. We must drive you crazy—also not a literal phrase.”
I have yet to hear Amazra laugh out loud, but his chest vibrates as his lips curve upward. Lips I’m very eager to feel all over my body as soon as it’s socially appropriate for us to make our exit from the party.
