“Do you forgive me?” he murmurs, his head angling playfully to look me in the eyes.
I blink at him but merely smile as I tuck the sphere into my coat pocket and walk away. Let him sweat a little with the unknown. What’s good for the goose and all that.
“Where are you going?” he calls.
“Back out of these woods,” I holler over my shoulder. “I may be many things, but stupid isn’t one of them. I’m not going to take any risks.”
Jak’s laughter rings through the woods, and he quickly catches up with me to fall into step at my side, looping our arms together so that I cannot help but smile in return.
“The woods are dangerous for a human alone, but with me, it is a paradise that awaits. Come and examine some of my work,” he sweetly persuades.
My lips tip in response and I dip my head in agreement as I allow myself to be steered back into the woods, the demon at my side morphing into an enthusiastic artist. It brings to mind the ice sculpture contests of the winters of my youth, yet a thousand times more magical. And just like back then, I find that I never want this moment to end as we walk among the ice-painted trees. I want more of that primal magic and beauty that is uniquely Jaks. And somehow, the simple joys and promises of the “real world” are a bit duller in comparison to it.
Fuck, Jak. You’re right, this is dangerous, but for far different reasons. Don’t make me fall in love with a demon.
Chapter 12
Jakfros
“You are not, by chance, still annoyed, are you?” I ask as I eye Shawna from across the table.
My plate is already laden with food, ready to be enjoyed, but I am just waiting for her, and she doesn’t appear to be in any great hurry to begin. My stomach gurgles unhappily, and I give her a pitiful look that makes her lips twitch in amusement. I know I am noticeably sulking now and even I am incredulous about it. When have I ever cared about food so much? Eating has always been nothing more than a matter of survival when I have required it, and I have certainly never even missed it when the other hunger overcomes me in the winter. It seems that Shawna has changed all of that for me, and I do not know whether to be grateful that she introduced me to such pleasure or displeased at my body’s sudden addiction.
The corner of her mouth hitches, and she folds her hands beneath her chin, her elbows braced on the table, as she leans forward to smile at me. My wings—the dark gods damn them—flutter a bit apprehensively at that glittering amusement that brightens her eyes.
“Why would you think that, Jak?” she asks in a sweet, quiet voice.
I am a demon, not a fool, so I eye her cautiously, refraining from answering the first, or even the second, thing that comesto my mind. Certainly, I am not even certain I can talk because my mouth has curiously gone dry and my tongue appears to be fastened to the roof of my mouth. There is also a certain part of my anatomy that is responding aggressively to her playfulness. The bells on my belt tinkle softly as I squeeze my thighs together in an effort to ease the ache in my balls and rapidly engorging phallus.
I exhale slowly in my attempt to refocus, as I have suddenly lost track of what we were talking about. My stomach pinches again, reminding me. Oh yes. Food. I clear my throat and decide to try for diplomatic questions rather than hissing in annoyance or attempting to charm compliance like many of my brethren might. Truly the latter was the most frequent method employed, as hissing, while good for frightening prey into compliance, is seldom satisfactory. But even that feels disingenuous. While I want to savor the food with her, I feel that the experience would be tainted if her true enjoyment is not considered.
“You usually enjoy our meals together,” I tactfully reply.
Her eyebrows rise, though that small half-smile does not leave her face.
“Who says I am not enjoying this?”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair as I try not to pinch my tail or wings against the ridiculously tight confines of the human seat. So, this is a punishment. Perhaps she requires that I appease her in some way?
“Perhaps there is some way I can increase your pleasure?” I murmur.
Her smile slips, and she blinks at me with genuine surprise before glancing at the table with confusion. “Jak, everything is perfect as usual. With all of these dishes and a choice of desserts, I can’t even imagine a single thing that you could possibly improve upon.”
Warmth stirs in my chest at her words, and it floods through me, bringing a smile to my lips. I examine the feelings as they rise with it. Pleasure. Pride. Satisfaction. And just pure happiness beneath all of it. Although my magic and preparations have often satisfied my prey as a means of lifting the quality of their energy with their merriment, their delight had never felt like a genuine compliment to me personally. I examine the feeling closer and smile inwardly. I truly must marvel at just how easily she can inspire such a warm feeling of happiness. The feeling is fleeting, however, as her words do not solve the most immediate problem and they seem to belie her current lack of enjoyment in my offerings. Perhaps the diplomatic approach is the wrong way to go. I should just be direct then.
