My mate.
My ridiculously handsome, stupidly powerful, almost-blew-up-his-brothers-because-I-went-swimming Demon Lord of Fire.
It hurts a little, in that good, aching way, to think he ever believed he was unworthy of love.
Of this.
“Careful,” he murmurs, glancing down at me with those ember-bright eyes. “You’re thinking very loudly over there, Shula.”
I huff a laugh, squeezing his fingers. “Am I?”
“Yes. It’s like standing too close to the Great Flame.”
“What, hot and loud?”
“Blinding,” he corrects. “And impossible to ignore.”
We reach our chamber door and he pauses, turning to face me fully.
The firelight from inside spills out around us when he opens it, warm and inviting, washing over his sharp cheekbones and the strong line of his jaw.
God, he’s beautiful.
“What are you thinking?” he asks softly. “Truly.”
I swallow, suddenly shy and not wanting to be.
So I do what Delia Esposito, ex-EMT, current viyella of the Lord of Fire, has learned works best in Nightfall.
I tell the truth.
“I’m wondering,” I say, meeting his gaze, “if maybe you might like to kiss me, Thorne. Now. Please.”
His mouth curves—slow, sinful, full of heat.
“I always want to kiss you, Shula,” he rumbles, voice going rough. “That’s not even a question.”
Then he pulls me in.
His arms come around me, strong and sure, and my world narrows to heat and scent and the steady, grounding thud of his heart against mine.
His mouth comes down on mine—hungry, reverent, like he’s been waiting all day just for this.
Flame sparks at the edges of my awareness, a soft shimmer against my skin. The air around us warms, then flares.
Our clothes vanish in a whisper of heat and ash, his magic stripping us bare in the span of a heartbeat.
I gasp against his lips, laughing breathlessly. “Show-off,” I murmur.
“For you?” he growls, lifting me into his arms like I weigh nothing at all. “Always.”
He carries me inside, the door swinging shut behind us. The world outside—the SoulTakers, Idris, the multiverse of dreams—falls away.
It’s just him and me.
Bronze and soft. Fire and flesh. Lord and viyella.
We fall into our bed, into each other, into a rhythm that is ours alone—familiar now and still somehow brand new every single time. So easy. So right. So devastating I swear my heart is learning a new way to beat just to keep up with him.
