“That seems dangerous.”
“For who?” I ask.
Her lips twitch faintly.
“For everyone else.”
The bond warms between us at the quiet humor in her voice. And since the window shattered, the tension in the cottage dissolves into something far softer than fear.
11
ELOWEN
Iwake slowly, the kind of gradual return to consciousness that usually follows a night of uninterrupted sleep.
For a moment I lie still beneath the blankets, blinking at the soft morning light filtering through the repaired window frame, confused by the unfamiliar sense of calm resting in my chest. The bond is quiet, warm rather than restless, like embers buried safely beneath ash.
Then memory returns. The broken glass. The stone. The hell-born flame. And the demon currently sleeping on my couch.
My gaze drifts across the small cottage until it finds him stretched along the length of the narrow sofa near the hearth. He is far too large for the piece of furniture, his long legs angled awkwardly over the armrest and one massive wing folded partially across the back as though even in sleep it refuses to fully retreat.
I push myself upright against the pillows, studying him carefully.
Threxian had insisted he did not require sleep the way mortals do, yet sometime before dawn the tension in the roommust have eased enough that even a wrath demon allowed himself a moment of rest.
In the softer light of morning, his presence seems different. Less terrifying. More… tangible.
His skin still carries the faint ember-like glow beneath the onyx surface, and the horns sweeping back from his temples give his profile a dangerous edge that would make most villagers flee in terror. Yet there is a strange stillness to him while he sleeps, a quiet strength in the broad line of his shoulders and the relaxed curve of his hands resting loosely against his chest.
Strong. The thought arrives uninvited. Strong and undeniably handsome not under mortal standards, but his beauty has everything to do with raw presence and confidence. Even at rest he looks powerful enough to tear the world apart if something provoked him.
Which, if recent events are any indication, is not entirely inaccurate. My gaze lingers a moment longer before I realize what I am doing. I am staring, and enjoying it.
The realization sends a faint warmth creeping into my cheeks. Before I can decide whether that is embarrassing or merely inconvenient, his eyes open.
They meet mine instantly.
“Well,” Threxian says, his voice still rough with sleep despite the faint amusement already curling through it. “Good morning, princess.”
I straighten quickly.
“I wasn’t staring.”
His brow lifts slowly.
“You were absolutely staring.”
“I was observing.”
“Ah,” he murmurs, sitting up with the lazy confidence of someone entirely aware of the effect he has on a room. “A scientific study, then.”
“Something like that.”
He stretches, wings shifting slightly behind him as the movement draws my attention unwillingly to the strength in his shoulders.
“Did your research yield any interesting conclusions?” he asks.
“Yes.”
