He was afraid. All these centuries, he’d known exactly who and what he was. No goals. No ambition. Just hedonistic pleasure.
It’d been a good life. He’d treasured every heartbeat of it.
Until he’d been tossed out.
The anger and rage of it still simmered inside. But in the few days since he’d met Sorcha, that rage had quieted. Not completely gone, but it no longer controlled him.
And he enjoyed that quiet.
He enjoyed spending time with her.
What is wrong with me? I’m a prince of Hell.
And she was…
He still didn’t know. Any more than he knew who had done this to him.
His mother emerged from the portal.
“What took you so long?” he asked.
“Loose ends.”
He winced at her tone. “Is the queen dead?”
“No. She even retains all her body parts. But she will never trespass on you again. I made sure of it.”
For that, he was truly grateful. “Thank you.”
She closed the distance between them and buried her hand in his hair. With a gentle ferocity, she pulled his head until their foreheads touched. “You are mine, Xynzara. No one will harm you without my wrath.”
Even my father? He bit back that question because at the end of the day, he wasn’t sure if she’d choose him or not. And he didn’t want to test her.
“It’s ever my honor to call your mother.”
She smiled, then placed a tender kiss on his forehead. “I will bring you home. Faith, child.”
“I have never doubted you.”
She glanced to Helly. “Guard him, Imp.”
“Always, domina.”
Then she was gone.
Luke stood in the darkness, listening to the whisper of people speaking and the serenade of cicadas. A light breeze brushed against his arms and instead of the freezing kiss he was used to, it warmed him.
I am changing.
And a part of him actually liked it.
“Luke?”
He drew a ragged sigh at the sound of Sorcha’s call. All his life, he’d prided himself on never answering to anyone’s command. Not even his mother’s.
Especially not his father’s.
Yet he headed for Sorcha and into a most uncertain future with a partner who baffled him.
