He steps closer and I tense. When he settles on the bed next to me, I lean away from him. I still don't understand why he's here—why he stuck around. He didn't have to check on me. He didn't have to go to the store for me. He didn't have to do any of this. All I've done to repay him is snap at him and give him a halfhearted thanks.
Tears well up in my eyes, and I glance away. I fucking hate feeling like I don't know my own emotions. I want to be pissed at him. I want to be left alone. I want to be held and told everything will be fine. I want to be fed a pint of ice cream. I don't know what I want.
“Hey,” he whispers. His hand slides along my cheek and turns me towards him. “I shouldn't have said that. I apologize. I meant I don't blame you for being in a shitty mood. The last time I was hurt, I was in the worst mood and had no one there to bitch at. I wish someone would have taken my bullshit.”
I sniff. “Where was Dimitri?”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “He was worse off than I was. I couldn't complain to him.”
“I didn't think demons got hurt. Aren't you, like, indestructible?”
His hand drops from my face and disappointment lances through me. “I think you're mistaking indestructible with immortal. Neither of which we are, actually. But that's a conversation for another time. What do you need right now?”
I search my mind, trying to find one thing I can ask him for that won't be too much of a burden. I should tell him I'm fine and there's nothing he can do. Except I'm so tired of doing everything alone. My family is gone and my friends are off living their own lives. I want a companion.
I doubt Omen would choose me, even if sex wasn't on the table, but he's here now and he hasn't run yet. In fact, he rantome. He could have skipped out and he didn't. For now, he chose me and that's enough.
“Will you just stay until I fall asleep?” Having him here might be enough. “But wake me up when you go. Just enough so I'm not freaked out if I wake up later and find out you're gone.”
His brows pull low and I brace myself for him to deny me. If he walks away, I'll let him go without a fight. I'll take therejection like I do everyone else's, with poise and silence. I'll vow to never summon him again, no matter how many sauce jars I need opened. It takes everything in me not to tell him it's fine and he can go. Instead, I wait patiently for him to poof out of existence.
He pats the pillow behind me, and I sink onto my back. My lip ends up between my teeth, and he scowls until I stop. After he's tucked me in, he pushes to his feet and my eyes slam closed. No use watching him leave and maybe I'll be able to hide the shame flooding my system.
“Move over,” he grunts, and my lids fly open.
I scoot toward the side of the bed and he slides in next to me. He radiates heat, and I desperately want to press my body to his. Except I'm not weird like that. Other ways, sure, but not that. I flip to my side, my back facing him. My efforts are for naught. His arm slips around my waist and he tugs me close to him. Instantly, my lids droop and my muscles relax. Even my cramps ease into the background and my headache vanishes.
A sigh leaves me and I slide into dreamland, telling myself I'll ask him if he's a healer later.
Clara's breath evens out and I let out a sigh. I can't relax, though. I'm desperately trying to keep my hips away from her ass. She definitely doesn't need to wake up with my hard cock poking her back. It's not like I can just will my erection away, especially with her body pressed against mine. She has no idea what she's doing to me. I don't blame her.
From what Dimitri told me, periods aren't fun. He went off on a tangent about different levels of pain and how some don't get it that bad. I tuned him out, then popped topside when he was mid-sentence.
A shudder runs through me when I remember my time at the store. The lights were too bright, the choices too many, and the workers gave me a wide berth. I wasn't surprised. Even with a mask over my features, humans have enough sense to steer clear of a demon. Which meant I wandered around forever trying to find everything. I stood in front of the boxes of tampons for much too long. I overheard one woman say some of them werepads. That was about the time I started filling the cart with one of everything. Some of them didn't make sense to me—the cups, the vibrator, the test. They were all next to each other on the shelves, though, so I just got it all. Minus the ones that looked like fake cocks. I never thought I'd be jealous of a piece of what looked like rubber, but here we are.
Clara mumbles in her sleep, and I tighten my grip on her. I shush her, my lips brushing her temple. She settles and my chest aches, though I don't know why. Or maybe I'm just not ready to admit it.
I close my eyes, attempting to sleep. Every time Clara shifts, my eyes snap open. She turns in my arms and tucks her head under my chin. My hand rests on her lower back and she moans. I swallow hard and bury my nose in her hair. I should leave or at least retreat to the chair in the corner of her room. Instead of listening to my better judgment, I pull her closer.
Hours pass, marked only by the moon marching across the dark hardwood floors. My lids droop and I float between waking and sleeping. Every shift of her body snaps me awake.
“This is all Dimitri's fault,” I say under my breath.
The air around me thickens and my nostrils flare. My gaze skips around the room, waiting for something to jump out of the dark corners. My shadows envelop Clara, hiding her from the threat stalking us.
My growl rumbles through the room as Dimitri's grinning face steps out of the blackness. He isn't fazed by my obvious displeasure, merely waving away my shadows so he can get a clear view of Clara. He's powerful enough to walk through my magic. I always thought it was helpful, but now I'm having second thoughts.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snarl.
“No idea. Haven't been summoned in a hot minute, but suddenly here I was. Thought your witch wanted a sexier demonto look at.” He grins as I glare daggers at him. “Oh, don't be like that. Such a grump. Ope, and possessive.”
“I'm not possessive,” I whisper harshly. “And keep your voice down.”
Gently, I ease away from Clara, and she reaches for me. I smooth her hair away from her forehead, and she tugs a pillow into her to replace me.
Dimitri sidles up next to me. “Jealous of a pillow? Don't blame you. She's cu?—”
I snatch his arm and march him out of her bedroom, down the hallway, and into the living room. I snap my fingers and a lamp in the corner flares to life. The desk I put together sits under the window looking out on the front lawn. She hasn't moved too much around, but enough to change the entire feel of the place. For some reason it pisses me off.
