Leander makes a cooing sound, and I subconsciously adjust him in my arms.
“Yes,” I say, louder now, like I'm drawing strength from my baby. “We won't let him or anyone else hurt our children.”
“I'll drink to that,” Lana says, raising her wine glass.
I give her a shaky smile. “So will I. If I ever stop breastfeeding. With how potent my man is, I'll likely be a teetotaler for a very long time.”
Even Ashtaroth cracks a small smile at my joke.
“The food is getting cold,” Az murmurs, squeezing my shoulder one last time before picking up his utensils.
I nod, standing up to return a dozing Leander back to the bassinet. Whatever the future will bring, right now we have to keep living.
42
ASMODEUS
Simone stands in front of the mirror in our dressing room, smoothing her hands down a dress of deep crimson silk that clings to every post-pregnancy curve I've spent months acquainting myself with. The neckline plunges low enough to make my mouth water, and the slit up her thigh shows off the long, elegant line of her leg.
“Stop staring,” she says without looking at me.
“Never.”
She rolls her eyes in the mirror, but the corner of her mouth tilts up. I cross the room to settle my hands on her hips, watching our reflection. I'm already dressed in black, my hair freshly slicked back. We look good together.
“Are you sure he'll be alright?” she asks, her gray eyes finding mine in the reflection.
“Leander will be under the protection of two angels and spoiled by your Nephilim friend,” I murmur in her ear.
Simone bites her lip. “What if he wakes up and wants me?”
“Then Jessica will sing him lullabies, Ithuriel will glow orsomething, and Sariel will teach him a curse word.” I press my lips to the curve of her shoulder. “And we will be a thought away.”
She laughs, her breath warm against my skin.
Here I am, pretending I'm not uneasy. It took weeks of negotiating with myself before I agreed to leave Leander with anyone for an entire evening. But Simone needs this.Weneed this. Three months of nothing but feedings and nappies and the occasional stolen tryst in rooms not built for lovemaking, and my consort looks like she needs to be reminded what she is to me.
“One night,” I murmur. “And then I deliver you back to our son.”
She turns in my arms, sliding her palms up my chest. “Where are we going? You haven't told me yet.”
I tilt my head, watching her face. “My larger Lethe estate.”
Her brows knit. “The one where?—”
“Yes.”
She blinks. “Az. Is there an?—”
“Yes.”
Her cheeks go red, and I have to suppress a grin. After more than three years with an archdemon who feeds on lust, she still blushes at the thought of an orgy.
“I'm not going to participate in?—”
“Neither am I.” I cup her chin, tipping her face up. “I have no interest in anyone but you, little fairy. I never will again.”
“Then why?—”
