“I’m thealwaysexpert, you’re theonly-in-this-caseexpert on fated mates.”
“Hell, I love you so much.” He lunged again, kissing my nose and cheeks and trying to tickle me.
“Stooop. I surrender.”
“You do, huh? What’s my reward?”
“I won’t kick you off the bed tonight?”
He sprang off me so fast I nearly lost it laughing.
“That was mean.”
“Did it work? It did.”
“Demons don’t influence you well,” he joked.
“Nah, you, my demon, influence me perfectly.”
He smiled, and we settled back, this time focusing on our main conversation.
“So, mates are fated," he began. "But just because they’re fated doesn’t mean one or both can’t reject the bond.”
“The bond?” I asked since the word caught my attention.
“Yes. There always was and always will be a bond between us. It connects both of us and-” he hesitated. Still, after a silent conversation with himself and a nod, he said, “And if we complete the bond, then nothing would ever be able to tear us apart.”
“What do we need to complete it?”
I could see the question surprised him. But seriously? In what world did he think I would not want to complete it? It's not every day you learn you have a fated mate.
It’s not every day I learn Dagon is my fated mate.
“There’s a ritual," he said. "But when we complete it… you'll become a demon, Di."
My eyes widened.
Me? A demon?
“Demons are immortal," he continued. "We stop aging at thirty. When we bond, you’ll become a demon and stop aging too. And you'd gain some of my powers.”
Wow, this was so much like some of the books I’d read.
He glanced at me, cautious. “We can wait. If you don’t want to be a demon, I'd still love you. Nothing would change that.”
“Stop. Of course, I want to complete our bond. Are you kidding me? This is like a book!”
“Oh, so you want to do it because it’s like a book?” Dagon smirked.
“Asshole,” I muttered, shoving him, but he only chuckled and wrapped me in a hug with a big smile on his face. “Of course, I want to complete it because I love you, Dagon.”
Kissing my forehead, he said, “Thank you.”
“So when are we doing it?”
Chuckling again, he stared at me, his expression sobering, “I want to give you time. I want you to think about it and be certain when we do it. We have time.”
But we don’t, a voice whispered in my mind. I tried to chase it away, but it wasn’t budging.
