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“Don't fucking tease me about that, Sweet.”

“Who's teasing?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

I stare at her. She stares right back.

And for the first time since I realized what she is to me, hearing promised doesn't make her angry.

I don't dare call that acceptance.

Not yet.

But it means something. My confession meant something.

The wards.

The work.

The fact that I finally stopped trying to decide what was best for her and started letting her decide for herself.

Maybe she's beginning to trust me again.

Maybe she's beginning to accept the bond.

Maybe—don't push.

Right. For once, my Devil and I agree.

I lift my hand and cup her cheek.

“Still sure?”

Her expression softens. Then she turns her face and presses a kiss into my palm.

“Damian.”

One word.

My fucking name.

But the way she says it?

There's my answer.

I don't hesitate again. I wrap her in my arms.

She comes willingly, her body fitting against mine as if this is exactly where she wants to be. Our magic flares the instant my lips meet hers.

Gold.

Red.

Heat and light twisting around us.

Belinda laughs softly against my mouth when the air begins to shimmer. I pull back just enough to look into her eyes.

“Hold on to me, Sweet.”