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Wicked Abyss

Page 69

   


“The castle did this. I have no idea why. I’ll take it away again, but if the head continues to return, we must accept Graven’s will. . . .”
Rune said, “I can’t imagine a Sylvan female appreciating the wildness of hell.”
“In fact, she enjoys exploring the realm.” She loved everything new he showed her, but especially the animals.
One day when they’d been hiking through the steamy Stygian Marsh, he’d sensed a litter of hellkittens nearby.
As their wary mother looked on, Calliope had cuddled the cannonball-size runt, stroking its red and silver pelt. The kitten had purred loudly, and a drop of drool had clung to one saber tooth. . . .
“I don’t suppose I could have this little guy?” Calliope asked.
She could have anything in this world she wanted. Still, he said, “You shouldn’t separate him from his litter.”
“Oh, of course.” She’d put the kitten back with the others, giving it a scratch and a look of longing.
“We will take all of them, mother and kittens alike—it’s not as if we can’t spare the room.”
Calliope had leapt up and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. He’d needed ever more of her, deepening the contact. Against his lips, she’d murmured, “Not in front of the kittens. But definitely somewhere, demon!”
As he’d gazed down at her bewitching face, he’d thought, I am so fucked if this ends.
Josephine said, “I see that look in your eyes. You’re done for. It’s the look this one”—she hiked her thumb at Rune—“sports twenty-four/seven. It’s getting embarrassing.”
The archer nodded. “Too true.”
Sometimes Sian had the urge to throw a wall up between himself and Calliope—anything to keep their bond from solidifying more. If his new existence with her was going to end, he needed the divide to happen now—not in a century or so, when his appearance had changed so drastically that she finally hit her limit.
Rune said, “I know you haven’t claimed your female yet, or you would’ve been bursting—pun intended—to talk about the experience. You’ll need to talk to someone. Trust me.”
“Trust him.” Josephine tossed her legs over the throne’s armrest, the first to sit there.
Sian had had no choice but to separate Calliope from his demon subjects. He didn’t anticipate any danger, but she wouldn’t be fully protected until she wore his mark. “I’m in no rush.”
“Liar.” Rune filched a flask of demon brew from a jacket pocket and raised it in offer to Josephine.
Her expression said, You’ve gotta be kidding.
Rune took a pull, then tossed it to Sian.
He caught it and swigged. “Do I imagine what it would be like to claim my mate? Constantly.” Despite the devastating pleasure they’d been sharing.
She was open to anything. Earlier today, they’d relaxed on a blanket at the beach, lounging naked in the sun. His mind had wandered, wicked fantasies arising.
He’d realized there was nothing to stop him from taking a taste of his mate.
Without a word, he’d lifted her to straddle his face. After a hesitation, she’d gotten caught up. Her fists had moved on his horns, jacking him as she’d shamelessly ground against his mouth. She’d screamed, climaxing right upon his lips.
And his mate was all too happy to reciprocate, using her life-altering little tongue to render him mindless.
Just when he swore their bedsport couldn’t possibly get hotter—quite a thing for the king of hell to think—they would reach new heights. Yet at no time had she said those four words: Will you claim me? “But I also imagine a future with her.” Sian coveted what Rune and Josephine had. “I won’t push Calliope before she’s ready.”
Rune plucked his bowstring. “Gods, man, you really do like her.”
When Sian nodded, Rune and Josephine both raised their brows, waiting for more.
He exhaled. “Can’t stop looking at her. Or touching her.” If he could take relationship advice from a dragon, he could be forthcoming about his feelings. “I watch her when she sleeps and dreams. The sound of her laughter makes my wings unfurl, like I’m godsdamned flying.” He scrubbed his palm over his face. “When we talk into the night, I get to see inside her dazzling mind, and I can never get enough.”
Tough-talking Josephine sighed. “How did your girl react when you told her about the hell-change?”
Sian took a drink. “Haven’t told her.” Not only was he selfishly keeping the curse a secret, he’d been taking out his frustration on her.
Yesterday, he’d asked what kind of tattoo she’d make him get once he marked her.
“No tattoos for you.” She kissed one of his glyphs. “I would never change a single inch of this skin.”
Body gone tense, he drew back, cursing his future.
She blinked at him. “Did I say something wrong?” When he didn’t answer, she muttered, “Moodiest male . . .”
“I wanted Calliope to feel more for me before I revealed that.” Sian believed her attachment grew, but he also suspected something was holding her back.
“No offense, demon, but she’s going to know soon.” Josephine tilted her head. “I can already see a difference from the last time we stopped by.”
Truly? Their previous visit had been only a couple of months before Calliope’s arrival here! “I will tell her soon.”
“I wouldn’t sweat it. She married you, so obviously looks”—the halfling gestured to him with a careless wave—“aren’t that important to her.”
Sian scowled. “She likes my looks.” Whenever Calliope gazed up at him from under her lashes, he could feel her attraction to him—and her growing possessiveness. The proprietary light in her eyes made him stand taller. Made his cock harder than stone.
To his surprise, she couldn’t keep her hands off him. The more she explored his body—and she adored exploring it—the more aroused she grew by his form. “But not for long.”
How much time do I have before she doesn’t even recognize me? Would he recognize himself? Even now the low hum along his spine, that engine inside him, roiled on.
“It doesn’t matter what you look like,” Rune said. “You’re still my brother. Win her over, and she’ll be just as loyal.”