To Win a Demon's Love

by Nadine Mutas

  “I’m sorry,” Lily croaked. “Mom, I’m so sorry.” Tears spilled over, ran down her cheeks, hot and guilty.

  “My baby,” Hazel whispered, then drew her into a hug over Alek’s body.

  Her mother’s warmth enfolded her, soothed parts of her soul that had been sliced and splintered, mended them with a power so different from what she’d used on Alek, and yet no less potent. Love, Lily thought, is a magic all its own.

  Sobbing into her mom’s shoulder, she released all the anger, shame, grief, and shattered hope, found a calm place beneath, a place that let her breathe.

  “What I did to Baz…” she began after they finally separated.

  “…is something you should release. It’s past time you let it go.” Her mom’s eyes shimmered with moisture. “Enough now, Lily. You’ve apologized enough for something that was not your fault.”

  She was silent for a moment. “I’ll miss it,” she said quietly. “Being a witch.”

  “I know.” Hazel caressed her cheek, face soft with wistfulness. “But you’ll be fine, honey. You always have been, always will be. Being a witch does not define you.” She tapped Lily’s chest. “This here does.”

  Lily sniffed. “My bountiful bosom?”

  Her mom huffed a small laugh. “Your heart, silly. Who you are in here doesn’t change, no matter what species you are.”

  “Thank you, Mom.” She swallowed hard, trying not to let her voice break again. “Maybe—maybe Basil’s kids can carry on the line.”

  Something flickered in the dark of her mom’s gaze, there and gone so quickly, it might have been a trick of the light. “We’ll see, baby.”

  Chapter 27

  Sounds and light filtered through the darkness blanketing Alek’s mind. His thoughts disentangling from a web of images and sensations, he became aware of his current surroundings. A pillow beneath his head, a mattress underneath his back, a soft sheet covering him.

  And two warm bodies pressed against his own.

  Eyes flying open to semi-darkness, he looked to his legs, where Grant snored softly, snuggled up to him. Alek turned his head, silky black curls brushing against his jaw. The scent of lush flowers and rain teased his nose, let him draw in a breath that threatened to burst his lungs.

  Lily.

  Her head resting on his shoulder, hands tucked between their bodies, she lay curled against him, one leg thrown over his. Eyes closed, her black lashes fanned out over her cheeks. Even though he hated to disturb her sleep, he couldn’t help brushing a lock of her midnight hair from her face, his fingers lingering on skin so soft, it was a caress to touch it.

  His heart expanded, filled to the brim with tenderness.

  “You’re awake,” she murmured a second before she opened her luminous indigo eyes, meeting his in the gloom of the bedroom.

  “How long was I out?” Even to his own ears, his voice scraped the bottom of a gravel pit. Yikes.

  But Lily’s lips curved up ever so slightly, her aura shimmering with appreciation. “Sexy.”

  “If I’d known you’d find a fucked-up voice so attractive, I would have made sure I was knocked out more often.”

  The smile on her lips died, her eyes taking on a haunted sheen, and he could have kicked himself for putting that look on her face. “You’ve been unconscious for the rest of the night and the following day. It’s night now.”

  He’d guessed as much from his active demon senses and the quality of the light. “Tell me the rest of what happened.”

  The sheet slid down as she sat up, revealing a simple black tank top. “What do you remember?”

  “The sword fight, pain…your eyes in the dark…” He brushed his thumb over her cheek.

  Turning into his caress for a second, she then cleared her throat. “Well, my mom got there just in time and healed you, at least to the point where your body can do the rest. Rhun and Basil helped carry you out, and I told them to bring you here. Grant and I have been holed up with you for the day. He hasn’t left your side.” Her face softened while she leaned over to stroke the dog.

  He smiled at his beloved companion of fifteen years. “Thanks, buddy,” he said softly.

  Grant’s ears twitched, and though his eyes remained closed, his tail thumped once.

  “What about the other duhokrads?” he asked, looking back at Lily.

  “All dead or accounted for.” Grim satisfaction laced her words. “From what Sarai told us, and what we’ve gotten out of the fucker she was forced to mate, the whole thing was Seth’s—Aveline’s dead mate’s—idea. He solicited like-minded duhokrad males who were looking for mates, they snatched the first witch—Marianne—and bled her dry, then mixed her blood with that of a duhokrad and did some fucked-up, crazy lab stuff with it that’s basically dark blood magic on steroids. The result was the serum. They had to adjust the recipe twice, since the next two witches they kidnapped died after being injected.” Her eyes glittered with fury.

  So many lives lost… He twined his fingers with hers, stroked his thumb over the soft patch of skin between her thumb and index finger. “Bastards are dead now,” he said, his voice rough due to more than his long unconsciousness. “They can’t ever do that shit again.”

  “Yeah. No one can. Except for Sarai’s bastard of a mate, who’s locked up tight in our dungeon, none of them survived to tell the tale, and the house with the lab equipment is less than rubble.”

  He raised his brows. “You burned it down?”

  “Not us.” A line creased her forehead. “My mom and Merle were still clearing the perimeter after we’d gotten out when the whole building was wiped out as if someone had detonated a specifically targeted, very contained nuclear bomb. My mom said they didn’t see anyone come or go, but the razed ground fumes with ancient magic as she’s never felt it.”

  “Strange.” While a part of him wanted to further explore that particular piece of information, he remembered something else. “What about Juneau and her witches?”

  “Yeah, that.” She sighed, picked at a bit of fluff on the sheet. “It’s been quiet, but it’s only a matter of time before she makes her next offensive move. She’s rallying her forces, so to speak. She called an impromptu Elder meeting without my mom and Merle, and basically declared them traitors and insurgents. About half of the Elders are backing her, but the other half followed Elaine—she’s head of the Donovan family—when she called Juneau a warmongering bitch and walked out of the meeting. Elaine went to my mom and told her. She’s siding with us, as are the other Elders and their families who walked out of the meeting.” She gave him a sad little smile. “The witch community has broken apart.”

  “Not just over you,” he said, squeezing her hand. “From what you and Merle said the other night, this has been a long time coming. It’s about more than your turning and what you did.”

  “I know.” A whisper laced with grief. “It still pains me.”

  “So,” he said after a moment, because he wanted to erase the hurt and sadness in her aura, needed to know the answer to the question in his heart. “I had a kind of interesting dream.”

  “Did you, now?”

  “Mhm.” He watched her closely. “I dreamed that as I lay dying, you said you loved me and promised you’d mate with me.”

  Color flooded her face. Intriguing, when she so rarely blushed. “That was real,” she whispered.

  His heart made a somersault in his chest. “Before I ask you if you want to keep that promise,” he said, laying a finger on her lips when she was about to speak up, “I need you to see something.”

  Shoving his hand underneath the sheet, he wanted to pull the nymphenstern out of his pocket—only to find himself sans jeans. Sans anything, really, the sheet rustling over his naked hips and legs.

  Lily shot him a wicked grin, her attention on his hand that had patted his groin. “Oh, I’ve already seen that, but hey, I’d always love to take another, more thorough look.”

  His pulse thundered so loud, he barely noticed her quipping.
“Where are my pants?”

  “Ah, well.” Her brows furrowed, and she bit her lip. “There was so much blood on them, they were beyond saving.”

  His eyes widened. “You threw them out?”

  “Uh, yeah. Did you want to donate them? I don’t think Goodwill would take—oy, are you even healed enough to jump up like that?”

  He’d leapt off the bed and was on his way to the kitchen, hopping into a pair of sweat pants he’d snatched off his bedroom floor. His side and back twinged a little with every move, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Breath unsteady, he rummaged through the trash. No jeans in sight.

  He was about to dash outside to go through the garbage bin, when Lily’s voice halted him.

  “Looking for something?” It was the lilt in her tone that tipped him off.

  He turned slowly on his heels, faced a saucy little demon with a knowing smile.

  “You found the stone, didn’t you?” he asked.

  With a nod, she came closer. She wore nothing but a pair of black panties with her tank top, her long legs a visual delight as she stepped up to him. Raven curls tumbling about her shoulders, she tilted her head back to look into his eyes.

  “Where is it?”

  “With my mom and Merle. They’re brewing the reversal potion.”

  The pain was instantaneous, lancing his heart, shattering the last shreds of hope. He couldn’t breathe, his chest locked far more viciously than after the solar plexus hit she’d landed early in their courtship. Jaw clenched so tight he popped a muscle, he nodded, and turned away.

  He didn’t want her to see him break. Her happiness truly was more important than his own, and if this was what made her happy…

  “Alek.” Her quiet voice, threading around his shattering soul. Her hand on his arm, warm, comforting. “It’s not for me.”

  “What?” He glanced at her over his shoulder.

  “The potion…” Brilliant indigo eyes met his. “They’re not brewing it for me.”

  Understanding rushed into him, knocking the stalled breath out of his lungs as he fully faced her. “The other witch-turned-demon. The one we got out.”

  “Sarai.” She nodded, her lashes trembling. “She’ll be free again.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I don’t need it.” A whisper, a promise. “I don’t want it.” A vow.

  “I thought,” he said, his throat so dry it hurt, “turning back was your heart’s desire.”

  “I thought so too.” She rested her hand on his chest, over his thundering heartbeat. “It was what I should have wanted, what was logical. But you—” Her claws sliced out, pricked his skin in the most thrilling caress. “You blindsided me. In the best of ways. I never wanted any of the things you offered me—love, family, forever—but not because I didn’t truly desire them. I was too scared to let myself want them.” Her breath hitched. “I’m still scared.”

  He threaded his fingers through her hair, stroked behind her ear, down to the spot that made her shiver so adorably. “But…?”

  Her throat worked on a swallow. “There’s this poem I once read,” she said softly, lowering her eyes, “by Erin Hanson. I didn’t get it, not until recently. Not until…” She sucked in air. “Well. It says, There is freedom waiting for you, On the breezes of the sky, And you ask ‘What if I fall?’ Oh but my darling, What if you fly?”

  Those candescent indigo eyes met his again, the full weight of her beauty hitting him hard. “When you lay dying…I realized I’d rather try, and fail, than never experience what it could be like to take that leap of faith and be with you. I want to believe that I can fly, more than I fear to fall. I want to have a lifetime with you.”

  “Lilichka,” he murmured, his other hand cradling her face as well, with the tender knowledge that he was holding the most precious thing in his life. “You’re the reason my heart beats. If you fall, I’ll catch you. Always.” Leaning in, he kissed her nose, her lips, the barest brush of breath on breath. “I won’t ever let you become complacent, or meek.” He smiled against her mouth. “I love your spunk too much, you know.”

  She exhaled on a soft laugh, her aura wrapping around him with such glowing love, he wanted to savor this moment forever.

  “I love you,” he said in between kisses that were hot, frantic, stirring embers of lust. “Mate with me.”

  Looping her arms around his neck, she bit his lower lip, licked over the sting. “Yes.” Her teeth grazed his tongue, her fingers playing with the hair on his nape. “How?”

  Blood having rushed enthusiastically south, he could barely form more than one-word sentences himself. She was his magnet, his hands unable to separate from her skin, stroking underneath her tank top, to the swell of her breasts, her hardened nipples. A sound of pure pleasure from his female—his—and it all but disintegrated his thoughts.

  “Alek,” she breathed.

  “Hm?” His lips on her throat, her scent sinking into him.

  “How?” Her claws nicking the skin on his shoulders, a thrilling incentive. “Need…to know…oh!”

  He’d slid his fingers into her panties, found her intimate folds, which were already wet with her desire. She moaned and bit his neck, shuddering against him as he brought her to an unexpected climax.

  He withdrew his hand, licked his fingers under her transfixed gaze. “You were saying?”

  Her lashes lowered and rose over eyes that were fireworks of red and black. “Tell me what I need to do,” she said, her voice deliciously languorous.

  Taking a deep breath to bring his racing pulse under control and focus, he stepped back, grabbed her hand, and tugged at her to follow him to his bedroom.

  “We need to exchange duh,” he said as he lay down on the mattress, pulling her on top of him.

  She went willingly, straddling his hips, the heat of her core pressing against the erection straining against his pants. He whipped his errant thoughts into shape so he could continue his instruction.

  Palms on her thighs, he said, “Only this time, it needs to go further. An exchange of both blood and breath. I drink a little of yours, you drink a little of mine, we breathe into each other—and you’ll feel a tug. That’s the bond trying to form.” His thumbs stroked over the inside of her thighs, up to the seams of her panties.

  Her breath hitched, her aura shimmering like the most beautiful kaleidoscope.

  “It won’t snap into place unless you want it,” he said, reining in his lust to finish his explanation. “That’s what’s needed for a mating. Blood, breath—”

  “—and desire.” She shifted her position, pressing a little harder against his aching cock. “Well, there won’t be an issue with the last part.”

  A corner of his mouth twitched up, and he slid his hands up to her hips, cradled her waist. “Ready?”

  Biting her lower lip, she nodded. He took one hand off her waist, pushed out a claw, and sliced a shallow cut over his heart. Blood welled out of the thin slash, the scent of iron tickling his nose. Holding his gaze, she leaned down, her hands on his shoulders, and licked at the gash.

  A grin took over his face. “You do need a little more.”

  One of her brows cocked up, and she grinned back. Closing her mouth over the cut, she sucked. A groan escaped him at the thrilling sensation of pleasure rolling all the way down to his balls. His dick twitched against her hot center, and he growled.

  “I need to feel you,” he said, ripping through the fabric of her panties with his claws. He yanked the annoying barrier from between their bodies, and after a few more slashes and some quick acrobatics, his pants rained down around them in shreds. He flipped them both before she could so much as squeak.

  “Alek!” she cried out as he entered her in one smooth thrust.

  Sensing her full, willing participation also evident in the deep streaks of pleasure in her aura, he wanted nothing more than to pump into her until she shattered around him. Still, he paused and asked, his lips on her throat. “Stop?”

  “Ne
ver.” The word, its meaning, reverberated through them both, touched places in him parched for her love. “You just surprised me.”

  He grinned and bit her earlobe. “Well, that’s good, then. Gotta keep you on your toes.”

  “Mhm.” Eyes sparking with fiery red on midnight, she lifted one hand to her throat, cut a line into the soft skin below her chin, careful not to nick her artery. “Your turn.”

  Not hesitating a second, he licked up the blood that was running down to the back of her neck, then closed his lips around the cut, and drew her essence into him. Her inner muscles clenched around him in rhythm with his pulls, and he rocked into her, the combined sensation of her heat around his cock and her duh flowing into him driving him mad with ecstasy.

  And it was only the beginning.

  He licked over the shallow wound on her throat, still moving inside her, and kissed his way up to her mouth.

  “Breath,” she whispered against his lips.

  “Breath,” he answered, and took her mouth in a bruising kiss. “Take mine first.”

  While their tongues tangled, she rolled her hips against his, meeting each of his thrusts, her hands on his ass, claws digging in. The nick of pain ratcheted up his arousal, and he pumped faster, harder. Despite the lust hijacking his brain, he managed to gather his duh, pull it up, and push it into her with his breath.

  She jerked when it hit her. Moaning deep in her throat, she drew it in, her aura bursting on a flash of pleasure. Her body undulated underneath him, against him, while she came, and he made sure to increase her enjoyment with long, hard thrusts.

  She broke their kiss, panting against his mouth. “Now you.” Her hand slid up his back, to his chest and up to his face, her fingers tender on his jaw. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

  Hell, yeah. He licked over her lower lip, sucked on it, and she opened to him with eagerness, an aphrodisiac all on its own. When she pushed her duh into him, it was liquid lust, and he drank as if dying of thirst.

  Then…a tug, a pull, a tenuous bond that snapped taut and strong between his heart and hers. The pleasure that had been building inside him, the buzzing pressure of mounting excitement, was released with a force that would have toppled him if he’d been standing. His climax raged through him, a storm of potent pleasure, breath and life, and just a little death.