Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Fury unlike I’ve ever known surges through me. “I respect you and what you’re doing here, but if you attempt to remove Grace from my home, I will cut you into tiny pieces and scatter you to the winds.”
Curiosity twines with their worry. “Fascinating. I expected most of your determination to be sheer stubbornness, but you genuinely have a connection with this human.” They give themself a shake. “Very well. I’ll be back at some point in the near future to check on the status of things. I highly recommend you tell her the truth. The full truth. She might surprise you.”
“What does it matter if I be the one to tell her?”
“Trust me. It does.”
That means less than nothing to me. “Goodbye, Ramanu.” I wait for them to teleport out before turning and walking back toward the staircase. It’s easy for them to give advice when they’re not in the midst of this. Not the way I am. Not the way Grace is.
I never would’ve chosen the way things fell out last night, not if I hadn’t lost control. But the fact remains that Grace could have killed me and put an end to it . . . and she chose not to. I’m sure she had her reasons—I’m not naive enough to think that pure desire drove her—but I read her emotions, and desire was at the forefront in the bath last night.
I’ve already told her more about my family than I would’ve told a new acquaintance. She knows they’re gone, and Ramanu disclosed plenty of the rest just now. What does it matter that the reason they’re dead is because a human murdered them? That I didn’t help them because I was too afraid? There’s no reason to take a deep dive into my past trauma. It won’t solve anything, and if she looks at me with pity or disgust, that might be the thing that finally breaks me.
Better to focus on the future.
Footsteps bring my head up in time to see Grace descending the stairs, a stubborn look on her face. I don’t know what it says about me that I welcome the coming confrontation. I hold perfectly still and wait for her to reach me. It doesn’t take long.
She stops several steps above me, leaving our faces almost even. “I think we got off to the wrong start.”
That startles a laugh out of me. “What gave that impression?”
“I have no desire to fight you every day through the next seven years.” She narrows her eyes at me, and I get that distinct impression that she’s trying to read me. “I won’t say I’m not sympathetic to your situation, but under no circumstances am I having a child with you that I will leave in the demon realm.”
Seven years gives me a long time to change her mind, but I get the feeling there’s no changing the resolve coming off her in waves. That should be enough for me to take Azazel up on his offer to switch out Grace for another human who would be more accommodating. It’s the smart thing to do. The action that will further my goals and get me out of this desperate situation.
I . . . don’t want to.
“I’ll get the birth control pendant for you today and explain how it works.” I study her just as closely as she’s studying me. “But I’m not going to stop trying to convince you to see things my way.”
She flares a bright pink before she gets herself under control. My Grace seems to like the battle just as much as I’m starting to. I don’t understand it. Up until this point, all my encounters with lovers had been soft, caring. At least until what happened to my family ensured I had no partners to choose from. There was never this fury, this willingness to draw a line and then promptly step over it in the name of dominance.
I don’t know what it says about me that I crave it. I am actively looking forward to the next time Grace tries to slip away from me, to tracking her down and bringing her back, to the battle that will undoubtably play out in my bed.
“I’ll gut you before I let that happen.”
“Promises, promises.” Though I get a perverse amount of enjoyment out of verbally sparring with this woman, I take a slow step back and lower my wings. Whether I’m enjoying it or not, we can’t exist in a state of constant battle. The longer we bicker, the greater the chance of her storming off. I’m not ready to be alone again. “Are you hungry?”
She opens her mouth as if caught in the momentum of the argument but pauses when she seems to process what I just asked her. “I could eat.”
“Let’s see what Silas has put together for breakfast.” I pivot and offer her my arm. I’m quietly pleased when she gives me a sharp look but slips her hand into the crook of my elbow. “The formal dining room is mostly for show. Unless you prefer it, I usually take my breakfasts and lunches in the kitchen.”