Page 12 of Where Exorcists Cannot Lie

Exhausted and flustered by the events of the night, I had no energy left to resist what I knew to be a terrible idea. But what was I to do? Skin-to-skin contact conducted heat in a more efficient way than any additional bedcover could. So I took off my clothes and climbed into the bed to keep my eejit of an ex-lover from chipping his molars during the night.

3

Reunion

Islept great, all things considered, not stirring once until dawn. Upon rousing, I contemplated the pleasant heat radiating behind me.

Inuel clung to my back, not allowing even a sliver of space to separate us. His arm rested across my side, his hand anchored onto my hip joint.

The familiar sensation of waking in his possessive grip gave me a morning boner faster than I remembered I hated the bastard, body and soul. If he even had the latter.

I sneaked out of bed, relieved Inuel remained dreambound. I didn’t expect him to be up for a few good hours yet. A strong charm-killer could knock one out, all right. Besides, the longer he slept, the quicker he would heal.

His slumber suited me all the more, given I didn’t feel prepared to face him yet. The prospect of having a conversation with Inuel tied my guts in knots. On the other hand, though, I wanted to bite his head off. But anxious and angry never made a good combination in my case. I appreciated some alone time to come to terms with the circumstances.

I started my day by hauling water from the well outside and having a wash. The smell of rosemary soap on my skin and a fresh change of grey robes did wonders in clearing my head. I brushed my hair and managed to fashion a long, loose braid out of my brown mop.

My growling stomach needed sorting out next. The gnawing sensation in my belly stood testimony that I hadn’t eaten a proper cooked meal in almost two days.

I wasted no time inspecting the larder. My findings had me moaning in delight. I wouldn’t starve, that much was clear. The Guild of Magic tended to look after their own—plus, well, the occasional stray demon. A quick raid of the orchard, vegetable patch and chicken coop also proved fruitful.

Late morning found me stuffed to the gills and otherwise filled with satisfaction at a job well done. The evidence of my labour rested on the counter—two loaves of buckwheat bread and a pyramid of warm almond scones. Not to mention the trio of pots brimming with creamy potato and leek soup, spiced apple porridge, and chicory coffee I had going on the stove.

I’d forgotten how daily functioning without resorting to Magic made every activity so much harder and lengthier. Simple things, like building a fire or heating the water, took ages when done the traditional way. Hard work they were, too. Different to snapping your fingers and having things pop into the right places. Or adjusting their temperature with an incantation alone.

However, I’d enjoyed the cooking and baking that morning. It relaxed me. When I thought about it, I’d stopped engaging in such pastimes after Inuel had left. Thereafter, I’d worked all hours and lacked both time and inclination for anything else. Besides, making all that effort just for one person had seemed a waste. So I’d eaten in taverns for the past two years.

After a bit of stalling, I gathered enough courage to crack open the door to Inuel’s bedroom. Only after verifying he was still deep in his slumber did I slip inside.

I placed a jug of warm water on the washstand next to the basin and a mug of coffee on the bedside table. At last, I faced the sleeper, my heart all of a flutter.

I’m just conducting a well-being check, nothing more.

Inuel had thrown the covers aside, which suggested his fever must’ve broken. His colouring had improved, too. Once I cast my eyes over his naked body, I couldn’t avert my gaze.

Cheeks burning, I had to admit neither our separation nor the realisation Inuel was an absolute prick had made me immune to his charms.

Damn. Fast asleep or not, Inuel presented as the finest specimen of an Alpha Demon in his prime. His tattooed, hard-muscled and insanely defined form consisted of a slim waist, long legs and broad shoulders. The bastard fit my type to the rune.

Inuel turned on his side all of a sudden, which snapped me out of my daze. I took off at high speed, petrified at the notion of being caught staring at him like a blushing maiden—plus the raging hardon.

Back in the kitchen, I devoted a moment to meditation. In a further bid to calm my nerves, I reached for the newest picture scroll I’d bought in the last town I’d passed on my journey. It proved a good choice in terms of a solid plot and stunning art. And for a while, I forgot my surroundings.

My giggles came to an abrupt halt when Inuel cropped up across the table from me—barefoot, shirt open, his linen trousers sitting low on his hip bones. He gave me a right start.

I lifted my head to meet his gaze. I would still see it in my dreams at times: lustrous grey with little speckles of blue around the pupils, set off by the dark of his eyebrows and lashes. It didn’t escape my notice how much his hair had grown, now reaching past his pelvis. It still had that same silky shine. I used to love threading my fingers through it.

His appearance decomposed me in a heartbeat. It irked me no end that even in the wake of a severe grudge curse, with black circles underneath his eyes, he managed to retain the look of an immortal who had descended from the heavens.

After all that had happened between us, I still swallowed my tongue at the sight of him. Did my stupidity know no bounds? Choked by embarrassment and irritation, I scowled, my hands balling into fists.

Everything about Inuel shouted alpha—the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, the way he’d been in bed. Yet right then, he rubbed his face, void of his trademark confident smirk, and shifted from side to side like a person unsure of his footing, acting very un-alpha-like. “Morning,” he said after clearing his throat, waving the empty mug, which he put on the tabletop. “Thank you for—”

“Morning,” I barked. “That’s quite all right.”

Only no, nothing was even a tiny bit all right. And didn’t we both know it.

Inuel flinched, in continuation of his out-of-character behaviour. A strange emotion crossed his face. One I’d never seen on him before. If it didn’t sound insane, I’d categorise it as…hurt?

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