Page 81 of Unleashing Chaos

I dance in my seat and take the treat from him. “Ooh, you really do know what I like.”

He shrugs it off with a smile.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to spend my life with a friend. Cannon is sensitive to my needs and always goes out of his way for me. I like to think I offer him some of that same emotional support. It isn’t the happily ever after I wanted but it could be a satisfying ending.

“Cannon?”

“Yeah?” he asks, not looking at me, but scrolling through his phone while sipping his hot cocoa.

“I need to talk to you about something, and it’s really—” I inhale a sharp, shaky breath, and Cannon’s head instantly jerks up, his eyes wide with concern. “It’s really important.”

Slipping his phone into his pocket, he sets his cup on the table next to the swing and turns his body toward mine. “What is it, Desi? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry I scared you, I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous? Why? It’s me. You don’t need to be nervous.”

A giggle escapes my throat and I slide my stocking cap off my head, suddenly burning up. Wiping away the sheen of sweat that’s appeared on my brow, I say, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Were you lying earlier? Have you been out practicing your archery on small animals?”

“No!”

He pats my hand where it rests on my thigh. “Then you shouldn’t be nervous. Nothing you can say will end our friendship. In fact, I wasn’t so sure you and I would get along when I first met you. I thought we were too different. But here we are, finding common ground. So trust me when I say what I feel for you is genuine and not going to change.”

I close my eyes and grab his hand before he can move it, gripping his fingers in mine. “Even if I told you I’m not exactly who you think I am?”

“What do you mean you’re not who I think you are? You’re not Desideria—” He stops short and his brows dip like he’s thinking hard about something. “Wait . . . what is your last name?”

“Ironically, that’s a great question and an excellent lead-in to this conversation.” He just stares at me blankly, so I forge on. “I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have a last name?” he asks, his expression perplexed yet intrigued.

I shake my head. “I—I’m not exactly . . . human, Cannon.”

He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and nods. There isn’t exactly panic in his eyes. I get more of the sense that he’s waiting for the punch line to the joke, or maybe he’s thinking it over. To be honest, it’s impossible to read him right now. But he isn’t running away, so that’s a good sign.

“If you’re not human, then what are you?”

I look down at my lap for a moment before meeting his intense stare. I ask him the same question I asked Jace when he caught me levitating household items that night. “Do you believe in angels and demons?”

“I do,” he answers without hesitation.

“Well, then maybe you’ll have no trouble believing that they can be right here in front of you, and not just in some alternate universe. I’m a demon, Cannon.”

He laughs so loudly that people around us stop what they’re doing to look our way. “I get it. I really do. You tend to find trouble and get everyone a little worked up. But it’s very hard for me to believe you’re an actual demon.”

“Jace didn’t believe it either,” I grumble. “I had to prove it to him. Do you want that too?”

“What have you got? Are you going to sprout horns or maybe set loose a deadly plague?” I can’t help but laugh. He seems excited about the second option, which I can’t do.

“I can’t do either of those. I don’t have horns because I’m what’s called a High Demon—my father is the king of Demons, otherwise known as Chaos. I’m a princess . . . of Sloth, actually.” I don’t stop to let him ask questions. “My power is basically used to make things as easy as possible.”

I glance around to make sure no one is looking, and when I see no one is paying attention to us, I lift my hand and reach toward his cup of hot cocoa. It lifts from the tabletop and sails right into my open hand. “Here you go,” I say, offering it to him.

Cannon glances back and forth between me and the table. “No way. Do it again.”

I float the cup back to the table, and end with a shrug.

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