Page 82 of Gift for a Demon

“It’s just dried blood.”

That was the wrong thing to say, too. Melchom would have gone back in time if it was possible. Then again, that heated glare and contained huff was…

Everything.

“Why are you smiling?” Dove punched him on the chest. “And what do you mean it’s just dried blood? I want it off.”

Melchom grinned wider. “I’ll draw you a bath.”

The offer wasn’t one his Dove had been expecting. Melchom hadn’t appreciated until now how visceral Dove’s reactions were or how expressive he was at all times, whether it was because something pleased him or caused the opposite reaction.

He had his human back. He was going to take care of him, pamper him until he couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt happier. Or safer. Or healthier.

Melchom would make sure of it, would do anything to make it happen.

“W-wait.” His Dove’s chin started wobbling before he could leave the bed. “Is it real? Everything I saw?”

“Yes.”

“So… I wasn’t enough for Jordan. Why did I wake up, then?”

Dove looked so lost as he posed the question and waited for an answer. Melchom didn’t have one for him and hated himself a little more for it.

“Seeing Jordan wasn’t about reassuring yourself that you were loved.” You already know you are. Melchom kept that tidbit of knowledge to himself. “It was about freeing all the energy your brain was wasting on trying to understand.”

Dove took his words in, his reactions sluggish. Melchom had to remind himself it was to be expected. Humans called it brain fog after an almost catatonic state. It would be fine. Melchom wasn’t failing—not again.

“But why wasn’t I enough?”

Melchom burned with the need to avenge his human for that. He had to squash it down, though. For now. “Come with me, tiny Dove.” He sensed the human’s hesitation when he wasn’t given a straight answer.

Dove still took his hand, though, and let himself be carried to their new bathroom. To be exact, he clung to him like an octopus and refused to look up from where his face was buried against Melchom’s chest.

The demon guessed he should feel compassion, or maybe tenderness. Amusement at his human’s antics.

There was a bit of that, but he mostly felt possessive. It fueled him to hold him tighter, to promise once again that no one would ever lay a hand on what was his.

He didn’t coax the human out of his hiding space. He just walked into the jacuzzi all Kings and Princes had in their bathrooms and started the water. He took off the human’s clothes, discarding them on the floor. It had been a cute bodysuit, but Melchom had no interest in salvaging it.

It had been a long time since he’d last felt those jets working the strained muscles in his back. Melchom sighed. It was a good feeling. He’d taken for granted the luxuries his human didn’t hesitate to demand out of him at any given chance.

“It’s a jacuzzi?” Dove glanced up shyly, eyes full of worry and wonder in equal parts.

“Only a jacuzzi is fit for a King.”

“Your crown is beautiful.”

Melchom preened. It didn’t matter that Dove’s filter wasn’t fully turned on yet. In fact, that made it better.

“I healed your body,” he said. “There’s not a single reminder in it of Astaroth’s arrogance.”

Dove nodded. “You’re not like him. Like them.”

Melchom’s head cocked to the side as his hands started massaging the knots in his back. “What do you mean?”

The human nibbled on his bottom lip, but Melchom stopped him, not wanting to see more blood on him today.

It was enough that the water in the tub browned with the dried blood before it was pulled down the drain.

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