Page 98 of The Devil and His Sparrow

I placed my hand on his jaw and turned his head back toward mine. “You are so much more than just a demon, Zagan. I don’t give a damn what you are. I’m grateful to have you in my life. I’m so sorry I said otherwise. If I could go back to that night when we got bound and change things, I wouldn’t. I’d make the same decision to end up right here with you.”

We stared at each other for a long time, both of us seeming to hold our breath with my words hanging between us. Again, I wasn’t sure what I was truly confessing, but it felt right saying them. If I knew then what I knew now, I’d still choose the same thing—because I’d choose Zagan.

Zagan’s arms wrapped around me, and he leaned me back so that I laid out on the comforter with him nestled between my legs, his dick still firmly inside me. My hand never left his cheek, and our eyes never wavered.

“Why?” he finally asked. His voice came out strained, and his eyes were searching.

I wasn’t sure how to answer that. The answer seemed so simple, like it was obvious and staring us both in the face, but the words to explain it were stuck on my tongue, refusing to come out.

“Why did you save me?” I whispered.

He opened his mouth like he was going to answer, but like me, the words wouldn’t seem to come. Regardless, a sort of understanding seemed to grow in the small space between our naked bodies. One that grew stronger as I brought my other hand up to cup his jaw with both hands. One that pulsed as his eyes softened while looking down at me. One that became all-consuming as he kissed me, not with a fierce hunger but with something slower and sweeter.

His lips claimed mine with a sensual and slow caress as he gently thrust inside me. We’d never had sex like this. Slow. Tender. Yet I almost liked this more than the harder and wilder sex. This felt real. It made what was happening between us—the physical and emotional—feel real.

ZAGAN SLEPT SOUNDLY AS I crept out of the room, tying my black silk robe around my otherwise naked body. I expected to feel the aftermath of my drinking the night before, but all I felt was revived. I moved quietly down the hall and stairs to make my way to the ballroom. Morning sunlight filled the vast space, streaming onto the black piano like a sign from the heavens. I stopped only a moment to swallow down the last of my fears before slowly approaching the piano bench.

Last night had been a wake-up call, one that I’d needed to finally break free the rest of the way. I’d made major strides in claiming ownership of my life, but I’d yet to take the biggest and most difficult step—sitting down to play the piano. Mom’s hold had remained steadfast over that one thing, but after how she’d tried to hurt me with her spiteful words last night, only for Zagan to pull me up from the dark, that hold had finally cracked. When Zagan came to me and reminded me that I’d made the right decision, it crumbled the rest of the way. I’d chosen the correct path, and I refused to let my old demon hold me back.

Instead, I’d embrace my new one.

I stared down at the black-and-white keys and drank in the silence. All was still in the room. All was quiet. With a deep breath, I rested my fingers on the cold ivory-and-ebony keys, closed my eyes, and let memory take hold.

The first slow notes of “Nuvole Bianche” broke the silence. My fingers shook like they’d been waiting for this moment as long as I had. The first few measures came out rushed from lack of practice and out of eagerness to finally be playing again. I quickly found my rhythm, though, my fingers gliding and the music soaring into the air and through the room with the swelling passion I’d been silently harboring all this time.

Moisture gathered in my shut eyes, but I hardly noticed as the piece poured out of me like a desperate, burning scream that had been building up in my lungs for years. It finally burst out of me, only instead of a roar tumbling from my lips, it came in the form of my bent fingers plucking the piano keys. Never had an outpouring of emotion felt this powerful or this freeing. Never had I felt more at home.

The piece slowed into its gentle ending, and even when silence descended over the room, I didn’t take my fingers off the keys or open my eyes. My lips trembled, and tears streamed down my cheeks.

Arms circled me just as cedar and spice filled my nose. Sucking in a sharp breath, I turned on the stool and wrapped my arms around Zagan, crying into the crook of his neck. I held onto him like a woman who was falling into darkness with only him holding her up.

“That was beautiful,” he whispered against my hair.

I choked on tears and squeezed him harder. “I’ve missed it so much. How could I have done that? How could I have sacrificed a part of myself for so long?”

“You did what you thought you had to.” He pulled back to look at me, and he cupped my cheeks, wiping the tears that rolled down them. “But that’s not the case anymore. You’re free, Iyla. So play for me, Sparrow. Play so the whole world knows you won’t be fucking stopped anymore.”

I didn’t stop crying. I couldn’t. But I turned back to the piano, and with Zagan right beside me, I let everything go and released it in the form of music.

My grief for lost time.

My anger at having been caged.

My hope for a future I intended to claim.

And my love.

For my friends—both old and new. For music and piano. For Gemma and her improving health.

For my demon.

Chapter 31

Zagan

“SO,” I PROBED SLOWLY, TWIRLING a strand of Iyla’s hair around my finger.

She lifted her head off my bare chest to look up at me. We were stretched out on the couch with some drama-filled dance show playing, but neither of us had been paying much attention.

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