Page 24 of A Kiss of Deception

"You hate it that much?" I ask softly.

Milkor's silver eyes flash with barely contained rage. "Elves are delicate creatures, all beauty and no substance. I'm a demon. I should inspire terror, not... admiration."

I can't help but smirk at that. "Well, you certainly inspired something in me."

He growls, rolling me onto my back and pinning me beneath him. "Don't tease me, little one. You have no idea what I'm capable of, even in this form."

My heart races, a delicious mix of fear and excitement coursing through my veins.

"Then show me," I breathe.

Milkor's weight presses me into the mattress, his silver eyes burning with an intensity that steals my breath. In this moment, I see beyond the elf-like exterior to the primal force trapped within. My body responds, a rush of heat flooding through me.

"Keep me," he snarls, his fingers digging into my hips. "As if you could contain me, little human."

But there's a flicker of something in his gaze. Uncertainty? Hope? Whatever it is, it fuels my determination.

"Watch me," I challenge, arching against him.

His laugh is dark, dangerous. "You have no idea what you're getting into."

"Then teach me," I breathe, trailing my fingers down his chest. "Show me your world, Milkor. Let me see the demon beneath this pretty shell."

He freezes, searching my face. "You can't possibly mean that."

"I do," I insist, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I want all of you - the darkness, the hunger, everything."

Milkor's grip tightens, almost painful. "Be careful what you wish for, little one. I might just devour you whole."

A thrill runs through me at his words. "Promise?"

He growls, low and feral, before claiming my mouth in a searing kiss. I taste blood - mine or his, I'm not sure - and it only inflames me further.

When we break apart, both panting, I cup his face in my hands. My mind races, trying to process everything he's told me. A part of me is terrified - of what he was, of what he's capable of. But another part, a part I'm only just beginning to understand, is drawn to his raw power and darkness.

I search his silver eyes, seeing the pain, the loneliness, and the barely contained rage swirling within them. And beneath it all, a flicker of something else. Hope, perhaps? Or a desperate need for acceptance?

In that moment, I make a decision that will change everything. I may not fully understand what I'm getting myself into, but I know I can't walk away. Not now. Not when I've seen the vulnerability beneath his monstrous exterior.

"I'm not afraid of you, Milkor," I say, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart. "And I've decided I will keep you."

Something shifts in his expression, a mixture of disbelief and... wonder? "You're either very brave or very foolish," he murmurs.

I consider his words, weighing the danger against the inexplicable pull I feel towards him.

"Maybe both," I admit with a grin. "But I know what I want. And that's you - demon, elf, or whatever comes in between."

Milkor studies me for a long moment, his silver eyes unreadable. I hold my breath, wondering if I've overstepped, if I've misread the situation entirely. Then, slowly, a smirk tugs at his lips. "Well then, little human. I suppose you'd better hold on tight."

His words send a thrill through me - a mixture of excitement and fear that I'm quickly becoming addicted to. I nod, tightening my grip on him. Whatever comes next, I'm ready. Or at least, I hope I am.

13

MILKOR

Amoan pierces the silence, jolting me awake. My eyes snap open, scanning the dimly lit room. Another moan, distinctly feminine, reaches my ears.

Meetha.

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