Page 17 of The Demon's Queen

My tension doesn’t leave as I step through the doorway and back into the relative safety of the castle. Eve is shaking, her eyes too wide and her hand convulsively gripping my shirt. “You’re safe,” I say softly. “Eve, you’re safe.”

“You said you would stop lying.”

The castle understands my urgency, because there’s only a single staircase and a short hallway before I’m pushing through the door into Eve’s suite. “I’m not lying. You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” I walk past the bed and into the bathroom. I don’t think she’s noticed the blood on her shirt, and I want to get it off before she does. She’s not quite panicking, but there’s no reason to traumatize her further. “I’m sorry you had to experience that. I misjudged their boldness, or I wouldn’t have let you and Ramanu out of here without an escort.”

“Azazel.” She presses her hand to my chest, her brown eyes serious. The earlier shakiness seems to be easing, tucking itself away where she can deal with it privately. I wish she trusted me enough to let me share that burden with her, but I’ve done little to deserve her trust at this point. She drops her hand. “I am so angry with you that I can barely put it into words. But there’s no way you could have known we’d be in danger in what amounts to your front yard. Stop flogging yourself.”

“You could flog me instead.” Damn it, I didn’t mean to say that. I don’t mean to do a lot of things around Eve.

Her eyes flash. “Absolutely not. There are lines, and I don’t trust myself not to cross them with how I’m feeling these days.”

We did very little kink on the nights I contracted with her. I didn’t have the patience for it, couldn’t think past the frenzy she inspires in me. My desire is still there, barely tempered beneath the surface. I’m still not certain how I managed to keep from fucking her the other night on the dining room table. My need was—is—a live thing inside me, chanting a single word over and over again.Eve.No one else will do.

In the past, I’ve laughed at the dragons for being so stringent with their rituals of courtship and marriage. I think I understand it better now. I want Eve asmine. My ring on her finger if that human ritual is what she needs. Her standing before my people as co-ruler...

But that’s a fool’s dream.

She may not have faked her orgasms with me, but as she’s so keen to remind me, everything else was a job to her. She doesn’t share the emotional attachment I have, and I’m a fool for developing one in the first place.

None of that matters right now. “Let me take care of you.” I keep my voice low and even. “Just until you feel steadier on your feet. Please, Eve.”

She opens her mouth, obviously intent on denying us both, but finally sighs. “It means nothing.”

“I know.” I set her down on the stool next to the tub and reach past her to get the water going. There’s nothing else to say. I need to question the single enemy left alive. If I can find where Brosh is hiding, can figure out exactly how extensive the network of betrayal is...

But that’s a problem for later. Right now, there’s a woman who will never be mine in truth who has agreed to accept my care.

The tub fills fast. I reach for her shirt, but pause. “May I?”

Something flickers across her face that’salmosthumor. “Azazel, you’ve seen me naked more times than I care to count. Don’t tell me you’re getting shynow.”

There are dozens of answers to that, none of them good enough to speak. Instead, I carefully pull her shirt over her head—and freeze at the sight of the bruise already darkening across her ribs. I drift my fingers through the air above the purple-and-green mark from where the bargainer held her as they tried to escape. “I have something that will help this if you’ll allow it.”

“Considering it hurts enough to make breathing difficult, I wouldn’t say no to medical care.”

“Don’t move.” I walk to the cabinet and dig through the drawers until I come up with the balm that was designed... Well, best not to think of that right now. No matter its intended use, it’s still good for surface-level injuries of all varieties, and while it won’t get to the deeper parts of the bruise right away, it will help her pain levels.

I return to where Eve sits and crouch in front of her. It puts her breasts at face level, which would be easier to ignore if the bruise didn’t stretch across her ribs just beneath her gloriously full...Stop.“Can you lift your arms over your head?”

In response, she does exactly that, then rests her forearms on the top of her head. My gaze catches on her rosy nipples, and I have to inhale carefully. Damn it, this was a terrible idea. I could have just given her the balm and allowed her to put it on herself. Backing out now isn’t an option, though. No matter how ill-advised this is.

I dip my fingers into the balm and carefully drag them over the middle of the bruise. She sucks in a surprised breath. “It tingles.”

“I know.” I do my very damnedest to not think about the other ways that tingle can be used to amplify pleasure, to...Fuck.I massage the balm into her skin gently, ensuring I don’t put too much pressure on the injury.

It takes an eternity. It takes no time at all.

“There.” I sit back on my heels and put the lid back on. “Put another coat on it in the morning, and you should be good as new.”

“Thanks.”

I need to move, to stand, to put some distance between us—not measure the steady rise and fall of her breasts as she breathes. Staying here a moment longer is both the greatest and worst idea in the world. I want to tug off her pants, to scour her body for any further scrapes or bruises. To... kiss her better.

As if she could possibly view my touch as anything other than punishment.

I jerk to my feet. “I think you have it from here. I need to question the...” Surviving attacker. Saying that will only remind her of my capacity for violence. I never wanted her to see that. I’m not ashamed of the things I’ve done to protect this territory, this realm, thiswoman, but I do regret that it only further confirms her negative vision of me.

In keeping her safe, I’ve lost her forever.

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