Page 63 of Chained to the Devil's Daughter

Fara gawked at me for a moment. Surprised I possessed manners after witnessing me wallop her gross little friend, maybe. She stammered something incoherent before curtsying away.

“Don’t worry about her,” Searra said, looping her hand into my arm, staring after the woman. “I think she’s got something going on lately, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

“Probably whatever’s going on between her and your ex.” Searra’s eyes widened. “You’ll have to ask her.” Using my free hand to stop her nails from their crash course toward her mouth, I lowered my voice. “I have something special planned. But first. . .”

I paused for dramatics. Her other hand slipped around the first, her pillowy chest pressed lusciously against my bicep. She wiggled her brows, and I wanted to take a fucking bite out of her. “Go on. . .”

“Pants.”

Her posture soured, sagging back to normal with a scowl. I laughed.

“I thought you were gonna say something naughty,” she defended herself, that last word a little quieter than the rest. Funny that she censored herself, when I knew her pretty head was full of filthy thoughts.

“Hmmm.” I pretended to think, then shrugged. “Nah.”

“Whatever. I know there’s a catch.” She darted me a suspicious glance, to which I feigned obliviousness. One second.Two, three. Four. Five seconds later came her gasp of realization, gaze darting over my shoulder. There was only one reason I’d ever tell her to put on pants. “Wait! But how?”

I grinned. “Pants first.”

“Ugh! Fine.”

We walked in silence toward her chambers until we reached the yellow door, and it clicked shut behind us. I busied myself with picking out fresh clothes for each of us—fuck the suitor suite, I’d brought my clothes in here—while she rinsed and primped in the washroom.

“Is there anyone in your ranks with connections to the business owners of the markets? Someone trustworthy.” She undressed as she talked, every arc and roll of her womanly figure a distraction. “Ash?”

I dragged my gaze to hers and silently recalled what the flames she’d said, contemplating for a moment. “Jadan mentioned having a makeshift forge in Four. I can speak to them. How’s all that coming along?”

“Great! I think. It’s going fine, I think. I hope.” She finished lacing her trousers, which were little more than leggings that hugged her every curve. She tied her hair, braids and all, up with a ribbon as she approached me at the window. “I’ll have you know, I’m no less afraid of heights than the last time we made this journey. I’m only doing this to quell my curiosity.”

Over my shoulder, her hand grazed the top of my broken wing. It wasn’t the first time she’d touched it, but it was the first time the sweetness of her touch didn’t make me flinch. I bit her nose. “You’ll see. It’s very impressive.”

“In size or performance?”

“Both.”

There was a knock on the door. Instinctively, I jumped back, but Searra held me in place. The servant I’d hailed earlier peeked their head in, pushing a cart with two trays of food.

I combined the food into one tray, covered it, and put the whole thing on top of the change of clothes I’d folded into a picnic basket. Bundling Searra into my arms like a blushing bride, I looped the basket over the broken end of my wing.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Searra giggled.

“Have faith.”

“I do, I do! But do we really have to use the window?”

I silenced her with a playful growl, nipping at her lower lip.

When I stepped from the window onto the climbing tree, the limb sagged with a questionable amount of give. I tested a light bounce and found it was springy enough to launch. With one deep breath and a reassuring squeeze of my lady, I launched into the air.

I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know the black flames would hold. I could feel them as well as my fully intact wing and could sense the wind through the shadow-like wisps, the way they forced the air to bend to my will with every beat. Knowing the bundle of love in my arms was fearful, I set a slow pace instead of reaching my top speed, a speed that would give the gryffions a run for their money.

“Oh, Ash!” Searra cried. Her hold was loose, her fear of heights momentarily suspended. I watched her beautiful features take in this new version of me, preening under her bewildered scrutiny. She boldly reached for the whipping flames, gasping in delight when they licked her fingers. When she turned that star-speckled gaze onto mine, the force of it sent currents of lightning between my heart and my knot. I wanted to breed her right now, as we flew over the rings of Hell, but I needed to keep my head for the next part of my surprise.

The flight to the Fyran Dam was by no means short, but with the strength of these mysterious black flames, every trip I’d made in practice had taken less than half the time as before. A herd of wild gryffions of the savanna chased herds of okapibelow. They were behind us before I could count how many of my favorite meaty prey succumbed to the fire beasts’ jaws. We flew until the ground cracked with lava snaked through dry land like veins, a sign that we neared one of our favorite spots to fuck.

Carefully landing on the rough concrete of the Fyran Dam, I ran seven long strides before coming to a halt. I placed Searra down gently and her arms circled my waist, locking at the base of my spine. Without a word, we swayed side to side, the heaviness of her head on my chest a gentle reminder that my heart still beat.

Firefly’s stomach complained loudly enough to shatter our moment.

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