Page 18 of Chained to the Devil's Daughter

Time dragged on. I curled up in an armchair and read until I became sleepy and went to bed to get more comfortable, stacking pillows behind me lest I truly fall asleep. Ugh, especially with such boring reading material! I clapped the book shut and paced to the bookshelf, replacing the biography of Hell’s iconic metal band, The Dead Blondes, in favor of a sweeping romantasy between a water nymph and a fire spirit. I smiled, running afinger down the spine. Ash’ren used to pretend listening helped him learn to read, but he’d never come up with an excuse for why he preferred romance novels. Particularly the ones with heaps of forbidden heat.

I read the back cover as I walked toward the bed. A deep voice sent goosebumps racing up my neck.

“Hello, princess.” The scraping of boots, the thud of them landing on the carpet. The window squeaked shut. “Expecting someone?”

Warmth on my backside. A claw-tipped hand twice the size of mine stole the book. “Ah. Taking matters into your own hands. Very queenly.”

An overwhelming sense of butterfly wings assaulted my organs. Every inch of my skin tingled with the anticipation of his touch, the feel of his arms around me never forgotten in my muscles’ memory.

“Ash’ren,” I breathed his name like a plea. Warm, rough hands circled my waist, palms flattening on the dips of my hips. The stiff length of his cock against my lower back sent a shiver down my spine, but the tickle of breath against the shell of my ear made me sob. “You’re here.”

“Where I belong.”

Eager teeth teased my earlobe, and my relieved sob became real tears that streamed over my quivering smile. He swept me off my feet, cradling me against his chest to lick away the tears. “I’m here, Firefly. It’s real.”

It’s real. He said the words soothingly, but when I tilted my head against his collar, I saw my same giddiness at their ridiculous melody reflected in his boyish smile. So, it was really, really real. I guess I hadn’t truly believed it until I saw him slink through a broken window.

10

Searra

WIth my ear flat against Ash’ren’s chest, I heard his heart beat steadily and I knew it was for me. Tucked safely in the arms of my best friend, time didn’t exist. Nothing could fracture the bubble shielding our gentle sway in the middle of my room.

“If you’ve ever. . .”

“No!” I shouted, a tad louder than a whisper. I slammed a hand over my mouth. Ever, Never was a dumb children’s game of dares that we’d made up long ago. Needless to say, we used it to serve naughtier purposes as we got older.

His chest vibrated with mirth, and he tipped my chin up, pressing our grins together for a silly kiss.

“I knew you’d forget your indoor voice.” He tugged my little braid, a style I’d taken to wearing as a girl. It’d fallen out of my favor when I reached puberty, until deciding I rather liked his attentions after all. “Let’s take this outside.”

“The garden?” I tried to keep my gaze locked on his, but a pang of grief lured it over his shoulder to his broken wing. Our nightly excursions to the Soul Springs and the Fyran Dam were behind us. Because of me.

If he noticed my wayward glance, he didn’t show it. “Get your boots on.”

I darted to the closet that was as large as the guest suite Ash’ren was supposed to be asleep in right now. Slipping on a pair of boots with hardy soles, I returned to an empty room.

My climbing was rusty. When I neared the bottom of the dragoncherry tree, Ash’ren helped me dismount. My feet hit the ground at last and I peered up at my devious demon, who nodded with an impressed arch of his brow. So ridiculous, the way my heart and tummy conspired against me.

No words were needed as we quietly picked our way through the private garden. A rustling in the shrubbery caught my attention, the twitch of a flaming tail that blended in with the bellflowers. It was only a stray mew searching for the saucers of cream I left strewn around the garden.

An ornamental gate marked the end of the royal gardens with a gap between it and Hell’s pocket of wild Flamewoods. Ash’ren peered around suspiciously. I sent him a quizzical look as I unlatched the gate, but he didn’t speak until we’d crossed the yard of grass into the trees.

“You should place a sentinel on that gate, Firefly.”

“Then how would I sneak out with my lovers?” I batted my lashes, giggling when he growled. He pinched either side of my waist and I hiccupped to swallow a yelp.

The Flamewoods were a magnificent sight to behold this time of year. It was early frost and the trees were preparing for hibernation. The flaming forest was normally a discordant array of rigorous reds and oppressive oranges. Now their flames were a harmonious mural of pastel pinks, vivid violets, and the calming glow of rose gold.

Unlike our beloved copse of trees, the true Flamewood Forest kissed the Lavalet Depths. They drank lava straight from the ocean, making their flames so bright during Inferno seasonthat no human retinas could handle the sight for longer than a breath. Even for our little slice of the Flamewoods, frost was the only season for humans to visit.

With no path to follow, I laced my fingers through Ash’ren’s. He ducked below branches and held them out of my way, stomping out any stray flames of questionable color. We were nearing the clearing when a sizable patch of orange licked up the side of a tree.

Ash’ren made a sound in the back of his throat. He motioned for me to be still and studied the offending fire from an arm’s length away. One moment it was there, and the next, it was gone, little gray flecks floating to the ground.

“Oh!” I yelped, my hands flying to my face before I turned to Ash, who looked extremely pleased with his hands in his pockets. “Fancy new flames. Fancy new tricks.”

“Charming, eh? Does it make your panties wet?”

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