Page 157 of Married to the Devil

I wake being spoonedby a gargoyle and nearly start crying in relief. My sniffle is cut off by his gravelly voice.

“None of that.”

I inhale. “I can’t help it.”

His arm squeezes me to his chest tighter, and I shudder in relief.

“How’s the baby?” he asks, probably trying to distract me from the emotional rollercoaster.

“As disagreeable as ever,” I say automatically, but hesitate. This is the first morning I’ve woken up without the need to vomit. “Actually, I feel pretty okay right now.”

He hums in thought.

“What?” I ask.

“Just a suspicion. Nothing else.”

“Stoneheart.”

“It will hardly make you feel kinder toward him if I’m right.”

Him. I swallow. I sensed his absence on waking up, but I tried to distract myself with appreciating that I have Stoneheart back.

Ben is gone. Even if I have a memory of sleeping between the two of them, the sheets in front of me are cold.

“You think that not being in contact with Ben contributed to the sickness?” I ask. Magical pregnancies have weird symptoms, so it’s not like this is unheard of.

“I think the distance made you both sick,” Stoneheart says.

That makes me feel a little better except for the fact that he’s gone now.

Stoneheart kisses my throat. “He’s coming back.”

“Stop reading my mind.”

He smiles against my skin. “I don’t need to.”

“Did he say he’s coming back when he left this morning?”

He’s promised me he was staying, and now he’s gone. It’s taking Stoneheart’s hand moving down my body and groping my breast to keep me from lingering on the gaping chasm of disappointment in my chest.

I don’t want Ben to break that promise to me.

“He didn’t need to,” Stoneheart says.

“Your confidence is astounding.”

His chuckle is dark. “You enjoy my confidence.”

I do, but I’m not going to admit that to him. His confidence in me is what made the past week without him possible.

“I missed you,” I say, and it comes out with all the yearning and doubts that have tried to claw me down the past week.

Stoneheart rolls me under him, and his pale gaze captures my attention, scanning my face.

“I know. I’m sorry you had to handle that.” He settles between my thighs, and I gasp at the contact of his skin there. He’s naked, and I’m near to that.

I weave my fingers through his hair, stroking one of his horns and appreciating how his lids drop in pleasure.

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