Page 69 of Married to the Devil

I don’t quite understand Ariel Leonid’s motivations enough to trust her implicitly. There are gaps in my knowledge of what occurred with Stella’s birth that draw more questions. For how helpful Ariel is being now and how sincere she was when meeting Stella, she served the territory under her brother for years.

The hallway opens up into a larger space. The conservatory is mostly glass with plants around to dampen the reflections of sound and create a pretty scene of fairy lights and dark greenery mixed with white and pink flowers.

There are forward facing chairs set up for a performance. The diamond of the curated room is the baby grand piano, and for a moment, it pulls my attention away from the couple who turn my need for calm on its head.

“Are we supposed to be in here yet?” Stella looks around for the staff that set up the room, but the three of us are alone.

The gargoyle leads Stella to the front of the room. I follow them, my attention split between them and the piano.

“The musical performance will take place after drinks. We have time yet. Ariel made sure to let me know that if we needed a moment, to take advantage of the space, and there would be no interruptions.” Stoneheart’s words are light but suggestive.

Stella groans, dropping her hand from his elbow to explore the space. “That woman is obsessed with our sex life.”

“She’s obsessed with creating stability,” I add, my hand hovering over the keys of the piano to tease myself. The anticipation of the surface of the cool keys that would yield warm notes of music is a foolish thing to let affect me when I need to be focused on the maneuvering of these two. “It makes sense. Every aspect of the territory runs smoother when there is a belief that there isn’t going to be a war.”

“Or that people aren’t disappearing from their beds,” Stella says.

I make a sound in agreement. Lorenzo was operating on borrowed time, but he benefited in the instinct of a population to move with the herd. If a calf goes missing, it doesn’t affect the overall feeling of safety. Everyone is aware of the dangers of our world, the proverbial wolves on the edges. It makes them ignorant of when the predators surround them.

There’s no sheet music. The pianist is no doubt mingling with the rest of the guests. Hopefully their talent is more authentic than the wincing smiles of the rest of the people in the territory. Even I sense the uneasiness of people, and I can’t scent emotions like Stoneheart undoubtedly can.

I’m not as convinced as Stella is that she will be able to make wards that are effective against fae magic and, even if she can, if that will be enough to stop the stampede if something sets people off.

“Do you play?” Stella asks, interrupting my musings, her eyes bright in curiosity as she leans on the side of the instrument.

“I enjoy it.” I shrug, ignoring the imposing gargoyle coming up behind me like a circling shark.

“I think it’s more than that,” Stoneheart murmurs. His pale gaze peers into my soul and sees the truth there. He’s standing too close for me to hide anything from him. His tail slides against my calf, beseeching me to speak.

“It’s orderly,” I admit. The gargoyle’s expression doesn’t change as his tail entwines around my leg, the tip stroking my sensitive inner thigh pulling more words from me. “The study of it following rules cultivated through the centuries, but it’s also swayed by the soul.” I can barely breathe. “And chaos.”

His lips curve in satisfaction, and there’s the barest brush of his tail against my cock before he pulls away. “Play for us.”

I bite my lips. Nerves patter an odd rhythm in my chest. After expecting the axe to come down since agreeing to take Stella to a crime scene, it seems that Stoneheart has selected his method of payback.

I promised myself that I’d give him what he’d request because I do owe him. He entrusted me with Stella. I followed the words of the directive and not the meaning, and it caused him worry.

Because Stoneheart cares much more for Stella than he allows himself to show.

“I don’t—” I break off, not even knowing how to voice the sentiment.

I do owe him, but not this.

As with many things with Stoneheart, he doesn’t need my words to read me.

He tuts. “You don’t want to play for us.”

My shoulders ease at the simple statement, and I nod.

Of course he doesn’t stop there. That would be too painless. Stoneheart continues. “This is a part of your heart, and youthink that by not sharing it with us, that it won’t be tainted after you leave?”

Stella ducks her head but not before I see the flash of hurt there, and it strikes me as surely as an arrow. The toxic shame of causing her to pain doesn’t stop what he says from being true though.

“Yes,” I say softly, my exhale shakes.

Stoneheart leans toward me, his face near mine.

“I’m sorry to inform you that nothing in your life will escape what’s happening between the three of us. Tell me that the next time you sit before ivory keys you won’t think of this moment and how you denied us.” His breath brushes over my lips. “Tell me that you won’t regret that more.”

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