Page 55 of Demonic Division

“To the human realm,” Lir murmurs, placing his hand on my forehead. “He’ll be back shortly.” Lir raises his head, serious eyes connecting with Roark’s. “Are you calm now?”

Roark nods, then buries his face back into my neck. “Calm enough.”

Lir sighs. “I guess I can’t ask for any more.” He rises to a stand, then places his hands onto the thick collar surrounding Roark’s neck, a gentle blue light flaring to life as he sends a pulse of magic into the restraint. All at once, the cuffs on his neck, ankles, and wrists pop off, clattering to the stone floor in a cacophony of clangs and crashes.

As soon as he’s freed, Roark releases a satisfied groan, stretching his neck side to side to relieve some of the tension in his muscles. As soon as he’s done, he follows Lir out of the ruined bedroom, hastening down the long hallway toward Cyprien’s room. I’m about to ask why we’re not going to Lir’s when we step past the threshold, and all my thoughts are dashed by the sight in front of me.

Unlike all of the other rooms in the castle, Cyprien’s lacks the bleak minimalism and eerie coldness that makes the other so unwelcoming. Floor to ceiling, the dark stone has been covered with antethorpe furs, sewn lazily together with jagged red string that spreads across the room like bleeding fissures. A rounded burrow-like structure in the corner of the room is made from hundreds of glimmeringsilver branches and large enough to house at least six demons of Cyprien’s size. Just like the walls of the room, the inside of the hut has been stuffed with fluffy white antethorpe furs, giving it a cozy feel and making it the perfect place to lie down for a nap.

“He likes to burrow,” Lir grumbles, answering my question before it forms. “Though I find it ridiculous, you will be comfortable here, so this is where we will wait for Cyprien.”

Roark shifts his grip on me as he follows Lir toward the strange burrow, ducking his head low to crawl through the small circular opening into the dwelling beyond. The air is warmer inside, zested with a scent similar to the pine trees back home but less earthy. Pleasant.

Roark sits at the back of the space next to Lir, spreading his long legs to the side before placing me on the furs between his legs. Lir turns to the side and leans back, resting his shoulders on Roark’s leg so he can lay his head in the center of my lap. Sapphire eyes blink lazily as a rare smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“You seem to be feeling better,” he murmurs, reaching up to caress my cheek with his calloused hand. “Is the warmth helping?”

“Mm-hmm.” My eyes flutter closed as I lean into his touch, a pleasant heat enveloping each area his gentle fingers brush. I’m about to drift when the sound of flapping wings breaks the air, startling the three of us from our trance. I look through the opening, my chest warming at the sight of Cyprien’s grinning face peeking through.

“I got the goods,” he says, holding up a new box of crackers and peanut butter, his smile threatening to split his face in two.

Lir’s frown settles back into place as he turns toward the yellow-eyed demon. “Water?”

Cyprien rolls his eyes, placing a large bucket of ice into the hollow before climbing through the opening. “I swear, it’s like you think I’m dumb or something.”

Lir sighs tiredly, raising his head from my lap as he reaches out to take the bucket of ice. Cyprien crouches down, spreading Roark’s legs as far as they will go before settling into the space in front of me, much to the larger demon's irritation. Cyprien rips into the box of crackers, shoving an entire sleeve into my chest before ordering, “Eat. All of them.”

My stomach rumbles as I tear open the packaging, not needing to be told twice. I scarf down five crackers before Cyprien offers me the peanut butter, which I slather onto the next five. The more I eat, the better I feel, until eventually, the room returns to focus.

I reach for the ice bucket, needing something to quench my thirst, but just before my fingers make contact, Lir yanks it out of reach with a devious glint in his eyes.

“Lir…”

“I remember how much fun Cyprien had when you first arrived in the dungeon,” he murmurs, sliding his hand into the bucket and pulling out a chunk of ice. Water drips from his heated fingers as he pushes his hand toward my mouth, teasing at my swollen lips.

“Open.”

Having no reason or desire to deny him, I part my lips, and my eyes roll back as the cool liquid coats my tongue. I suck on Lir’s fingers, drawing more and more of him to the back of my throat as a desperate groan explodes from his chest.

“Fuck,” he chokes. A string of saliva trails from the tip of his claw as he pulls it from my mouth, and his eyes flare with a ravenous desire. My tongue trails over my bottomlip before I take it between my teeth, my core heating just from the look on his face. I’ve never seen a man look at something the way Lir is now—full of passion and tenderness and a raw, animalistic desire. So many conflicting emotions shouldn’t exist at once, yet when I look again, I know I’m not mistaken.

“Do you want more water?” he asks, his voice a choked rasp. “Or do you want something else,pet?”

My mouth pops, and I just shake my head when he reaches for the bucket. He freezes halfway, and a devious smile tips his lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“I wantyou,” I whisper, my voice a desperate plea. “I want all of you.”

Lir’s low chuckle breaks the air, rolling over my skin like cooled silk. His eyes find Cyprien’s, then Roark’s, an agreement flashing between them. And when he looks back at me, my throat tightens at the dark promise swimming in his gaze.

“Sweet little thing. You don’t realize how dangerous those words are.”

32

Roark

My palms slideover Dagny’s stomach, swooping over the gentle curve of her breasts and up to her neck as a pleased hum echoes in my chest. Her breath comes out in shuddering pants, fleeting clouds of vapor that dance through the air and frame her silhouette. My fingertips continue their journey, sliding beneath the collar of her dermal suit and easing it down her shoulders.

Dagny whimpers as the cool air hits her exposed skin, drawing goose bumps to the surface and coloring her cheeks a delicious pink hue. I lean down, pressing my lips to the base of her neck as Cyprien reaches toward the hem of her bodysuit, gently easing it down her stomach and hips.

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