Page 126 of Demon Monster's Little Human

I step closer, pressing my palm against his heart, feeling the way it hammers beneath my touch. “You’re sure?” I whisper.

His golden eyes darken, his hand curling around the nape of my neck, tilting my face up to his. “There has never been anything in my life I’ve been more certain of.”

Something inside me breaks apart, reforms, becomes something new.

I have spent so many lifetimes running, breaking, shattering beneath what I was supposed to be. And yet, here he is, standing before me, offering me something no one ever has.

A choice.

A home.

A future.

A mate.

A slow, trembling smile spreads across my lips.

“Yes,” I whisper.

His expression shifts, not shock, not surprise, but relief, a deep, growling satisfaction that rumbles through his chest as he grips my face in both hands and devours me whole.

His lips crash into mine, desperate, hungry, full of a promise that will never break.

I will be his. For all eternity.

53

LIORA

The night is silent, the kind of silence that hums with power, thick with something ancient and unchanging. The forest breathes around us, the trees bending slightly under the wind, bearing witness to what we are about to do. Above us, the moon hangs full, casting a glow over the clearing, making the world feel smaller, intimate, only ours.

This is it.

Dain stands before me, his golden eyes molten under the silver light, his wings slightly flared. He is bare, stripped of his armor, his weapons, his defenses. But he is not vulnerable. No—he is more. More than a warrior, more than a king of ruin, more than the vengeful creature I once feared.

He is mine.

Just as I am his.

Neither of us speak for a long moment, the ritual pressing against our skin, thick in the air, in the magic between us.

This bond isn’t fate. It isn’t destiny forcing our hands.

This is our hoice.

He lifts a clawed hand, his fingers grazing my jaw, tilting my face up. His touch is gentle, reverent, but there’s something wild in his gaze, something possessive, consuming, raw.

I swallow hard, my pulse thrumming beneath my skin.

“Do you know the words?” His voice is low, husky, filled with something dark and reverent.

I nod.

The words are etched in my soul, just as they are in his.

We stand close, so close our breaths mingle, the heat between us nearly unbearable.

Slowly, I speak first.

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