Page 29 of King's Obsession

“We’re gonna need to get you a bucket for beside the bed so you don’t have to run.”

What Dougal said made no sense, and Asmodeus felt too weak to argue. He got his legs under him and Dougal helped him up and to the sink, which thankfully only had splatter on the inside of it. Hand shaking, Asmodeus switched on the tap and rinsed the mess away, then stuck his face under the faucet and swilled his mouth out. Magic would have worked, but he needed the act of rinsing his mouth to make himself feel a little more in control.

When he came up and caught his face in the mirror, his eyes widened at his pale complexion, dark circles under his eyes, and feverish brow. “I’m ill! How can I be ill? I’m a demon king,” he exclaimed in fright, glancing at Dougal, who started to chuckle. “This is no laughing matter!”

Dougal, who clearly couldn’t smell the vomit, or it just didn’t bother him, came closer and brought Asmodeus into his chest and cuddled him. “It isn’t, I’m sorry. It’s a shock to your system.”

He nestled onto his chest, taking comfort from the arms supporting him. “What is?”

“The baby.”

His head clouted Dougal’s jaw and stars danced before his eyes as he blinked rapidly. “What. Are. You. Talking. About!”

Chapter Seventeen

Dougal

“Put simply, babe, you’re pregnant.” Dougal wanted to laugh so hard, but really, Asmodeus wasn’t going to take that well, considering he was looking at Dougal as if the sky had fallen and hit him on the head. “It’s a very simple process in nature, and among demons, too, most likely, that when two people love each other…”

“Don’t give me that shit. How did I get pregnant?” At least with Asmodeus flinging his arms around, he added some magic, cleaning up the puke. Dougal would live with dung on his face for the rest of his days if it absolutely made his mate happy, but the cleaner air was a welcome relief.

“How about you come through to the living room, and I’ll make you some tea,” he suggested, taking Asmodeus by the elbow. “I’ll add some ginger. It will settle your upset stomach.”

“So, it’s not a baby. It’s an upset stomach.” Asmodeus jumped on his words like a frantic fiend. “Someone was trying to poison me, weren’t they? It must’ve been while we were fighting at the party. Someone who was very sneaky, biding their time because they knew we would win the fights. Oh, I know who it was. Someone—I bet it was Vito’s wife—used me as the tool to kill her worthless husband and then snuck around the server’s back, sticking something nefarious in my food.”

“Sit down, babe.” Dougal took Asmodeus over to the couch and got him settled before going over to his cauldron. A few whispered words, and some added ginger and his cider became tea, which was far more suitable for a pregnant person. Pouring two mugs of it, Dougal went back, sitting down beside his mate, and handing him a cup, before taking a sip of his own.

“You’re not saying anything,” Asmodeus grumbled. “I’m right, though, aren’t I? I’m the demon king. Tell me I’m right.”

“That would be a little difficult to say when you’re wrong. Mates don’t lie to each other.” Dougal leaned back against the couch, and lifted his legs, resting his heels on the table. “First off. I killed Vito, not you.”

“You or me, didn’t make any difference. Vito’s wife still got what she wanted—a dead husband.”

“Secondly. You and I shared food from the same trays at the party.” Dougal flicked his hand between the two of them. “How did you get sick when I feel fine?”

Asmodeus brooded for a long moment. Dougal didn’t mind. His mate was a very intelligent demon, even if he did tend to overthink things. He’d work it out, eventually. It’s not as though a pregnancy was something he’d be able to ignore for long. Dougal yawned and covered his mouth with his hand. The forest was a peaceful place in comparison to the demon realm.

“There must be something.” It was as if Asmodeus was making a proclamation involving finger-wagging and firm tones. “We’ll check with Rote. He can research it. With all the poisons there are in the world, there are bound to be some that would only harm demons.”

Dougal scratched the end of his nose. “I don’t think so, babe. Agreed, there are millions of poisons and potions, but face it, anything that can take out a demon would take out any other creature just as quick.”

“You’re not taking this seriously. Look at you all laid back like it was any other day. How can you be so casual about someone trying to kill me? I thought you loved me. I was sick!”

“I love you with my entire being and have done for centuries,” Dougal said calmly. “I am not worried because I know that you are pregnant. You made a mess in the bathroom this morning because your body will take a while to adjust to the additional hormones that are now flooding your body as it readies itself to nurture and grow the life form before it’s born.

“In the human world, that sickness is known as morning sickness, because a high percentage of pregnant people usually feel sick when they first wake up. However, some people report that they can get sick at any time of the day. Certain foods can trigger it or smells. From what I understand, toasted bread with honey can help, after you’ve stopped throwing up, of course. If you don’t believe me, ask Rote.”

Slamming his mug down on the coffee table, Asmodeus rolled around, climbing onto Dougal’s lap, straddling his thighs. “I was sick—deathly ill. Vile shit erupting from my mouth as though it were a volcano. That does not happen to a demon king.”

There were times when Dougal thought Asmodeus could do with a tap around his ears. But he still looked pale, and Dougal couldn’t escape the worry in his dark eyes. “Okay,” he said gently. “Have it your way. What would you like for breakfast?”

“Now you’re humoring me.” Asmodeus slapped down hard on Dougal’s chest with both hands. “Stop making fun of me. Tell me what’s going on!”

“Keep your slappy hands to yourself, if you’re going to be like that.” Dougal grabbed Asmodeus’s wrists and lifted his mate’s hands off his skin. “You’re pregnant, not sick, dying, or poisoned.”

“Someone’s tried to poison me. I’m certain of it.” Asmodeus wiggled, trying to get out of Dougal’s grip.

“You’re pregnant!” Dougal wasn’t letting go. If his mate needed a meltdown, then it was Dougal’s job to make sure that worry and frustration didn’t hurt anyone else. “Having a baby, bun in the oven, growing a seedling, whatever you want to call it, but you are pregnant.”

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