Page 34 of The Demon's Sinful Serenade
There was only here. Only this.
Only him.
"Rest, kitten," Zane murmured, tangling his legs with mine. "You're safe now."
EPILOGUE
ZANE
"That's complete bullshit." I tossed a handful of popcorn at the screen. "No way a single fighter could take down an entire fleet. Those shields would hold against anything short of a nuclear blast."
Kaz snorted, stretching his legs onto my coffee table. "You'd think a movie about space lizards would at least get the physics right."
"At least the explosions look cool." I drained my beer and added the bottle to our growing collection. Three for me, two for Kaz. The king had to maintain some dignity, after all.
I pushed myself off the couch, my tail swishing behind me. "Need another?"
"Sure," Kaz said, not taking his eyes off the screen where a lizard in a leather jacket was monologuing about galactic domination. "Not like the plot's getting any better."
I padded into the kitchen, hardwood creaking under my bare feet. Our place—mine and River's—still felt new after eight months. After a lifetime of barracks, compounds, and that sad office cot, I'd finally sprung for a proper home. Two bedrooms, a detached garage where River could practice at full volumewithout complaints, a decent yard that I'd managed not to kill yet.
River had transformed the space with her personal touches. She'd hung tour posters on all the walls, organized her vinyl collection on the custom shelves built by Zral and the Sombra orcs, and positioned her prized vintage record player on the custom stand in the living room corner that no one but her was allowed to touch.
I smiled at the memory of her arranging her garage studio, hair tied up in a messy knot, cursing at cables that wouldn't cooperate. "Acoustics matter, Zane. This isn't just about where things look good. Sound bounces differently off every surface in this room."
Grabbing two beers from the fridge, I checked the clock on the microwave. 9:47 pm. River's flight landed around noon tomorrow, then she had a meeting with some baby bigwig she hoped would lead to a meeting with a bigger bigwig before her return to Silvermist. Eighteen hours, give or take. Not that I was counting.
Okay, I was definitely counting.
Her latest tour had been a resounding success. Fans packed clubs all over the Pacific Northwest, singing along to her new material as loudly as the old River & Rath classics. The ritual that banished Julian had done more than free her from his haunting; it had unleashed something in her music too. She'd knocked loose whatever creative block had been plaguing her and written an entire album's worth of songs in under three months. Raw, powerful tracks that had reviewers comparing her solo work favorably to the band's peak albums.
"You check that clock one more time, I'm throwing something at your head," Kaz called from the living room.
I grabbed the beers and headed back, flipping him off as I rounded the corner. "I wasn't checking the clock."
"Bullshit." He smirked, accepting the fresh bottle. "You've got that look."
"What look?" I dropped back onto the couch, stretching my legs out on the coffee table next to his.
"That 'how many more hours until my mate returns' look. Fucking pathetic." He took a swig and grimaced. "This beer is shit."
I snorted, but couldn't argue. I remembered all the times I'd grumbled when Kaz canceled plans after mating Talia. Now I was the one whose life revolved around someone else's schedule, and I couldn't bring myself to mind.
But to insult my taste in beer? "You've had three."
"I'm being polite." He waved the bottle in my direction. "Besides, it's necessary. If the booze doesn't kill me, it'll at least numb me enough to avoid a plot-related aneurysm."
Outside, a car pulled into the driveway. A door slammed, followed by quick, light footsteps I'd recognize anywhere. My heart rate kicked up instantly.
Keys jangled in the lock. I was on my feet before Kaz could say a word.
The door swung open to reveal River, guitar case in one hand and duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Her blue curls were pulled into two messy knots high above her ears, and dark circles under her eyes showed her exhaustion.
She looked beautiful.
"Surprise," she said, dropping her bags just inside the door.
I crossed the room in three strides and pulled her into my arms, burying my face in her neck where her scent was strongest. Rain and citrus filled my lungs. "You're early."
