Page 65 of Demon Sworn
Because, yeah, I’m pretty sure my demons and I just accidentally played matchmaker for two horny dog-men.
I shake my head in both dismay and amusement. It looks like our household is back to its regularly scheduled ridiculousness.
Hopefully, having a friend will help keep Jason’s dick out of the laundry detergent, though I’m not sure if it’ll be any better to watch him fuck William in random spots around the house.
Note to self—keep Adam’s bedroom door locked. And mine.
I did learn something interesting from my guys after they performed the ritual on William. Apparently, these besotted zombie-dog creatures are truly Jason and William, but a…simpler version. I wouldn’t exactly call it primitive, but they apparently now live the way they would’ve been if society didn’t dictate their behaviors. Their souls are the same, in other words. The addiction to brains? An unfortunate side effect of botched necromancy.
Raz leans back in his seat, finishing off an email on his laptop. He hits send and then cracks his neck. “There. Done. William’s parents now think he’s been accepted into college in New York. He’s told them he’s moving out there early so he can become familiar with the city, and Lakewood Prep is going to let him go remote to finish up classes. He said he’s trying to focus on his studies and avoid ‘girl drama.’”
Van chuckles at that last bit.
I shake my head. I’m sure the Washingtons will believe the lie instantly, mainly because William has always been flaky, and I honestly don’t think they overly care about their only son.
Well, now William’s got an entire menagerie on his side. And Adam has claimed him for pony rides once he stops stumbling every few steps. William will have a home now—and he won’t have to strive after trivial things like being the “most popular” in order to feel loved.
My smile is wide as Jason and William take turns sniffing each other’s butts. Adam sits on the couch with Kator on his lap, while Akor attempts to gift him… Is that a set of brass knuckles? What? I thought I talked to him about gifting my little brother presents that are capable of killing someone.
Ugh. Mental facepalm.
Before I can comment, Kastros appears in the doorway, his massive arms crossed over his chest. Despite the animals running around his feet and darting between his legs, his eyes are fixed firmly on my face, his gaze guarded.
It’s time he and I talked.
Raz meets my gaze and nods almost imperceptibly, the tiniest dip of his chin.
I feel like a prisoner walking to the executioner’s block—wary, almost, and my steps weighed down with trepidation… Gah! I’m being ridiculous about this.Everything will be fine, I try to tell myself, but nerves and logic are sometimes like oil and water. I’m worried that repairing this wound will be awkward…like stitching together Frankenstein’s monster. I’ve never had to repair a relationship that was this injured before and I just…don’t know if I’ll do it right.
I hurry out of the living room and meet Kastros in the hallway. He simply stares at me, his eyes almost black in the dim lighting, before he turns on his heel and stalks towards his bedroom near the end of the hall.
I haven’t been in here since I returned from Heaven, and I take a moment to study the simple room with the king-sized bed and black comforter, mahogany dresser and desk—the latter covered in tiny figurines constructed from wood—and the television opposite his bed. Simple and masculine, just like Kastros himself, in shades of pure white and onyx.
I suddenly feel awkward and unsure, so I sit daintily on the edge of his bed, kicking my feet like I’m a child or something.
And Kastros? He just watches me, not stepping away from the doorframe.
Don’t turn into a babbling mess, Katrina. You’re better than that.
“I know we probably need to talk, and I want to talk, but sometimes, I don’t know what to talk about, so I guess I’m just going to talk until I figure it out. Oh god. I’m saying talk a lot, aren’t I? I don’t mean to say talk a lot, but I’m trying to figure out what to talk about, because there’s a lot weneedto talk about, but sometimes I don’t know how to talk and—I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” I bring both of my hands up to cover my face and groan. The bedroom door clicks shut. A second later, the bed dips as Kastros comes to join me. He very gently grabs both of my wrists and removes them from my face, only releasing them to sign to me. I have to pay close attention to make sure I don’t miss any word.
I watch his massive fingers curve into delicate swooping signs and gestures.There will never be enough words to tell you how sorry I am. At the time of your accident, I saw a Center as a threat to my murder, my family, and I did what I always do—tried to eliminate it. I didn’t know—He stops signing abruptly and scrubs a huge hand down his face.
Almost distantly, I remember reading an article that large hands correlate to large dicks, and a sliver of heat slithers down my spine before I shove it away in the no-no box. This is a serious conversation, and as much as the immature part of me wants to avoid it, I know we need to do this, lay everything out. It’s the only way we can move forward.
I thought love would make me weak, but I was wrong. It makes me strong. It makesusstrong. I made a horrible mistake, Katrina, and I’ll do whatever it takes to rectify it. If that means getting on my hands and knees every day for the rest of my life, then so be it. ‘Sorry’ is such a pointless word, because it can’t fix anything. It can’t change the past. What I did to you and your nanny… I’ll regret it for the rest of my very long days. Even if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.His expression is absolutely wretched.
My heart skips a beat.
“That!” I interrupt, moving to place my hand over his, stopping his rapid signing. “That right there is why I still love you.” When he simply cocks a curious eyebrow at me, I rush to elaborate, trying to find words for the ache in my chest, the piece of me that longs to heal this rift with him. “You’re genuinely sorry, Kastros. I can see it in your eyes—your guilt and regret. And at the same time, I understand why you did it. It was the way you were raised, what you were always taught.” I give a sad chuckle that’s utterly devoid of humor. “It’s a hard thing…to defy what you’ve been raised to believe is true. It’s difficult to shed that perspective and find a new one. But you did. And I know you would change everything if you could.” I give his hands a squeeze, leaning forward until the gap between our two bodies is breached. “You would give me everything.”
He removes his hands from underneath mine and signs,I would.
My throat grows tight as I confess, “Kastros, I love you. Even when I hated your actions, I never stopped loving you. I can see how much you changed.”
He shakes his head slowly, disbelieving, that dark gaze of his intent on me like I’m on stage illuminated by a giant spotlight. Wonderment, love, and awe emanate from his eyes, along with a healthy dose of lust that leaves me wanting to kiss him.
Because I finally forgive him. Maybe I’d forgiven him long ago, but it has never been more clear to me than right now, staring up at his painfully handsome face. The sincerity in his eyes…it’s legit. I know that this man loves me with his entire heart and that he regrets the past and his actions.
