Page 20 of His Infernal Purr
I take my time with him that night, deliberately driving him to the edge of pleasure before pulling back, again and again until he’s begging incoherently. I leave marks on his skin—claiming him in the most primal way possible, making sure he’ll feel me tomorrow.
When I finally allow him release, his cry of pleasure is so intense it briefly triggers the building’s fire alarm, much to our later embarrassment (though I secretly consider it a point of pride).
Afterward, as he lies boneless and thoroughly satisfied in my arms, I find myself contemplating the strange turn my existencehas taken. From commanding legions in Hell to setting off fire alarms during particularly enthusiastic sex with a veterinarian.
And I wouldn’t trade it for all the power in the infernal realms.
“Morax?” Finn mumbles against my chest, already half-asleep.
“Yes?”
“‘M glad you’re jealous. Means you care.”
I stroke his hair gently, wings creating a protective cocoon around us. “I more than care, Finn Hughes.”
But he’s already asleep, breath evening out, face peaceful in slumber.
Perhaps someday I’ll find the courage to name the emotion that grows stronger within me each day. For now, I’m content to hold him close and stand guard over his dreams, this strange human who has somehow become more important to me than all the power and glory of Hell.
Mine to protect. Mine to cherish. Mine.
Chapter 7
The first warning comes on an ordinary Tuesday, exactly one month and three days into what Finn now cheerfully refers to as our “demon-human partnership.”
I’m in the clinic reception area, terrorizing an insurance representative over the phone (“No, your denial of coverage is unacceptable. Yes, I can absolutely make this an escalating problem for you personally.”), when the temperature in the room plummets so dramatically that the fish tank behind the desk develops a thin layer of ice.
Finn, emerging from an exam room with a recently vaccinated poodle and its owner, freezes mid-sentence as his breath becomes visible in the suddenly frigid air.
“Uh, weird AC malfunction,” he tells the confused client, hurriedly finishing their transaction. “Josie, why don’t you take lunch early? I’ll deal with the… thermostat issue.”
Once the humans are safely out of sight, he turns to me with wide eyes. “Please tell me this is just you having a bad day and not what I think it is.”
I end my call abruptly, already scanning the surrounding area with senses beyond human perception. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”
The air thickens with an oily, sulfurous scent that has Finn wrinkling his nose. “Valefar?”
“No,” I reply, moving closer to him protectively. “A message from Valefar. A warning.”
As if on cue, the computer screen behind the reception desk flickers, then displays a message in glowing red text that sizzles against the screen:
FOUND YOU, MORAX. ENJOYING YOUR LITTLE PET HUMAN? SUCH A CHARMING WEAKNESS YOU’VE DEVELOPED. PERHAPS I’LL COLLECT HIM FOR MY MENAGERIE.
Finn reads the message over my shoulder, swallowing hard. “That’s… not great.”
“No,” I agree grimly. “It’s not.”
The text vanishes, replaced by a countdown: 3 DAYS.
The screen goes black, then returns to normal as the temperature gradually rises back to comfortable levels.
Finn runs a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture of agitation. “So we have three days until what? Valefar shows up to turn me into a pet? Or turn you back into one?”
“Until he makes his move,” I correct, mind already racing through defensive strategies. “Which gives us time to prepare.”
“Prepare how? I don’t exactly have demon-fighting equipment in my supply closet.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, I find his dry humor oddly reassuring. Even facing supernatural threats, Finn remains… Finn.
