Page 39 of A Realm of Fire and Ash

"Would've what?" he asks.

"Let us both take her." I sigh. "But she loves another."

Agony rips through me at the thought. My only comfort is knowing she'll never get to go back to him. The only chance she has at reuniting with him is if he dies and is sent here. Considering she's so innocent and pure, he probably is, too, and he will end up beyond the veil. It gives me some measure of comfort, knowing I won't have to share her with any more males. Though ... if he's keeping her from being with us, maybe I'll drag him to hell.

Aggonid is so determined to deny what he feels for her, but I see it in his face. Feel it in his heart. Just as my own beats for them both, his beats for us.

A knock sounds at the door before Aggonid can respond to me, and he shouts for them to come in. The smell of sizzling eggs and buttery pastries permeates the room as servants push the door open, carting in a full meal and setting it on the table across the room.

"Would you like us to serve you in bed, my lord?"

"No, but I need you to get me Azazel."

The servants bob their heads and scurry away, pulling the door shut behind them.

Morte stirs, and once she realizes where she's at—in my arms—she scrambles back. I hate when she does that. Doesn't she know I just want to hold her?

"What was that about Azazel?" she asks, her voice still groggy with sleep, and it's the cutest fucking thing I've ever heard.

"Say that again," I whisper.

"What?"

"Enough," Aggonid clips. "The food is getting cold."

Morte snaps her attention to him, looking wary.

"No ground gnomes," I whisper to reassure her.

She crawls out of bed, approaching the table with tentative steps, and I follow her. She mutters something under her breath before sitting down and reaching for the food, but I stop her.

"Let me.” I place my hand on hers, my warmth seeping into hers.

Aggonid stares us down, his features twisted with a storm of emotions, from rage to sorrow. He violently turns away, smacking his temples with the heels of his hands and grinding his teeth so hard his jaw clicks. Every inch of him screams with seething anger.

I make her a plate and set it in front of her. She takes a hesitant bite before letting out a groan that goes straight to my dick.

A smile spreads across my face as I make myself a plate and join them. Morte hums happily, scarfing down the food as though she'd been starved for days. I watch her, unable to take my eyes off the gentle sweep of her lashes and the soft fullness of her lips as she eats. The same lips I'd devoured last night.

When she finishes, I slide my plate over to her and she takes it gladly.

I might've spelled it to put her in a good disposition, but she doesn't have to know that. Resting my chin in my palm, I watch her eat with a kind of satisfaction, knowing it's me who made her happy. So what if I had a little help from my magic. I should've done this weeks ago.

From the scowl Aggonid sends me, he's probably figured it out, too. Oh well.

He should've thought of it first.

Morte leans back, sighing in contentment. "I'm stuffed."

"You could be," I purr, earning me a grin from her.

Aggonid clears his throat, drawing our attention to him.

"Yes, love?"

He turns towards Morte. "I'm going to need you to unlock the chains once we've retrieved the key," he smiles sweetly at her. He's using my spell to make her more agreeable.

"Mmm," she hums. "I don't think so."

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