Page 110 of Demon Food

I just noticed how much he was touching himself. He was grazing his fingertips over his collarbones, neck, and arms like it felt good.

“You know what is so tragic?” he asked, slinking closer, and he smelled different, too. Not the cassia bark, but a strong fragrance I didn’t quite recognize. “This whole time together, and not once have you asked me to dance.”

Was he…drunk? “My apologies, but it’s not really safe to ask you to dance right now, my love. Especially without a cig⁠—”

He took my hand in his, and I buzzed alive at the touch as he lifted my arm above his head, twirling himself once, laughing as he untwirled. “Well, I can see why. You’re terrible. As stiff as a tree.”

I twitched hard when he dragged his fingertips across my chest, circling my body where he gripped my shoulders from behind.

It stunned me still when he dug his thumbs into my muscles, massaging them firmly with deft hands.

“Cigarette,” I pleaded. “I fucking desperately need⁠—”

“About that.” He pushed up to his toes to whisper into my ear from behind, “Oops.”

I cut my gaze back to him. His mouth was so close to mine. “What does that mean?”

“You know what I want to see?” He twisted me around and looped his arms around my neck. “What you’re like without them.”

My body jolted like it’d been shocked as my fingertips slid up and down his muscular arms just to feel his soft skin.

“I want to see you fucking unhinged.”

It was like warning bells were trying to blare, but they were smothered beneath a swell of my own senses. Ignore it, insisted a voice from within. Take him. Bed him. EAT him.

What was happening? This wasn’t him. There was an imposter inside his body.

But he was so close to me. I was so close to him.

Which was how I finally noticed it.

It was so dark in here that I couldn’t see it before, but it was obvious that something was wrong. Very wrong.

“Hey,” I whispered, angling his chin upward with my fingers. “Look at me.”

He did as he was told. Gazing up with his striking blue eyes. Or at least they were normally blue. Now they were black. Seriously black. His pupils had been blown so wide that they nearly consumed every portion of the icy color.

“What in the kingdom?” I whispered, twisting his face to the side, my eyebrows furrowing. “Snow Fox. Why are your eyes like that?”

He didn’t respond, just sort of writhed beneath my touch like he was entranced by it.

“Feloré.” I wanted to shake him. “What’s happened?”

“He has my brother,” he said.

I searched his eyes, my head shaking as I tried to make sense of it. “Who?”

“Your father,” he whispered. “He has Landry.”

My eyes widened as a jolt of panic charged through me. I cupped his face in my hands. “He what? Why? What does he intend to do?”

“Do you want to know what I thought when I first met you?” he asked, squirming even more, dragging his nails down my stomach as I twitched. “I thought, how rare to see a vultus with freckles.”

I blinked.

“They’re so special, Prince.” His voice was a breathy mess, and it was like he was trying not to writhe but couldn’t help it. “They really are.”

“Darling,” I said, fear settling into my bones. “What did my father give you?”