Page 92 of Demon Food

Yet. It washed down my body with the warmth of a hot bath.

Yet. As in not tonight. But someday.

“Do you think a demon could fall in love with a human?” I asked. “Fall in love with their food.”

His smirk was cute. “That’d be even more absurd.”

I scoffed, “More like preposterous. What even would that look like?”

“It’d look like madness. Why, just think of the backlash.”

“I hate to think of the backlash, Feloré. There’s nothing I hate more than upsetting norms.”

He grinned, his gaze drifting lazily over my face until sleep beckoned and his long eyelashes fluttered until they shut. His words were nearly slurred as he whispered, “G’night, Prince.”

I sucked the last of my herbs, hard enough to burn my fingertips from the ember. Then I held the smoke inside my lungs so that I might be this close. So that I might get even closer.

Close enough to press a single kiss against his forehead.

Smoke curled from my lips as I whispered against his skin, “Goodnight, baby.”

26

FELORÉ

Icouldn’t remember falling asleep last night, but Alek was already awake by the time I stirred.

I supposed I should’ve been startled to find him lying across from me, staring shamelessly like he was committing to memory every angle of my face, every lash on my lid as he offered me the kingdom’s sexiest smile.

It was a smile that made my insides wind around themselves, even as he said something so dramatic like, “Fucking gods, finally. You’ve been asleep for ages, and I have been made to lie here without the sound of your voice. Make it up to me, my little fox. Tell me of your dreams.”

I couldn’t say that I fully recognized myself today.

I wasn’t typically so smiley as I chatted with him. Or mirthful as I bathed. Or fucking giggly as I tried to eat a meal of wilted greens and spiced fig pastries, only to snort and snicker and stop to smack his arm while he did masterful impressions of his father, Neopal, Lucc, and the funniest of all, me.

I couldn’t be blamed for all the giggling. It wasn’t my fault. It was his.

I never thought I’d say it, but the future king of Novithia, a creature as powerful as he was deadly, was also…cute.

I now sat with my legs crossed in his window nook, his favorite book propped open in my lap. I knew it was his favorite book because he brought it to me wearing this ridiculous smile as he insisted I read it aloud to him.

He liked hearing me speak Vultaen. It awoke something inside him, which was why he was smoking a lot as he sat behind me, propping his chin on my shoulder, peering over so he could read along.

A literal demon on my shoulder.

“Try it again,” he said, poking me in the ribs. “What did the chimneys do?”

I dragged my gaze from him, squinting at the complicated Vultaen words on the page. They were stressed with so many different accent marks, any of which could alter the pronunciation completely. “The chimneys, um. The chimneys puffed in…”

“Clouds,” Alek supplied.

“Clouds,” I said, nodding at the word, committing it to memory. “Clouds of…some other fucking word I’ve never seen. Rav-eh. Rav-ehn?”

“Raven.”

“Ahh, raven. Like the bird.” I smoothed my finger under the intricate sentence. “I wasn’t meant for this w-world. I was born for the blue clean of the…” I’d seen the word that followed before. I’d seen it written somewhere in Terrek’s office. “Sapphire? Is that right?”

“Snow Fox.” He grinned against my shoulder, tickling my side as I squirmed. “Gods, you’re fucking brilliant. Mine. My brilliant human.”