Page 126 of Dancing With Demons

“Turns out the price of the sub bond is that if it’s ever broken, the person who cast the bond loses their life,” Tristan said. “That is one of the many reasons why demons stopped doing it. There are many ways to control someone, so why trade your life?” He jabbed a hand over his shoulder. “But that stupid dead lunatic doesn’t know how to turn it down when it comes to you.”

I shouldn’t be smiling. I really, really shouldn’t. But a tiny smile slipped out all the same. “He really does love me, doesn’t he.”

“He does.” Tristan tickled my side, squealing a giggle out of me as he smiled back. “He’s also lucky that trading your life can have multiple meanings. Instead of dying, the magic stole his beauty. He’s no longer got that mythical, legendary, can-command-armies-with-just-a-look face anymore, Charlie.

“Which means he can no longer sit on the throne of sloth. His future as lord is over.”

My smile vanished in an instant. “Wait, what? You can’t be serious. He can’t be Lord Sloth anymore just because his face lost its freaky juju? But that’s ridiculous! What does his father say?”

He jerked his chin toward the door. “Ask him. He’s ready to see you now, but he wants you to brace yourself. He doesn’t need a glamour anymore, so he’s not wearing one. You’re going to see the real him now, Charlie.

“And I hope you point and laugh.”

I rolled my eyes. I did not understand the relationship between these two. They absolutely hated each other, but they were also the best of friends.

But I won’t be the one to tell them that, I thought as I reached for the doorknob. They’ll have to figure it out on their own.

“Sniff, sniff.”

I jerked, twisting around as Tristan snapped back.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to smell you like that out of nowhere, it’s just...” Despite his apology, he inhaled deeply—scrunching his nose as he did. “Are you wearing a new perfume or something?”

“Perfume? No.” I sniffed my collar and smelled nothing. “I don’t even have perfume down here. Why?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just... you smell different.”

“Different? Different how?”

“You smell...” Tristan’s frown only deepened. “New.”

“Wha—?”

Tristan tossed his head, losing the scowl. “I gotta go, but hit me up after you’re done with that shithead.”

“Oh, uh, okay.”

I waved him off, then went inside.

Ronin was sitting up in his bed, his face obscured by the mirror he was holding.

“Is that the mirror you’ve been using to spy on me?” I asked. “Because I’ll be having that now.”

“Baby girl, brace yourself. You’re going to see what I look like now.”

Ronin lowered the mirror, and I gasped.

It was him. Sitting before me was the Ronin I knew and the face I knew. Raven hair still thick and curling around two iridescent horns. His eyes were still downcast, almond-shaped jewels. His skin was still breakable porcelain. His jaw still smooth perfection. His lips were still small little puckered things, and his nose still long and hooked.

Everything was the same... and not. I couldn’t explain it, but somehow, Ronin’s face was all of those things and more now. His hair was a deeper, purer black. His ruby eyes shone ten times as bright. His skin looked smoother, and his lips were even more pillowy and inviting—daring me to deny him a kiss.

“Wow,” I breathed. “You’re—”

“Hideous,” he finished, glaring into the mirror. “How can you stand to look at me?”

“Wow, dude.” I dropped down next to him. “If you think that face is hideous, you must struggle to keep down your breakfast whenever you see mine.”

Ronin frowned, his perfectly plucked brows drawing together. “What are you talking about? You’re the most beautiful creature there ever was or will be.”