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I nod. “That thrills me.”
He crushes me into his arms, breath ragged. “I will raise our child in firelight. Feed them stories made from your laugh. Build them a world from your fury and softness.”
My throat tightens. “You’re dangerous.”
He leans in, forehead to mine. “I’m yours.”
And then I pull a gift from beneath the cushion where I tucked it hours ago. A circlet of bone, vines, and jet-black gemstones.
His breath catches. “How—?”
“Kenny,” I say quickly. “I told him what I wanted to do, and he started bringing me things. That bat understands more than he lets on.”
Daddy nods. “He’s older than he looks.”
“It’s not perfect,” I say. “But I wanted to do something for you. Something I hoped you’d like. I want to make Daddy proud of me.”
He stares at it so long I start to worry maybe Kenny was toying with me, or didn’t understand anything at all, and I’m like a cat bringing in a dead rodent, expecting to be told what a good girl I am.
“It is perfect, and I am proud of you. More than you could know,” he says finally, and I see those red tears falling from his eyes.
I stand. He stays right where he is on his knees and bows his head so I can reach. Even so, I have to go up on my toes to settle it between his horns.
“My queen,” he growls, voice broken. “You give me a crown, and I will give you eternity.”
Chapter 15
His primal animal scent mixes with pine and the crunch of damp leaves under my combat boots.
I shiver and wrap my arms around myself, snuggling into an oversized Dolly Parton hoodie he brought back from one of his trips. My tooth necklace digs sharp into my skin, but I don’t mind. It reminds me of how far we’ve come together, and how far Daddy is willing to go for me.
We’re on the cusp of winter now. I lose track of time. I still sleep, but not like I used to.
Days of being relentlessly fucked in my demon’s lair, as if he’s making extra sure it took, have left me deliciously sore and a little stir-crazy, so I begged for a walk.
“Daddy…” I use the word that gets me what I want every time. “I’m pregnant, not sick, but I’m like a houseplant. I need air and light.”
He grunts, which I’ve learned is demon for fine, but I hate it.
“I decide where we will go. I want to show you something.”
“Onward, grumpy, furry, Mr. Big Cock.”
He spins around, his eyes flaring, but I wave my hand toward his midsection, and he shrugs.
“Big is relative, but okay. I can’t help it. I spent nearly a thousand years celibate without a hint of a hard-on. Now that you are here, I’m…what do humans say?” He scratches one of his ears, then snaps his fingers. “Perma-hard.”
I snort and do a little prance-and-pirouette in my boots. “Because you looooooove me.”
He’s walking at my pace, which for him is basically standing still, and he keeps himself between me and every shadow in the woods, including one that turns out to be a stump.
We reach a clearing, and my breath catches. In the center stands an ancient stone altar, and upon it, a weathered wooden cross in the shape of an X.
”It’s never been touched since I built it the first year I was here.”
“Wow,” I say, stepping toward it. “Nothing says romance like a medieval torture rack.”
“It was never for torture.” He watches me, eyes glowing red. “It was for holding a bride exactly where I wanted her. Except I never wanted one in this way before you.”
