Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 130619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
I blanch when I realize it’s Gabriella’s voice, and my magic seeks that unique pathway and allows me to answer just her and her alone. Sleeping. The adrenaline wore off, and he crashed. One minute he was kind of himself, and the next he was just not.
When our body’s healing mechanism kicks in, it comes over us hard and fast. If we don’t get there on our own, the soto will push us over the edge.
The bath, I think. That was his push. Can I give him more soto?
That’s why I contacted you. He’s a big guy. Silas takes three times what I do. I’d give him three vials.
Even though I put it in his bath for him?
Yes, she replies. That’s fine.
Okay, thanks. Are you at the garrison?
Yes. It’s a bit rough here. Everyone is freaked out. No one here has ever seen an Archdemon. They’re scared, but everyone made it. On a separate note, Celine’s being an over-the-top bitch. And she really hates you. Despite everything that has happened, she still believes you’re with Jeremy and that Micah is somehow seduced by your demon magic.
My demon magic?! I ask incredulously, and I bite back a laugh at the ridiculousness of it, even as I ease onto the mattress beside Micah and press my hand to his chest. He doesn’t move, and I think, even in his current condition, that represents the kind of trust I’ve come to value.
I really do believe she thinks you’re dangerous, Gabriella adds.
That’s not exactly wrong, I concede.
You’re not dangerous to us. Before I can object and remind her that we must rid me of the serpent to make that true, she’s moved on, as if she doesn’t want to hear my objections. What’s crazy is, even seeing how foolish she acts over Micah, Zeke has it bad for her.
He does? I ask, incredulous.
Oh, yes, but she was a fuck buddy with Micah, and Zeke will never get by that. It’s weird to him. Like brothers passing around a woman.
He needs to stay away from her. It’s out before I can stop it.
Why? Where did that come from?
Something sits wrong with me about her.
What are you thinking?
Her reaction to me is too extreme, like she knows something she shouldn’t know.
I hope you’re wrong. You need to tell Micah. Yes. Yes, I think you’re right. He’ll need a good eight hours of sleep for that deep of an injury to fully heal. You get some rest, too.
Thanks, Gabriella.
And then, she’s gone. I feel the break in our communication, and for a moment, my mind settles on Celine, a niggling feeling of unease in me. I wonder now if that’s what Micah meant when he called her corruptible. There’s something dark radiating from her. I also find the perception that she’s a bitch interesting to me, and I wonder if it’s a new behavior or one that’s well established. In my legal work, I found exaggerated behaviors to be a place people often hide to draw attention away from what the person doesn’t want you to notice.
Micah moans softly, and for now, I set my concerns for Celine aside. I scoot closer to him and, with the aid of the house, produce two more vials of soto that I set on the nightstand. My hand presses to Micah’s face, a gentle touch meant to wake him, the thick growth of stubble rough against my palm. “Micah,” I whisper, and his eyes open abruptly. “Ember,” he says, body stiffening, his hand closing around my wrist. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Everything is fine. I didn’t mean to alarm you. We’re safe. I just need you to take another dose of soto.”
Relief washes over his face, and he hoists himself upward onto his elbows. Once the vials are empty, he drops back on the pillow, and with surprising strength, scoops me close and drags me under the blanket with him, the heat of our bodies mingling.
But a rough grunt follows, and the tight pull of his mouth declares he’s overexerted himself. I urge him to his back and snuggle to his side, his arm draped around me, telling me this is what he seeks. And once again, I press my hand to his heart, the slow, steady thrum eases my mind and my body into slumber, where I wish away the red-winged creature.
Instead, my mind is all about Micah, my thoughts transforming into a dream, a really good dream of his hands all over my body, of him thick between my legs, his mouth on my nipple, his tongue licking me there and everywhere. Him on top of me, the sweet bliss of the heavy, erotic weight of him. The moment he enters me, I’m arching into him, my legs wrapping his legs. He thrusts deep and hard, and then slow, so very slow, sliding in and out of me, teasing us both until I’m begging him for more. He leans in and kisses my neck, whispering naughty things in my ear, and I’m arching all over again, reaching for him. And when his mouth finds my mouth, when our tongues meet, it’s fire, passion, and wicked heat.