Page 54 of Demon Food

He clearly derived great pleasure from wiggling beneath my skin. He was Alekus the unserious. Alekus the cocky. Alekus the Prince of Novithia who wanted…a revolution?

That was the thing driving me the maddest.

He’d said what he’d said last night. He could deny it all he wanted—Oh, whatever do you mean, darling? The kingdom is perfect. You can’t tell when you’re talking to a drunken dog? What a stupid, stupid human.

But I’d heard it. I’d heard the future king say what he said, and now, he wanted me to forget it. He held his hand over my mouth and insisted I forget it.

Gooseflesh pebbled down my spine as I averted my gaze to the floor, reliving the memory.

Gods, my body was so stupid. It was fucked up beyond belief that I’d even notice how pure and earthy he’d smelled in that moment, or how intensely he stared into my eyes as he whispered, I won’t hurt you, baby.

And I sure as fuck didn’t need to be wondering how he tasted when he came.

Demon cum tasted vaguely like whatever most occupied their minds. Adventurists might taste a bit like the spices from foreign lands, while warriors always tasted metallic, like blood. I’d tasted one that was quite sour only to find out he was a citrus merchant.

This one… A virgin by choice. A magically gifted royal. A revolutionist? He had to taste like one strongly brewed drug.

“Hello?” he asked. “Was it something I said that has you so entranced?”

I scowled. No. Well, sort of. Maybe. Shut up, Alek!

I turned my nose up at him and settled into a seat at the desk. The food was where my focus should be anyhow, which wasn’t that difficult. It was unbelievable looking, all so lovely and embellished. It looked like something out of a painting.

“Hmm, where to start?” Alek asked, narrating my inner dialogue. “Might I make a suggestion?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Eat the cake, sweetheart,” he said with a sexy smile in a deep voice that made me want to squirm in my seat. “Life is short. Eat the fucking cake.”

Stupid body. Stupid, reactive body.

I parted my lips to shush him when one of the sugar-dusted cakes lifted itself from the platter. A gasp interrupted my train of thought because there was a floating cake before me, jerking toward my plate like an erratic bumblebee. It did, however, gingerly place itself down.

Alek coughed horrendously, because of course he did, at the same time he sucked another drag of smoke into his lungs.

I blinked at the cake on my plate, then up at him, pinning him with a look. “You know, every time you do something like that, you’re only worsening your condition.”

He grinned. “Your concern for me is heartwarming.”

I flicked my gaze skyward as I flapped open a napkin. “It’s not concern. I was just pointing out⁠—”

“It’s lovely, your concern. I cannot believe how close we’ve grown in such a short time. If I wasn’t so emphatically evil, it’d be touched.”

Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. He was the most unserious vultus I’d ever met, and I’d met a lot.

The little cake was spongy as I pinched it between my fingers and brought it to my lips. It smelled like over-cooked butter, and when I bit into it, it tasted like…oh, my heavens. It tasted like nothing I’d ever had. It was sweet but not too sweet and the texture of a fluffy bread, only not. Only better.

I chewed with none of the grace I’d started with, and by the time I finished, I was sucking each of my fingers. Then I ate the next cake, and it was just as good. So good. So fucking good that I began chaotically piling food onto my plate with a metal serving spade because what if all of it was that good? I cut a big hunk of quiche. The whipped cheese. A biscuit. Half the berries.

I dropped the spade with a louder clatter than intended and began forking food into my mouth. The quiche was rich and creamy and had been made with what tasted like fresh herbs—not dried ones. Fresh. It was heavy and hearty, and I’d finished the whole slice in seconds, moving onto the whipped cheese which I ate by the heaping spoonful, not even bothering to spread it over anything.

“Well, is it good, my love?” Alek asked.

Shut up. I could feel my stomach begin to signal that I was full, but that couldn’t be true. That would be so unfair. A sick joke was what that would be.

“I c-can’t finish,” I muttered, holding a hand over my mouth as I chewed.

“I’m sorry?” Alek squinted as he leaned an ear toward me. “I cannot hear you with your mouth so…burdened.”