Page 80 of Demon Food

“No. No, I’m afraid it didn’t work.”

My eyes bulged.

“What if you tried kissing me just once more?” he asked, a hint of a smile curling one side of his mouth. “That should probably do the trick.”

I blinked.

A joke? That was…a joke?

I was on top of him, my hand was a stinging, bloody mess, I just barely avoided certain death, and he was fucking joking?

Blame it on his flippancy in this moment. Or his flippancy since the beginning. Or maybe the pain in my hand or the collar around my neck or the adrenaline falling around us like a heavy rain, but I couldn’t stop it.

I reared back. Then I slapped this demon hard across the face.

A grunt flew past his lips as his head jerked to one side, and for a moment, time stopped.

But then he burst into a chuckle—because of course he fucking did—and the sound was low and sultry. Sexy.

He was still laughing when he twisted back to me, stretching his chiseled jaw side to side, and gods, I hated it.

I hated how he didn’t care about anything. I hated how I cared about everything, including him.

I especially hated how I did not hate him. Not at all.

“You know what, Prince of Novithia?” I said, leaning down into him, jamming the cigarette between his teeth. “Fuck you.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, holding it between his teeth as he tried to snatch my arm, but I twisted free. “Snow Fox, wait⁠—”

“Do not.” I stumbled from the bed, swiveling around to jab a finger at him. “Do not Snow Fox me. Do you have any appreciation for what kind of danger I’m in? What could’ve happened just now?”

“I did not mean to make light.” He pushed himself up to a seat. “For that, I’m sorry⁠—”

“And those,” I said, flinging a hand toward the cigarette between his fingers. “That’s how you do it. That’s how you pretend to be so different.”

He parted his lips to speak, then resolved into a nod. “They’re how I manage.”

“Manage? Manage what? To lie to everyone, including me? You should’ve fucking told me, Alek.”

“I tried,” he argued. “I tried to say no, but you insisted⁠—”

“You should’ve fucking told me about you,” I shouted. “How you’re not different. That there’s nothing broken inside you. You should’ve told me the truth, so at least I would know what I was dealing with.”

He stared at me for a long time as a heaviness settled over the room. “When?”

I searched his gaze. “When what?”

“When exactly would you have me tell you the truth, my love? The second we met?”

I bounced a little.

“When you showed up chained to my room, was I to say, Oh, I’m sorry for your luck, terrified human, but just so you know, I want to lick every inch of you?”

My nostrils flared.

“Hello, terrified human. My name is Alek. Am I a virgin? Why, yes, I am.” He swung his legs off the bed, pushing himself to a stand. “I’m also consumed with thoughts of you. Consumed with what it’d feel like to hold you down and fuck you.”

I gulped.