Page 43 of Fated to the Demon Lord

“Can’t I hum?” I asked as he turned us into our next step. “This is fun.”

“An army of spirits is out to kill you, and you think this is a time for fun?”

I gave a small shrug. “Life is always going to be hell. The key is to find the moments that aren’t and enjoy them.”

He produced a dark chuckle. “Who would have thought that you would be an optimist?”

“More of an opportunist.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips. “Yes, that describes you perfectly.” He pulled me a little closer and suddenly I was aware of the gentle press of his nails against my spine, the feel of his body so near to mine. The amusement on his face faded. “Then, by the gods, don’t let me ruin the moment.” He began to pull away.

I grasped him, not letting him go. “You’re not,” I said softly.

He was so much taller than me that I must have seemed weightless in his grip, like something delicate he could direct however he pleased. My gaze traced the hard line of his neck, the corded muscle there, then traveled upward to the sharp cut of his jaw before meeting his luminous eyes.

A darkness flickered in his expression, and a sudden rush of heat unfurled low in my stomach.

The hand on my back tightened, holding me firm to him as he bent me backward into a slow dip until our faces hovered inches apart. His breath stirred the loose strands of hair near my cheek. His body was solid and unyielding against mine, his chest hard beneath my hands. Gods, he was strong—powerful enough to snap my body in seconds.

The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it made my pulse stutter, that molten warmth inside me twisting tighter. My gaze drifted to his lips, so close to my own, and I found myself wondering how they’d feel against my fragile skin—whether it would be gentle or if the sharp prick of his teeth would graze me.

Shit. If he kissed me now, I wasn’t sure I’d stop him.

He straightened and withdrew, releasing me. “I must go scouting. See who is in the area before we leave here tomorrow.” He spun away from me.

The loss of his nearness left me empty and confused. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” He refused to meet my gaze as he stalked toward the door. “But I must be going.”

He was lying. I’d done something to upset him. I had no idea what, as I was far from bothered. But he kept moving away, and panic tightened around my ribs. No, I didn’t want him to leave. The thought hit me with sudden, frantic urgency before I could stop it.

“Or you could possess me,” I blurted.

He stilled and slowly turned to face me. Something dark and heated was held in his gaze. He didn’t fully meet my eyes. “Now?” he bit out in a low voice.

I spread my arms and closed my eyes. “Now.”

He huffed a small laugh. “Give me a minute.”

I waited with my eyes shut. And waited.

And waited.

When I thought maybe he might have tricked me—and that he had left while I wasn’t looking—fear gripped me and I opened my eyes.

Vaelor stood in front of me, watching me intently. “Relax and let everything go.”

“Yes, my lord,” I whispered.

The instant he pressed into me, my entire body trembled. Release. Give yourself to him, I told myself.

He advanced further, and I sensed his darkness, his vulnerability—all of him.

I didn’t resist. I yielded to the relentless pull of his presence.

Well done, human. That was almost seamless, he murmured in my mind.

I felt the pressure to step, and I allowed it. Each movement was a beat of pressure and release. As soon as I felt, I gave.