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That was the cold, hard truth about it. A demon had saved me. After I had killed way too many of his kind to count, he stepped in and saved me, putting his own life in danger.
"Why don't the other demons listen to him?" I asked.
Alastor sighed and started rinsing the washcloth again. "It's complicated."
"We've got all night." I shrugged as I leaned back on the palms of my hands, propped against the mirror behind me.
"You really want to know?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow in question. At my nod, he pressed his lips together. "Bellamy is the spare."
"What does that mean?"
"You know royalty, right? He was born as a just-in-case. His brother Tristan is the true heir. But he had gone missing for a few years, most of his teen years and into his twenties. During that time, Bellamy did anything he could to make it clear he didn't want to rule. The demons might fear him, because he is ruthless, but they don't respect him enough for him to be King. So when he gives orders that are not backed up by the King of the Horde, they don't listen."
"That's horrible."
Alastor chuckled. "Which part? That he ran from his responsibility and followed me around instead or that they don't listen?"
"That royalty has children as just in case kids. How fucked up is that?" I turned my head on the glass and watched him try to find a response to my question. There wasn't one, not one that would make sense to me, at least.
"It's part of life. I imagine if your parents didn't have a girl with you, they would have kept trying. It is no different." His voice was indifferent, like it was just a part of life. If that was true, then his worldview was messed up.
"But it is different because they stopped having kids once I was born."
"They didn't stop after your brother was born," he pointed out.
"Because they wanted two kids. My parents are not the same. Don't paint them as monsters." I crossed my arms and glared at him.
Taking the hint, a small grin pulled at his lips. "I'm sure your parents are exceptional. They created you, did they not?"
"You can't insult my family and then try to charm me. It doesn't work that way," I scoffed. He only smiled more and unfolded my arms. "What are you doing?"
"Getting you cleaned up," he said. He reached for the bottom of my hoodie, and I slapped my hands down onto his.
"You can't undress me," I said.
It didn't matter if his touch was more clinical at the moment than sexual. He was still a very attractive man. Maybe he was the devil because he was trying to tempt me with the apple like I was Eve in the garden.
"I will not ravish you if that is what you are afraid of," he replied. "We aren't at that stage yet."
My eyes widened at his words, and my hands went slack. It sounded like he had our entire relationship planned out in his head. He took my shock as permission and slipped my shirt from my skin. His gaze didn't linger on my bra, and he turned away from me to turn on water for a bath, in a bathtub that looked big enough to fit at least four people.
"Bubbles?" He quirked an eyebrow as I lowered mine in confusion. I had never been around a man that didn't try to go all the way once my shirt was off, yet he was treating me like I was wearing all of my clothes still. "No?"
"Bubbles are good," I finally said. He nodded and poured a little vial of bubble bath into the tub.
"It isn't your usual scent, but I think the lilac and vanilla will soothe you," he said, facing the water. I slipped off of the counter, and the dog shifted to watch me curiously as I dropped my pants and removed my bra. The fabric was the only sound in the room, other than the flowing water, and Alastor had gone still, like a predator scenting prey.
With a deep-seated need to prove to myself that he wanted me, and was just being a gentleman, I waited for him to turn around to face me. I stood there in nothing but my panties. His shoulders moved in a breath before he turned to look at me. He kept his gaze on my face, but I saw the telltale bob of his Adam's apple in his throat. Maybe he wasn't the devil after all.
"How do you know what I normally use?" I stepped forward, and I swear if he could have, he would have taken a step back.
"I smell it on you," he replied.
"Do you like it?" I asked, taking yet another step.
His eyes dropped shut as he took a shuddering breath that shook his whole body. "Samantha, we can't."
"We can't?" I repeated as I laid my palm over his heart. It thudded rapidly against my fingers, probably as fast as mine was beating.
