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He closes his eyes and groans as if he just can’t help himself. God, that’s satisfying. He grunts, his hips slamming home, before he shudders. His wings snap open and arch high above us both.
I canfeelhim climaxing inside me. Every throb of his cock.
I wish he could get me pregnant.
But hell no, that’s a terrible idea. Just an instinctive urge to have his baby because I’m in heat. Even though it’s impossible.
I banish that thought into oblivion. Thank God he can’t read my mind.
When Rook slides out of me, his seed spills down my thighs. His wings and tail melt into shadows before vanishing. Breathing hard, I stare into the night. My body feels boneless. The wind cools the sweat from my skin. Inexplicably, my eyes sting with tears, for some godforsaken reason. I close them tight.
“Pyrah?”
He’s crouching silhouetted against the moon. Waiting for me to respond.
“Nothing,” I say. “Just…wow.”
He tilts his head. “Are you crying?”
“No,” I lie.
His hand rests on my thigh. “Did I hurt you?”
“I’m a little sore,” I admit, though that’s not why I’m so emotional.
Truthfully, I don’t know why I’m feeling this way. This was fucking, nothing more. Wasn’t it?
“Come with me,” he says gruffly.
He takes my hand and tugs me to my feet. I follow him downstairs to the bottom of the tower, where he makes another blood sacrifice to the roses. The vines untangle and let us pass. He’s still utterly naked, but he strolls outside without hesitation.
“This way,” he says.
He walks along the outside of the ruined castle, Hexfall. Shadowed by ferns, there’s an archway that leads into a courtyard. Moss cloaks the statue of a long-forgotten king. I can tell he’s a king only by his crown.
I peer up at the statue. “Who was he?”
“King Mallex the Wrong.”
I glance at Rook, surprised he knows. Then I remember he’s the bastard son of the last king. It’s easy to forget, since he’s not human like all our rulers have been.
“One of your ancestors?” I ask.
“My great-great-grandfather.” He shrugs. “No one remembers King Mallex. I’m the only one who comes to Hexfall.”
It all makes sense. For Rook, the Thornwood doesn’t mean death. He doesn’t fear straying from the Emperor’s Road and journeying into the darkness where monsters lurk. He is a monster. This ruined castle is a place of safety for him, and it should have been his inheritance as the Gray Prince.
This isn’t a place of nightmares for a demon. This is his home.
He keeps walking. “Follow me.”
When we exit the courtyard, we enter a room of faded grandeur. Arches lift the roof high above us, and moonlight pours through a skylight at the apex. Rainwater glimmers in a square pool that’s overgrown with green. Marble flooring peeks through a tattered carpet of moss.
“What is this place?” I ask.
“The royal baths.”
I turn down the corners of my mouth. “The royals must have been filthy rich.”
