The Demon King Davian

“Well, there’s always the chance I can talk you into returning to the castle with me until we’ve resolved this issue.”

Yes, in the back of his mind, that was still his deepest want and desire—along with making her immortal. And it was true he could force her hand. He possessed the power to demand she stay within his walls while his army hunted the outlaw demons, not merely request she go with him. But he was smart enough to know she’d be miserable away from her home for an extended period of time.

Not to mention the slayers and villagers would be in an absolute uproar over him spiriting her off again.

“I can follow your strategy for now,” she said, her breath warm against his neck. “I’ll continue to let the slayers escort me into the village when I go and I’ll keep to the cottage otherwise until the trouble passes.”

Her agreement with his precautionary measures put him slightly at ease. But it still irritated him that he had no control over her full protection. Not unless he ordered her to follow his command, that was. While a heavy hand might keep her from getting killed, she’d be distraught, anyway. So he had to find a compromise. Strike a balance.

“You won’t be left to fend for yourself, I assure you,” he said. “But after tonight, I’ll need to continue to keep an ample distance. I have to make it appear as though I’ve tired of you. The fire wraith will find another tactic to engage me, which won’t involve you.”

She gnawed her lip before asking, “It’s just a guise, right?”

He grinned, despite the piercing sensation in his heart over her hint of doubt. “You already know the answer to that. You called my bluff, after all.”

“So it truly would be hell for you if I were to marry Michael?”

“I don’t have to agonize over that anymore, now do I?”

She snickered. “You knew the answer to that before you even made the proposition.”

“It’s not an unreasonable scenario.”

“Had it been proposed a month ago, no,” she said. “But now… Yes. It is.”

His hands gently cupped her face, the gesture urging her to glance up at him. “I’ve done a lot of things wrong by my own conscience. My misguided intentions have benefited the demon world, but I didn’t stay true to my personal convictions. I can’t help but think this situation that has come about with you is my punishment.”

“Careful,” she said, as a tinge of light flickered in her eyes—one he’d never seen before from her it was so flirtatious. “You’re about to call me punishment.”

A low growl slipped from his mouth. “You find the strangest times to tease me.”

“I can’t help it. Aside from me, you’ve got to be the most tormented person in existence.”

He stood suddenly, with her in his arms. “Luckily, there are ways to ease some of that torment.”

She smiled, her lips curling against his throat. Enticing him. “Now you’re talking sensibly, my Lord.”

“Don’t mock me, woman.”

“Never.”

It wasn’t difficult navigating the small abode to find her bedroom. Though the double mattress with the aged frame gave him pause.

“You sleep here?” he asked, his territorial instincts kicking in—specifically, his desire to make her life more comfortable. Lavish, even. He could still picture her vividly in his well-appointed bed with sheets that were new, not worn and tattered. She deserved more than the modest environment she refused to leave.

“It’s not a master suite in the castle, no. But try not to knock my home. I like it here, remember?”

“I do as well,” he asserted. “You could benefit from some improvements, though.”

“Don’t go trying to marry me off again so I’ll have a man to spruce the place up. Everything in here is sufficient.”

Or exactly how it had been when her parents were alive?

Davian found the thought troubling. He did not want to insult her, but it was hard to quell the urge to send his own interior decorators to replace all the furnishings that appeared to be on their last legs. Not for his personal pleasure, since this would be his one and only visit. But for hers.

“Are you wondering if you’ll fit in my bed?” She broke into his thoughts. They still stood in the middle of the room.

“It’s obviously not long enough for my height. Perhaps not even sturdy enough for my weight.”