with a blasé attitude, he surprises me by scooting closer and then reaching past the bars to grab my hand. I go still at the movement, my breath caught in my chest as I watch him looking down at my hand as he twists it palm up.
With one hand cradling it, his other hand begins to trace the lines of my palm. His fingertip barely grazes over my skin like a whisper, and it somehow feels like one of the most intimate touches I’ve ever had.
“You asked me what kind of demon I am,” he says, his voice staying in that subdued tone of his, like we’re in a crowded room and he wants our conversation to be only for us. “What I am...it’s defined me for my entire life, and it defined everyone in my bloodline for all of their lives, too.”
I watch his face as he watches my palm, his finger never stopping as he continues to follow the lines on the inside of my hand, tracing up each finger, and then between them, not even caring that my hand is dirty, that I have grime coated into my skin that the trickle of water I have in the sink can’t get rid of. Instead, he’s holding it, looking at it like it’s something precious.
I don’t know what exactly changed from the talk we had about mates and maybes until now. But something has. I can feel it.
“I know what you mean when you say you want the chance to live as your real self.” Golden eyes flick up to me for a brief second. “I want that too—not just as what I am, but as who I am. And I want that for you, Sable. You deserve that.”
Tears brim in my eyes, but I blink and watch our hands so he can’t see the effect he’s having on me. For so long, I’ve been starved of this. Of simple affection. Of a comforting touch. Of connection.
Even with my ex, I never had this. With Matt, I was always pretending, always faking it. Playing a part and behaving the way I thought I needed to in order to fit into a world that wasn’t meant for me. And even though I know what Toreon is doing—distracting me from my worry over Medley—I’m grateful. Not just because he’s trying to calm me down, but because he’s opening up, something I have a feeling he never does with anyone besides Vudu.
“You’re right about me, you know,” he says, his thumb coming up to graze over the vein in my wrist. “I did give up. I actively try not to care or hope. I’ve been with Morax for so long. I’ve been forced to use power. I’ve watched the last of my kind die at his hand. I never thought I was getting out of here. It was too much to think otherwise.”
“But that changed because Vudu is here now?”
He tilts his head. “That’s partially the reason. If anyone can get me out, it will be that stubborn bastard,” he says with a quirk of his lips.
“And what’s the other part?”
He twists my palm so that he can start tracing patterns over the back of my hand. “If I say you, are you going to give me shit about it?” he teases.
I choke out a surprised laugh, even as a blush blooms over my cheeks. A secret thrill runs through me at his admission. “I don’t know, are you going to be all cheesy about it?” I joke.
He gives a small, close-lipped smile. “I’m a demon. Demons aren’t cheesy,” he says, trying to keep a straight face.
“You totally want me to be your mate,” I say with a grin that I can’t stop from spreading.
To my immense amusement, he blanches slightly, like he’s suddenly embarrassed. I smile. “I mean, you kind of showed your hand with your tantrum and threats to force Morax to choke on his entrails because of a kiss.”
His expression turns serious. “Don’t do that. Don’t downplay what he’s taking from you, from me, in doing what he did.”
“I’m not downplaying it,” I retort. “It was awful, but it could have been worse, and I’m not going to make a bigger thing of a kiss than it was.”
I try not to think of how Morax tasted or how his tongue felt. I try to scrub it from my mind, but I fail. I just don’t want to show Toreon how shaken up I am. I don’t want to