or feeding each other. Crux is especially fond of scooping up the whipped cream on his finger from the small dessert bowl and putting it into my mouth for me to suck off. I’m pretty fond of it too.
When we’ve finally eaten our fill, the guys clear off the bed, leaving the trays and plates out in the hall for the imps, and I’m so sated that I’m in a happy, gluttonous daze.
Good food, incredible sex, and now I have two of my guys on either side of me, both of them running their hands over my skin. I didn’t bother to get dressed into clothes, but I’m wearing a gray silk robe that was left in the bathroom. I have it on backward so that my wings aren’t an issue, but the fabric keeps slipping down my chest so that I have to continually pull it back over my shoulders.
“You mentioned you went to your Rings to heal faster after the Vestibule battle,” I say, looking over at them where they’re propped up against the headboard on either side of me, my wings tucked tightly against my back.
“Yeah, Echo and I went into Trēs for a bit. Only long enough to fully heal.”
“Did you see your family?” I ask curiously. I know from the walk to the Vestibule that Crux has family, but Echo doesn’t. I want to know more about these demons, especially now. We’ve crossed a line, not just because of the sex, but because we’ve all seemed to claim each other without the unnecessary fanfare and back and forth. We just...are. And now that we’re connected, I want the rest of the intimacy that goes with it. The physical, the emotional, everything.
“I did,” Crux nods. “I’ve got my folks and a few brothers who live in Trēs.”
“What’s it like there?”
He shrugs. “Hell isn’t so different from the way mortals live here. We have jobs, houses, families, friends. Trēs is just the middle management, so to speak. We keep the day to day demon things running for Hell. The boring stuff, like growing food and making clothes. It’s the more powerful demons, like Nihil or Ūnus and even Duo, who have certain jobs to maintain the balance in the different realms. But for me, being a Trēs is a lot like living in a middle class suburb.”
I take in his words, my mind chewing on them as I try to picture what growing up in his world would’ve been like.
“I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that my mom and dad weren’t my biological parents,” I admit quietly as I trace the still shadows that have sunken back into Echo’s arm.
Echo hums in thought. “I’m sure you are. That’s a big realization. It’s going to take time.”
“I just...It’s stupid, but it feels like I’m betraying my parents somehow. Like by learning that I’m not really their blood daughter, it…lessens what I had with them. Or maybe it doesn’t, I don’t know. It’s all so confusing. They didn’t tell me I wasn’t theirs, and I just don’t know what to think about that.”
“Maybe they didn’t tell you that because they didn’t think it was true,” Echo tells me, his thumb gently brushing over my hip. “Whether they conceived and birthed you themselves or not, I bet you were theirs the minute they set eyes on you. That love can be more powerful than some genetic connection that isn’t there. They will never stop being your parents, and your relationship with them is unique and untouchable.”
My breath comes out in a puff, because even though I knew he was going to say something like that and try to make me feel better, it still helps. It’s what I need to hear to reassure myself that it’s true. Sometimes when we doubt, we know that those thoughts aren’t right or even logical. But we still need to hear that voice of reason to help reinforce the truth.
Ray and Tanya Gates were who I cuddled and looked up to my whole life. They read me my bed time stories, cleaned my owies, taught me to ride a bike and drive a car. My mom showed me how to throw a punch, and my dad screamed his face off when I scored my first goal and ran my first home run. They are who raised me, and they are who I’ve mourned and missed for the past nine years. Their blood may not run through my veins, but their