mind, followed by a hot rush of jealousy. With the females of this realm, he wouldn’t have to control his true nature.
He could be himself without apologizing.
Exhaling, she slid her focus back to the elixir. “Do I put it into his drink?”
“Ideally, you would consume it and then . . .”
She would become the drink. Bile soured her throat. “I don’t think that I can.”
“That’s good, because if he touches you like that, I will kill him, and that would be very bad for us.”
“What about slipping it into a cup full of blood?”
His jaw flexed, and he released a slow breath. “When you’re in the room, his entire being will be hyper-focused on you, nothing else. Do you understand?”
Unfortunately, she did. The only hunger the Demon Lord would feel was for her. “Can you tell me anything about him that might help me?”
“All I know is that the Demon Lords all made dark bargains with high level demons. Each one takes on that demon’s traits. It’s rumored that Malik’s demon resembled a serpent.”
She wrapped her arms tighter around herself to hide her shiver, but he noticed anyway. His eyes held hers as he kneeled, and again, she noticed a slight wince.
But then he reached out and cupped her chin, and her thoughts zeroed in on the feel of his long, cool fingers pressed gently into her flesh. The way his wings twitched.
He stared at her for a stretched-out beat of her heart. Then he tilted her face up to his. “You don’t have to do this. Say the word and we will find another way.”
The offer was tempting, but . . . “I can’t. Every day that I remain mortal puts us in danger, and I refuse to lose anyone else. By doing this, I can protect those I love.”
A fleeting emotion passed over his face, too brief to catalog.
“What?”
He released her chin, hesitated, and then brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “The way you love others, Haven, it’s extraordinary.”
He rose before she could respond, his focus drifting over the jar. “Do you still have the dagger?”
“Yes. I hid it beneath my mattress.”
“Coat the blade in the elixir. You will have to stab him, and it must be deep for enough of the potion to enter his body. Do you think you can do that?”
She grinned. “With pleasure. Will it kill him?”
“No. Demon Lords are protected by ancient, demonic spells and blood magick. You could stab him a thousand times and the demented bastard would laugh in your face.”
Her grin became a pout. “That’s disappointing.”
“There’s a reason the same Demon Lords have existed for countless millennia despite hating one another. Their demented magick makes them practically untouchable.”
“But not immune to that.” She nodded toward the tiny jar.
“Everyone has their weaknesses.”
Her head thunked back on the tub. Stabbing a Demon Lord who kept a harem of slaves was easy. Getting that Demon Lord to choose her over the countless other delectable options so she could stab him was . . . trickier. And completely out of her wheelhouse.
“How do I make him choose me tonight?”
“How?” Stolas’s face softened. “Do you really not know how marvelous you are?”
She didn’t know what to say to that.
He turned his back on her, one hand pressed to his flank. “You will be presented to the Demon Lord and his favorite courtiers late tonight.” He studied the outfits Imara had hung along the wall for Haven before holding up a sumptuous gown of pure black. Light caught in the hundreds of diamonds clinging to the deep neckline and sparkled like stars against the night sky. “Wear this and every male—and female—in that room won’t be able to tear their eyes from you, including me. If at any moment you feel uncomfortable, find me in the crowd.”
“You’ll be there?”
“From this moment forward, I won’t let you leave my sight.”
She arched a brow. “Even when I get out of the bath?”
His grin could only be described as lupine. “Especially then.”
She watched him meld back into the shadows. Then she washed her hair and oiled her body, taking her time. Only when the bath was tepid going on cold did she finally rise.
And from somewhere nearby came the faint but unmistakable sound of a low, wicked laugh.
47
Imara came for Haven around midnight. Haven had spent hours after her bath transforming every inch of herself into a vision worthy of a Goddess. Her skin was oiled into a supple sheen. Her hair brushed and styled so