Page 116 of The Devil's Trials

You’re playing a different game now, I remind myself. The demon world is dark and twisted, and I need to adjust my perception of things if I’m going to make it out alive.

“So you’re going to hunt him down and execute him?”

Xander’s hands curl into fists. “Hunting him won’t be necessary. He’s already sent a warning of what’s coming.”

My stomach sinks, and something makes me reach for him, covering his fists with my hands. “What’s coming?”

His shoulders rise and fall before he turns his face to meet my gaze. “An army that Marrick is building by creating demons.”

I tighten my grip on his hands without even realizing it until his eyes flick downward briefly. “Creatingdemons? Is that even possible? I mean, how would that work?”

He shakes his head. “This is the first I’ve heard of it, but I’m inclined to say yes. Marrick doesn’t use empty threats.” He turns his hands over, lacing his fingers through mine. “My council is looking into it.”

Right. His council. I have yet to meet them—besides Blake, of course—and the idea they know more about me than I do them puts me on edge. Meeting new people is anxiety inducing as it is. With the added layer of tension to this scenario, I’d much rather avoid them while I’m here, though I get the feeling I can only do that for so long.

“Is Gio part of your council?”

“No. Gio refuses to get involved in the politics of our world. He’s just a good friend.”

I nod. “If Marrick is planning tomakedemons, we need to stop him before he can.”

He traces his thumb in a light circle on the back of my hand. “And we will. I don’t want you to worry about this.”

My brows inch up my forehead. “You know who you’re talking to, don’t you?”

Xander smiles faintly. “Of course.” He shifts closer, brushing my thigh with his as he leans in and lowers his voice. “As much as you don’t want to be here, I’m selfishly glad you are.”

Heat rises in my cheeks, my lips parting as my eyes dart between his, searching for a hint of what’s going on in his head.

“Xander,” I murmur.

“Camille,” he levels.

“Kiss me.”

He releases one of my hands to reach up and cup the side of my face. I lean in to his touch, pulling in a breath before his lips crash down on mine. My eyes shut of their own volition, and I close the remaining distance between us, pulling my hand from his to grab the front of his shirt and tug him in.

Xander snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me onto his lap, deepening the kiss and pushing his fingers into my hair to cradle my head. My heart thunders in my chest as my head spins, and I lose myself to the sensations flooding through me. It’s far too easy to push everything else away when we kiss.

I shouldn’t want this—shouldn’t wanthim—but I can’t deny my need for him. Even if I loathe the part of me that does.

Pushing him back onto the mattress, I straddle him as our lips move in sync, just as they always have. I lower myself until my chest is pressed to his, and our hearts pound against our rib cages, desperate to be close to each other.

The pressure in my chest heightens tenfold and my lungs ache, but I don’t break the kiss. I’m terrified of what the end of this moment will bring. I’m not ready to face it.

Xander pulls his lips from mine, and I hover over him as we catch our breaths. When I finally open my eyes, I find him gazing up at me with a look so consuming it threatens to steal the air from my lungs anew.

“What are we doing?” I breathe, shifting to move off him.

He catches my hips, keeping me in place, and his hands on me makes my pulse surge. Heat pools low in my stomach, and I gasp sharply when he rolls us onto the middle of the bed and pins me beneath him. The weight of him sends sparks of anticipation racing across my skin, and I already know I’m playing a losing game against my willpower to resist him.

“You’re going to tell me what you want me to do,” he says, leaning in until his lips brush mine again, “and I’m going to do it.”

My entire body flushes with warmth, my throat going dry as I search his expression.He’s serious.

I press my lips together, lowering my gaze to his chest as I try and fail to ignore the throbbing between my thighs.

“Eyes on me,” he says, snagging my chin and lifting my face until our gazes meet. “That’s better.”

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