Page 61 of The Devil's Trials

“You need to sit down before you fall over.” Noah’s voice sounds far away, echoing as though he’s talking to me from the bottom of a well.

I can’t seem to make my eyes open as my breathing quickens, and I reach out for anything to steady myself when my legs start shaking.

Xander catches me around the waist as I fall against him.

My ears ring, my throat seemingly clogged with cotton, and I feel uncomfortably warm and clammy. He gets me to the couch, then there’s a cool cloth pressed to my forehead and a glass of water held at my lips.

I manage to pry my eyes open to find Xander sitting next to me and holding the cloth, while Noah perches on the coffee table, tipping the water glass back so I can drink from it.

A few minutes later, I’ve cooled down and feel marginally better. Still weak, but the feeling of collapsing and passing out is gone.

Silence stretches between the three of us, though the tension between the demon and hunter hasn’t gone away. I doubt it ever will. I still don’t know how to feel about Xander being here, which was only made more complicated by Noah’s drop in, and if I was smart, I’d take this opportunity to kick Xander out.

At least I’d have Noah to back me up and physically remove him if needed, yet the words refuse to form on my tongue. Part of me wants him here even though I know deep down it’s the wrong choice. My heart strongly disagrees.

Noah’s phone chimes, and he sits back, pulling it out of his black jean jacket pocket and cursing at the screen. “I have to go.” He sets the water glass on the table beside him, his eyes shifting briefly to Xander before returning to me.

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” I attempt to assure him.

His eyes narrow slightly. “I shouldn’t leave you here with him.”

“I’d never hurt her,” Xander chimes in before I can respond, his voice low, as if he’s holding himself back from biting Noah’s head off.

Noah scoffs. “It’s a little fucking late for that,your majesty.”

“Okay,” I cut in sharply. “That’s enough.”

Noah stands, keeping his eyes on me. “Keep your phone with you,” is all he says before stalking to the door and slamming it shut behind him.

“It’s always so nice to see him,” Xander remarks dryly.

I sigh, falling back against the cushions. “What did you say to him before I woke up?”

“Nothing. He came in, saw me, and demanded I leave, as if he owned the place—and you.”

The air between us feels charged, and I shift away from him as my nerves have the hair on the back of my neck prickling. I can’t forget that, at his core, Xander is a predator. He’ll be king of the underworld soon enough—a monster. Even when he’s sitting in my living room or making me tea to help me feel better. He’s a walking contradiction to what a demon is supposed to be, and what I know them to be. Which makes our connection even more difficult to navigate.

Xander’s eyes flick between mine as he surveys my face. His attention is all-consuming, and I have no room to deny that it still affects me. “Are you afraid of me?” he asks, and my eyes narrow at his curious tone.

“Should I be?” I ask, fishing foranything—a speck of reassurance, a hint that holding out hope for us isn’t as completely insane as I fear it is.

“Some would think so, but I hope you aren’t.”

Emotion clogs my throat, elevating the confusion filling me with the urge to run away from this interaction. “You do?”

He dips his face, lowering his voice. “I hope that whatever has happened doesn’t change that you know, even with everything you aren’t certain about, that you will never come to harm at my hands.”

I turn my face away again, blinking to clear my vision, and bite my tongue as I will myself not to shed a tear in front of him. I don’t know how to tell him that Noah is right—he’salreadyhurt me. Because how can I do that when what he did to hurt me is also what saved my life?

It takes me a short eternity to find my voice. “I find myself questioning what I think I know too often these days.”

He chuckles as if he understands, and for a moment—a split fucking second of pure bliss—I forget it all.

He’s cooking me dinner. Kissing me for the first time. Keeping my anxiety at bay on the Seattle Great Wheel. Bringing me to new levels of pleasure and making me feel like the only person in the world.

All too quickly, those warm flashes of memories disappear, and I’m left with the cold, hard truth that we will never be those people again. We can’t be. And hell, I wish I’d known before we kissed for the last time, because it’s all I can do not to think about it right now.

My breath gets lodged in my throat as Xander lifts a hand to my face, capturing a rogue bit of hair between his fingers. I don’t breathe as he gently tucks it behind my ear, letting his touch linger at the pulse along the side of my neck.

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