Page 97 of Wicked Flavors

“It is not,” Ambrosius replied from behind her.

The demon—who must have been the most stubborn demon on the planet—had insisted on coming with her. Which seemed counterproductive, in Gwen’s humble opinion, given that he was literally dying. But the more time they spent arguing, the more likely it was that the cult was going to kill Ambrosius.

“Yes, it is,” Gwen whispered. “You should be conserving yourenergy.”

“Gwen, we talked—”

“I know we did, but—”

“Trust yourself and trustme.”

Gwen whirled on her heel. “I do trust you! I trust us! It’sthemI don’t trust.”

“Which is why I’m staying near, but I won’t go in,” Ambrosius sighed.

He looked awful, despite his best efforts to show her otherwise. Gwen could see it in the way he leaned his bad hip against the wall. There was barely concealed pain in his features, and the grip on his cane was so tight, Gwen was surprised the handle hadn’t cracked under the pressure yet.

“If things go well, you won’t have to,” Gwen replied. “Besides, I’ll feel better knowing you’re out here and not in there.”

“I wish I could say the same,” he said. “Remember, their belief in me will make them highly emotional and unpredictable. There’s a chance your power to feed on those emotions won’t work, since it’s not an organic response.”

“I get it.” Gwen nodded. “I’ll just have to trust the goodies you gave me.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah. I think it’s now or never.”

There hadn’t been time to change outside of redressing Ambrosius, but Gwen wasn’t worried about it. She had already ruined the dress Ambrosius bought her with all her black tears. Besides, Gwen was going for a very particular look when it came to crashing a cult ritual. One she was hoping would work for her benefit.

But if it didn’t…

“Hey, Ro?”

“Yes, my bittersweet?”

Gwen pressed back into her heels, steeling herself. There really was no easy way to say what she wanted, so maybe it was better to just spit it out.

“If things go tits up, and they succeed, and you become something else…” Gwen took a deep breath, reaching for his hand. “I want you to eat my body.”

Tired eyes stared back at her in confusion. She supposed it was better than flat out rejection.

“I want to spend forever with you … so, if I die, I want you to eat all of me. That way a part of me can be with you, even if I’m not there … okay?”

Gwen wasn’t sure what kind of afterlife existed for monsters, but she knew she’d rather spend it with Ambrosius in some way than without him. If nothing else, the thought of her becoming a part of him was comforting.

Morbid as fuck, but comforting.

Though weak, Ambrosius still found the strength to pull Gwen into a kiss. It wasn’t hard or hot like their other kisses, but Gwen’s heart shuddered between them. She still held on tightly with the knowledge that this could be the last time she’d be able to kiss him as he was. After all, there was no guarantee that even if Gwen stopped the cult, that the damage would reverse. Ambrosius could be an entirely new being if Gwen survived.

When they broke apart, Gwen held onto his face for a moment longer. If he was going to change, she wanted to remember him exactly as he was.

“You gorgeous girl,” Ambrosius rumbled. “I’ll eat you. I’ll eatallof you and it still wouldn’t be enough. There will never be a meal more delicious than you, never be a meal I would mourn being over more than you.”

It wasn’t a love confession in the human sense, but Gwen wasn’t sure if Ambrosius was capable of giving one. She didn’t know what love looked like for monsters—especially ones as old as he was—but she liked to think this declaration could be it.

For Gwen, it was enough.

Slowly, she pulled away from him, until only their hands touched. Gwen could see the way Ambrosius swayed toward her. The time to act was now.

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