Page 36 of The River of Fire

I scoff. “So you want to apologize because I’m upset, and not because of what you said? Typical man.” I lift my palms up mockingly. “I’m sorry you saw me banging your sister, honey.”

He huffs impatiently, uncrosses his arms, and leans his elbows on his thighs. “I do not believe I have ever apologized for anything to anyone other than the Dark Prince,” he says with a bitter twist to his lips. “And there an ‘I apologize’ encompasses any transgressions made and all those one has yet to make.”

I look at him until he turns his head in my direction, an imperious eyebrow raised in question.

I give him an evil grin. “I’m waiting.”

“For what?” His expression is wary. It’s a novel feeling to have someone who can go all ‘Sodom and Gomorrah’ on a city appraise you with caution.

“For the apology, of course,” I say silkily. “I haven’t heard the words yet.”

He takes a deep breath, his lips twitching, and is that a hint of respect in those glowing amber eyes? “I do apologize, lamb.” He keeps his eyes locked on mine. Unused to apologizing he may be, but he is certainly not a coward. Though it would have been better if he dropped the demeaning pet name.

“Alright,” I concede. I straighten and he mimics my movement. I’d love to ask him if what he said wasn’t the truth then, but I don’t want to pour salt in the wounds. While an apology may start the healing process, an injury takes consistency to close. And still, it scars over.

“I saw a furry imp earlier.” I change the topic. There’s only so much emotional vulnerability I’m willing to show, and I’m not yet ready to argue over Kevin’s wellbeing again. “I didn’t knowthey come in a baby format.”

He clicks his tongue in dismissal. “His kind breed like any mammal-adjacent creature. And the younglings require centuries to mature,” he clarifies. “The one you saw is older than you.”

Huh. I didn’t expect to see anything that’s not a warrior, servant, or courtier here. But I guess a palace this massive would house quite a few demons. Still, I ask, “Where are its parents?”

“Dead.” He offers nothing further and stretches his long legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. I’m so easily distracted by him. Judging by the self-satisfied smirk on that angelic visage, he caught me ogling him again.

“It’s an orphan?” I try to bring the focus back on the topic of the imp and not my inability to keep my eyes off him, no matter his behavior. It’s a miracle he came to offer an apology knowing how weak I am when it comes to fighting my attraction towards him.

“He,” he emphasizes, “is an aggravating pest. And his name is Puck.”

“Puck,” I repeat and smile. That’s adorable. But hang on a moment. “I don’t see you tolerating a creature of no use who is a cause for annoyance.”

He harrumphs. “He will be both utterly useless and a bothersome vexation for centuries yet.”

That’s not what I meant. I narrow my eyes at him. Why hasn’t he simply crushed the baby imp under the heel of his steel-booted foot? “I’m surprised that the demons living here haven’t eaten him then, if he’s so annoying.” I hide my smile and caress the smooth surface of the leather cushion between us.

Looking up when there’s no retort, I can see him staring at the movement of my hand. I stop and he clears his throat. “My domain is the nucleus for pride and promiscuity and my subjects glut on that. So long as I am here, they will not devolve.”

“I see,” I say thoughtfully. That’s what happened in Asmodeus’ court.

“Your friend,” he begins, tone cautious. He’s diverting myattention, but clearly unwillingly, judging by the way he forced the words out. Obviously, I’m not the only one not wanting to argue about it again. But why bring it up then? Fear washes over me faster than icy water from a bucket challenge. I jump up.

“Did something happen to Kevin?”

Ashtaroth shakes his head. “I offered to free him, but he refuses to leave without you.” I guess that’s to be expected. Though I’m surprised he offered to let him go after wanting to stick him into a dungeon.

“Is he okay?” I’m still standing in front of his lounging form and though I’m looking slightly down at him, he’s the one exuding authority and dominance.

He hesitates and then says, “He was getting a… sponge bath from Sariel and Armaros when I entered the room.” I can’t help it – I snort in a very unattractive way. The sound seems to encourage him to continue though, as he says, “He was tied naked to the posts of Sariel’s bed and seemed utterly terrified that I may have come to join the, ah, festivities.” I burst into laughter, picturing Kev’s shell-shocked face as the much larger archdemon stood near his exposed body. “As I spoke with him he… stood to attention,” Ashtaroth adds, eyeing me with a mischievous smile, and tears of mirth start leaking out of my eyes. “You’re not upset?” He stands up and observes me with some caution as if I’ll start another fight over the matter.

“No,” I say through my laughter. “He deserves it a bit for coming after me without a plan and putting himself in danger.” I shake, picturing Kevin’s embarrassment over getting an erection just from the presence of amalearchdemon. “They won’t rape him, right?” I sober up. He steps closer and lifts his hands to my face, brushing off my tears with his thumbs. My breath hitches in my chest and my mouth opens at the unexpected sensation of his calluses against the apples of my cheeks.

“No,” he murmurs and takes a step back. “My niece Naamah charged into the room, proclaimed she had ‘dibs’ on the human, and absconded with him. While his sexuality is no longer in danger, I have seen her use her tail in ways that will probablyalarm the boy. At first.” I just nod, shell-shocked at how these demons play ‘pass the ball’ with living beings they deem beneath them.

I blink and my thoughts wander again, catching on the way he said the word dibs. I should have had my attention span checked out while I was still living in the human lands. “You speak in a very outdated way and rarely use contractions. I don’t think I’ve heard you use any modern slang unless it’s a quote.”

He purses his lips and scratches at the stubble that’s shadowing his chin. I wonder if he shaves or just wills it away. “All Celestials are created with an innate capability to understand and speak every language. I guess I don’t see the point in colloquialism.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting to see my reaction. While he did sound less stuffy with the last sentence, he ruined it by using ‘colloquialism’. Still, I give him an encouraging smile. I won’t delve too deep into my motivations for wanting him to feel like his effort is appreciated. I’m probably just dicknotized. Though I still haven’t really seen it. I automatically look down at his leather-covered crotch and he growls quietly.

“You must eat; you only had a bit of soup over the course of two days and I prefer you conscious. Though taking your soft and utterly pliant unconscious body would also please me greatly.”

I open my mouth in affront, ready to yell with the speed and volume of a marketplace hawker, when he suddenly lifts me and cradles me to his body, holding me against him like he did after the dining room live porno show. “I can walk!” I squawk indignantly.

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