Page 8 of Demon's Bride

“My middle name,” I say again, “is Dane. Eren Dane Ashblood. I thought knowing something more about me might help.”

Allie looks at me for a long time, like she’s judging how sane I am. When she finally shakes her head a little to clear away whatever she’s thinking, and answers, I’m not sure whether my heart’s still beating.

“Eren Dane Ashblood,” she repeats, and I try to ignore the little thrill in the bottom of my stomach at hearing my name on her lips. “My middle name is Amethyst.”

“Allison Amethyst Hawthorn,” I say, letting myself linger on each decadent syllable. “A beautiful name. It suits you.”

A tremulous smile sets upon her lips at that.

“I’m twenty-six years old,” she volunteers.

“I’m eighty-seven.”

Her eyes practically bug out of her face. “That’s… old. How long do demons live?”

“We live to be anywhere between three and four hundred years. Your lifespan will adjust to match mine once we’re wed.”

“That’s… wow. I didn’t expect… I mean, I didn’t think I’d be quadrupling my lifespan out of this deal.”

Something sharp and black touches my heart. Even at a hundred, one amongst the demonkind is only just coming into their prime. I’d known these humans lived far shorter lives, but the idea that Allie would have died so young if I hadn’t been sent to claim her puts a spiral of dread into my soul.

“What else can I expect once we’re married?” she asks.

Discontent flares in me again, realizing how ill-equipped my bride is for life in my realm. Knowing it’s not her fault, I try to push my emotions aside as I answer.

“When you wed me, you’ll be consort to the king of the demon realm. You’ll—”

“Not queen?”

I chuckle at the boldness, the sass. “Would you like to be queen?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably not. I have no experience ruling over anyone other than unruly preteens.” At my look of confusion, she clarifies. “I work in a school. The kids I watch over are twelve to fourteen years old.”

“Ah,” I say, understanding. “Young ones. So you’re used to dealing with belligerence and stubbornness. You’ll do well amongst my people.”

Allie's smile widens, and my soul brightens in response.

“What’s your favorite food?” she asks me.

You are, my mind immediately supplies. I haven’t tasted her yet, but I already know it to be true.

“There’s a cobbler my mother used to make,” I say instead, “With blackberries and fresh cream on top. That’s my favorite food.”

A look of delight crosses her face. “You have blackberries in your realm?”

I nod. “There are many more similarities than you might think.”

Allie considers that for a moment. “Eren Dane Ashblood. Eighty-seven-year-old King of the demon realm and lover of blackberry cobbler.” She laughs at her own words. “Never in my life did I think this is where I’d end up.”

In that moment, I dare.

I step forward and reach one hand out to grasp her cool fingers in mine. Holding her hand lightly, I bring those fingers to my lips and press a gentle kiss against them.

“Know that this is where you were always meant to be, Allie.”

She raises her eyes to mine, and there’s something mournful there, something broken. I hardly have time to examine it before she looks away, glancing at the empty woods around us.

“So,” she says finally. “Everything will be alright?”

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