Page 25 of The Demon King's Unruly Mate

We fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that felt earned rather than awkward. I closed my eyes at the press of his lips against my temple and allowed myself a small moment of peace before the next battle. Emil’s schemes, the throne, the future of our clans, all of it could wait until morning.

For tonight, I was simply Talia. And he was simply Kaz. And what lay between us was ours alone.

CHAPTER SEVEN

TALIA

Iwoke to the gentle press of lips against my skin, trailing along the back of my neck and across my shoulder. Warmth radiated from the body curled around mine, and chased away the morning chill. For a moment, I kept my eyes closed, and savored the sensation of Kaz’s mouth on my skin, his arm draped possessively over my waist, our legs tangled beneath the sheets.

This is new, I thought, fighting the smile that threatened to curve my lips. I wasn’t used to my bedmates lingering till morning, much less showering me with affection. Usually, they were gone before the first hint of dawn, dismissed with a wave of my hand and firm reiteration that discretion was paramount.

But Kaz wasn’t just another bedmate, was he? He was my mate. My husband. My future king.

“I know you’re awake,” he murmured, his breath hot against the nape of my neck. “Your breathing changed.”

My smile matched the one I felt growing against my shoulder. “And you’re still here. How unexpected.”

His chuckle vibrated through me in a pleasant rumble that settled somewhere beneath my ribs. “The day is still young. The trouble you bring might still make me flee.”

“Mmm. You say the sweetest things.” I stretched against him, my tail lazily curling around his calf. “Such a romantic.”

“Would you prefer poetry?” he teased, his hand splaying across my stomach, thumb tracing idle patterns just below my navel. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

I snorted. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”

“Shakespeare famously had a way with words.” His teeth grazed my earlobe. “Though none capture the way you taste.”

There was something oddly intimate about being wrapped in each other’s arms, naked, but facing away. I couldn’t see his expressions, couldn’t read the minute shifts in his features that might reveal his thoughts. Instead, I felt every reaction in the tension of his muscles, the catch of his breath, the heat of his skin against mine.

He trailed his fingers up my arm before finding my hand where it rested on the pillow. Our fingers twisted together, palm to palm, fitting together perfectly. As if this were right, somehow.

Fated.

His thumb traced the delicate bones of my wrist where his mark stood out against my red skin. He lingered there, circling the spot where our bond was made visible, before moving higher to the lines of my palm.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he explored each finger, each knuckle, as if memorizing them. “For leaving you after our mating. It was... cowardly.”

I squeezed his fingers, considering my response. The prideful, wounded part of me wanted to lash out, to make him suffer for abandoning me to face the court alone. But what wouldthat accomplish, beyond pushing away the fragile understanding growing between us?

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I said in the quiet. “I didn’t ask to be protected or sheltered or left to handle court on my own while you disappeared to play hero.”

“I wasn’t playing hero,” he countered, his fingers stilling against mine. “I was giving you space.”

“I never wanted space,” I huffed. “I just wanted to be seen.”

The silence stretched between us, filled only by our breathing and the distant sounds of the town coming alive outside our window. I hadn’t meant to be so honest or reveal that particular vulnerability. I blamed the damned hand holding for making me soft.

“The first attempt on my life was also the last time I was in a room with all my siblings alive and breathing,” I said, beginning to toy with his fingers. “I was seven, and my eldest brother had just reached maturity. Javed was twelve, and already showing signs of what he’d become. The poison in our lemonade killed our eldest brother and elevated Javed to heir. No one could prove it was him, of course.”

“Seven,” Kaz repeated, his fingers tightening around mine.

I nodded. “We were separated shortly after to the first of many temporary homes. My father claimed it was for our safety, but really, it was just easier to brush the incident under the rug.”

“You didn’t grow up in the palace?” Surprise colored his tone.

“Not consistently. Javed’s threats and kills drove many of the moves, though I didn’t understand that until I was older.” I dragged the tip of my tail along his calf, glad we weren’t in danger of eye contact. Just as he didn’t want pity, I couldn’t bear to see it on his face for myself. “But I learned to use it to my advantage. Each new home meant new staff, new neighbors, new potential allies. I turned those sympathetic hearts into mynetwork of eyes and ears. By the time I was sixteen, I knew more about the workings of the court than most of the ministers.”

Kaz was silent for a long moment, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. “Then... you would have no objections to living elsewhere? Away from the palace?”

---