Page 16 of Hellish Fae
Sunlight beams down on me. It’s early, and a chill kisses the air, but something heavy covers me with comfortable warmth. With my eyes still closed, my fingers lift and lightly trail over the smooth leather surface hovering above my skin. It stings my fingertip the moment I touch it.
Ryke’s wing.
My lashes lift slowly, and I look to my right. A foot of space separates me from the demon. He’s sleeping soundly on his side but his wing is stretched out to its fullest to cover my body.
He’s . . . sweet. Ish.
My head turns, and instead of finding Damien a small space away like his friend, I realize he’s wrapped around me like a vice. His big arm is tucked beneath his friend’s wing. My hand skims up the length of his hard muscle and the defined veins along his forearm. He shifts against me, and it feels good to be held.
A nagging little voice at the back of my mind tells me to be careful with these men. They’re demons, after all, and demons and fae don’t mix.
That’s what my father and brother told me over and over again my entire life.
Or maybe you could pull your head out of your faehole and make some friends every now and then, a different, more obnoxious cunt-like voice chirps.
Morning, Catherine.
Oh, do tell. How does it feel to wake up without a hangover? Refreshing? Delightful? Amazing?
Awful. If you must know,I answer, my fingers still trailing up and down Damien’s arm until a soft sigh slips from his full lips.
I hate how much I like lying here between them.
I don’t belong here. I belong in the center of the kingdom I grew up in. I belong around my own people.
And this morning, I’m going to go there.
With tense effort, I slide Ryke’s wing back and peel Damien’s heavy arm off my chest. With even more effort, I stumble toward the center platform, hike my leg up, crawl desperately off of the net of doom.
An exhausted breath pushes from my lungs.
Why would anyone do that every single morning? I shake my head and instead of chancing my luck and crawling across the netting again to get to the stairs, my wings spread wide and I’m soaring away in an instant.
It’s a much more dignified method of travel.
I fly over the elaborate treehouse. For a moment, it feels nice to have the wind in my hair, the sun on my face, the—
“Going somewhere, Crow?”
I dip abruptly like I’ve been shot down from midair. It takes my heartbeat and my brain a moment to realize it’s just a cocky demon.
Just a demon.
How comforting.
Ryke’s big wings are nearly the same shade of black as my own, but they move differently across the breeze. His seem to catch the wind better, and he glides more than I do. He makes it look effortless.
I swallow. For a moment, I consider lying to him, but I don’t really know why.
I have nothing to hide.
“I need to speak with the King. I’m going to the Kingdom of Roses.”
“Everything here’s all named after flowers and daisies and shit,” he grumbles.
I can’t help but smile lightly. He’s not wrong.
“Why are you going to the Kingdom? Corva says the King and the Prince are assholes. Doesn’t like demons unless they’re servants, and the King doesn’t treat his own children much better.”
