Page 128 of The Prince of Demons

I nodded.

“I’m not my father’s favorite. Never have been, never will be. Although I describe him as my father, all the demons of the Beyond call him such, and he views them all as his children. But I am the prince, so I have the most responsibilities. When the gumiho—my father’s pride and joy—ran away, he blamed me. He banished me from home, following an ancient prophecy’s advice, and I cannot permanently return until I retrieve her, his favored child.”

The rest of the world faded away. “So you wanted to kill the gumiho—because it would send her back home?”

“Unfortunately,” he confessed, “but I have been unable to do so.”

“I have no other family to rely on,” he went on, “and the closest I have to companions are the fools you know as Gaksi and Sam.”

“As soon as I saw your shadows, I knew they were linked to the Beyond. Which meant you were either the gumiho or something worse. Someone I would fall in love with. Someone I would have to kill to keep on my side forever. Someone who I could not have but could not resist.”

I looked at Reaper, at my mirror image. At the person who saw into my dark, twisted soul and did not run from it.

I sent my shadows out tentatively. He smiled, letting them wrap around his until we were enveloped in a swirling cocoon.

“You’ve been practicing,” he said.

“The master taught me himself,” I teased.

I closed my eyes and let the shadows flow from every pore. They flew from my skin, hair, and heart until I felt like I was glowing with their blue-black energy.

When I reopened my eyes, Reaper’s had glazed over.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

“I am not perfect,” I said, a tear slipping down my cheek.

“You are perfect for me,” he said, drawing me in close. His lips brushed mine, once, twice. On the third, he lingered, heating me from my toes to my rose-tinted cheeks.

“Do you owe me a favor?” I asked him. My breath caressed his skin.

His nose grazed my jaw. “Perhaps,” he breathed.

“What are you thinking right now?”

“That I should have led our first encounter like this. That if I weren’t so arrogant and desperate, I would have seen what a prize I have in front of me.”

Honest, vulnerable. I never thought I could be around a man like this.

He studied my face. When he saw my emotions—the longing, the desire, the overwhelming trust—he slid his tongue in for the next kiss.

Chocolate and salt. That was what he tasted like.

I swallowed his tongue, sucking enough to make him groan. He moved his hand to the small of my back, pressing him into me. He was ready, ready to go, when he pulled back.

“I need to tell you something.” Emotion swelled across his face. “I… greatly dislike how every male would die to make you blush.”

That admission had my head snapping up. His eyes gleamed like starlight.

“I detest how easily you engage in their pitiful crush.”

He pulled me into a dance, spinning me with soft joy.

Invisible bells tolled in the background.

“Everybody wants you,” he continued plainly.

My eyes burned. I knew where he was going with this.

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