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“They attacked you.” She grabbed his chin, tilting his face to examine a scratch down his cheek. “They hurt you,” she growled. “They aren’t allowed to hurt you. You’re mine.” His head turned back to her. In an instant, his eyes went from stormy gray to pitch black. “What did you say?” “You’re mine.” The words came out layered with challenge, daring him to deny it, her shaded calm somehow mixing with anger and possessive fury. Then she grabbed his head, fingers hooked in his horns, and kissed him. Her kiss was harsh, fierce, demanding. Aggressive.
“We incubi might claim to understand them,” he grumbled to Ash, “but no male can actually comprehend how a woman’s mind works.” “It’s safer to not even try.”
“Love is not a power to be scoffed at, child. It can carry you when you have nothing left. You have inherited your great capacity for love from your grandfather, and today is not the first day it has given you the strength to fight onward, I’m sure.”
Love was both a great strength and a great weakness. She would try to remember that.
She would put on a brave face until she was gone from the Overworld. Then she would decide how much fight she actually had left in her broken heart and burnt soul.
Loss can be like chains holding you in place or a fire pushing you onward. We each choose every
day what it will be to us.”
“Our paths might be different, but does that mean they can never intersect again?”
“That won’t be today or
tomorrow. It won’t be this season or the next. I’m yours for as long as you want me, and no amount of time or distance will change that.”
“What constitutes ‘working’? Is there a checklist I don’t know about?” He drew her closer. “We make our own rules, Piper. Whatever makes us happy. Whatever makes you happy.”
She knew only the wonder of flight in his arms, a freedom more beautiful than anything to be found or seen in any of the worlds.
