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Story: A Strange Hymn

The same father who had something to do with his mother’s death.

Yikes.

I reassess Des’s wings. I hadn’t realized they might represent something terrible about his past—the same way mine did. It’s odd to look at his wings and see something very different than what he must.

I ask softly, “What do you think: Are you descended from demons or dragons?”

“Knowing my father? Demons.”

My throat works. I really,reallywant to ask him about his father, but I can’t bring myself to form the words. There’s clearly an ocean of bitterness and anger buried beneath that relationship.

“Well,” I say, running a hand over the fine bones of the wing closest to me, “whatever their origin, I think they’re perfect.”

Beneath my touch, a tremor runs through Des’s body.

“That doesn’t scare you?” he asks. “That I might have a little demon blood running through me?”

I shrug. “You met me the day I killed my stepfather.” I finger one of his talons. “And I’ve seen you execute men. I think we’re past that.”

At my words, Des’s eyes deepen. He pulls me in close, one of his wings covering me like a blanket. He kisses the tip of my nose, then rests his chin against the crown of my head.

“Thank you, cherub,” he says softly.

I’m not sure what he’s thanking me for, but I nod against him anyway, stroking his face. Eventually, my eyes drift closed, my body warmed by Des’s.

And that is how we spend our first night on Lephys. Not in the palatial home beyond the pool, but in this humble cave, our naked bodies tangled.

Chapter 14

When Des and I finally return to the city of Somnia, something about me is noticeably different.

I no longer hate my wings…or my scales or claws. Somehow, during my trip through the Night Kingdom, I found the very things that frightened me about myself now…empowerme.

I can fly. I can slice my enemies with my bare hands.

There’s strength in that, whether Karnon intended it or not.

My training with Des has also bolstered my courage. I swear my arms and legs are more defined, and even though I haven’t been able to land a blow on Des yet, I’m fighting with more confidence.

I won’t admit this to Des, but I’m glad he forced me to train with him. I might hate the process, but I kind of dig the results. I’m also coming to love the sweet pair of blades strapped to my hips. They clink against my clothing now as Des and I walk down the familiar hallways of his palace.

The tower room Des leads me to is one of the coolest places in the palace. Made of floor-to-ceiling glass windowpanes, the tower room gives me a bird’s-eye view of Somnia, from the castle grounds to the city spread out beyond it.

Aside from the lanterns hanging overhead, the only piece of furniture in the room is a massive table currently set for two. Spread out on it is what looks and smells suspiciously like Indian food, my favorite.

Des swaggers over to the table, wearing the same dark pants and shit-kicking boots that he regularly did back on earth, his hair tied back with a leather cord.

The only fae additions to his attire are the three bronze war cuffs that ring one bicep, and that pretty much just adds to his sex appeal at this point. I stare at the thick bands of muscle and the inked skin of his arms as he pulls out a chair for me.

I slide into the seat he offers, watching him take his own.

Before I can even begin to serve myself, he does it for me. A plate ofaloo gobiand another of rice lift into the air and meander over to me. While I begin to scoop out a helping, a teapot moves to the mug in front of my plate, and it pours me a cup of chai.

“How did you even get your hands on this stuff?” I ask as I finish serving myself.

Des leans back in his seat, looking all too proud of himself. “There are perks to being a king.”

He spends a good five minutes watching me eat before he joins me. I know the man likes good Indian food himself—he’s the one who introduced me to the cuisine—but he seems more interested in my enjoyment than his own.