Page 87

Story: Dark Harmony

He kisses my lips. “Until darkness dies.”

Chapter 22

The next morning, when I wake, I open my eyes and see a shock of white blond hair. Des’s head rests just above my breast, his features softened by sleep. His arms are wrapped around my waist, one of his legs thrown heavily over mine.

I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. Des is here with me, seducing me in my home. My left hand is buried in his hair, and now I remove it to stare at my ring for the five thousandth time.

Millions of people go through this—falling in love, getting married, yadda, yadda yadda—and yet I can’t possibly imagine anyone else being as happy as I am in this moment, as in love as I am right now.

My hand drops back to Des’s white hair, and I pretend for a moment that the two of us have simple lives. That I’m just a human, and he is just my fiancé. That he has no realm to rule and that I don’t have wings and scales and a fae stalker that wants my head. That we aren’t embroiled in an Otherworld battle that might destroy everything that fairies hold dear.

I pretend for a few minutes that we’re just two long lost lovers reunited at last. That later today we’ll hold hands and stroll to the coffee shop down the street.

I hear Des’s deep rumble. His face rubs against me, his arms tightening around my waist. He tilts his head up, those luminous eyes finding mine.

A slow, easy smile stretches across his face. There’s nothing but love in his expression, though even that look on Des is a bit devious.

He brushes a kiss against my sternum. “You know, Callie, I’ve never been partial to daylight, but I definitely think I could get used to this.” His hand slips down and begins to pet my thigh. “Tell me, how do you feel about … sleeping in?”

The gleam in his eyes is hint enough. We’ll be sleeping in sans thesleepingpart.

“I think that sounds amazing.”

The two ofus don’t slide out of bed until hours later, caught up in each other. I’m pretty sure heaven consists of endless days like this one.

Only reluctantly do I drag myself out of bed, and only then because Des promised to make us breakfast.

I watch him now, my shirtless Des moving about my kitchen like this is his house and not mine. (I’m pretty surehefeels the place is now his.) I try not to smile as he pulls ingredients out of thin air.

Eggs dance in midair, and bell peppers chop themselves. All the while, Des whistles away, his hair tied back.

My eyes move lower, taking in his muscled body and his sleeve of tattoos. The Bargainer is a thing of beauty. A deadly, wily thing, but a beautiful one nonetheless.

It’s as I’m relishing the sight of him that I notice the claw marks scouring his back.

I hiss in a breath. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, my claws came out to play earlier.

Des turns around, instantly alarmed. “What is it?”

I nod to his back. “I hurt you.”

He casts a glance over his shoulder. I know he can’t see the markings, but he must recall them because he smirks.

“If you’re feeling truly terrible about it, Callie, I’m sure we could work out a way for you to repay—”

“Des!” That’s what I get for being thoughtful.

He laughs, then turns back to my stove, where he’s cooking up an omelet. I realize then that he could’ve simply healed himself. But much like Malaki with Temper’s hickey, he hadn’t.

Never going to understand fairies.

The Bargainer flicks his spatula-wielding hand, and a mug of coffee prepares itself. Once it’s finished, it floats across the kitchen to where I sit.

“For you, my love,” he says, not bothering to turn around.

I catch the mug out of the air. “You’re the best,” I say, taking a grateful sip.

“Was there ever any doubt?” He glances over his shoulder and winks at me.

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