Page 74 of Demon's Bane

He rolls out of bed and pulls on the pair of pants he discarded last night before striding out into the living space, closing the door behind him. A murmured conversation follows, and he comes back a couple minutes later with a large, fabric-wrapped bundle in his arms.

Shaking his head ruefully, he sets it down on the end of the bed.

“As always, my sister knows no boundaries. Take your time choosing what you’d like to wear. There’s also food waiting, if you’re hungry.”

I grin, sitting up in bed and reaching for the bundle. “She brought breakfast, too?”

“Yes. And apparently my mother is also on her way, but I can tell them we’d rather not have company if—”

“No,” I say quickly. “It’s fine. We can have breakfast with your family.”

Rhett looks like he might say something more, but must think better of it as he nods, grabs a shirt from the wardrobe, and heads into the bathroom. Water splashes faintly on the other side of the door, and I crawl out from under the covers with my muscles aching in the very best way.

I’m just opening up the bundle when Rhett reappears, pausing in the bathroom doorway to drink me in.

Goddess, how am I supposed to stand it?

How am I supposed tofunctionwhen he’s looking at me like that—fires kindled in his crimson eyes, wings flared behind him, body tense and waiting like at any moment he might—

“Little mate,” Rhett grates out. “If you don’t stop looking at me like—”

“Sorry,” I breathe, face flushing. “I didn’t mean to—”

He reaches me in two quick strides, slinging an arm around my back and dragging me up against him. His lips land on mine in a quick, scorching kiss, broken with a groan as he makes himself pull away. He rests his forehead against mine, eyes closed, chest heaving with the force of whatever he’s trying to hold himself back from doing.

And he’s not the only one. I take just as long to get a handle on myself, to feel anything resembling sanity as he pulls away.

Turning his back to me, he snakes a not-so-subtle hand beneath his waistband and adjusts himself. He lets out a long breath and heads for the door with a quick, teasing backward glance.

“You just might be the death of me, Joan.”

Though I don’t relish the thought of him keeling over, the way he says it makes a smile tug at the edges of my lips. Warm, satisfied, oh-so-deliciously powerful to know how much I affect this demon.

Rhett closes the door behind him, and I turn my attention back to the clothes Halla brought.

The outfit I wore yesterday is on top, freshly laundered, but I set the jeans and tee aside and look through the rest of it. There’s a knee-length dress made of a lightweight woven fabric similar to the shirts Rhett wears. Beneath that, a pair of the softest pants I’ve ever felt and a sleeveless tunic top in the same fabric as the dress.

I lay them out on the bed beside my things, and my smile gets even wider as I choose the soft tan trousers, which are cut more like leggings, and the tunic.

Hell, if I’m going to go traipsing around the demon realm, I might as well look like some kind of character out of a fantasy novel while I’m doing it.

When I pull them on, they’re almost exactly my size, and I mentally applaud Halla for being able to find something so perfect on such short notice. After a quick trip to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and comb my hair into something that looks half-way presentable, I pause for one last moment in the bedroom before stepping out to join Rhett and his family.

A wave of worry tumbles through me.

Even though both Alva and Halla were kind to me yesterday, I’m still a little nervous about facing them again.

Me being here isn’t exactly convenient. Their son and brother bringing a Crescent witch back to their village right in the middle of all this must be sending a whole lot of unwanted questions and suspicion their way. Even though I know it’s not my fault, guilt settles sourly in the bottom of my stomach.

But there’s no use being a coward about it, and they obviously love Rhett enough to extend their trust to me, so with a deep breath, I crack the door open.

Stepping out of the bedroom, three demon heads swivel my way.

Both Halla and Alva offer welcoming smiles, but Rhett’s gaze is deeper, darker as it sweeps over me, taking in my new demon attire.

“Uh, hi,” I say awkwardly, clearing my throat and tearing my eyes away from Rhett’s before I get any more distracted.

“Joan,” Alva says warmly. “Please, sit. We hope we’re not imposing.”