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“It must be hard to look at me and not find her. To search for recognition and find confusion.”

“Yes, but what is more difficult is knowing you still care about him but look at me like that.” He held her tighter. “Hold on.”

Chapter42

LAYALA

The world went dark before Layala’s feet hit the floor in Presco’s apartment, but everything around her didn’t tilt and spin as much as previous times. Hel released her and took a seat on the couch. The tension still lingered from the moment they had, but she plopped down on the huge bed and tugged off her high-heeled shoes. She wasn’t used to the style and her toes throbbed from the squeeze and the extra weight pushed to the ball of her foot. It wasn’t until the fabric tangled around her legs when she attempted to climb under the blanket that she knew she couldn’t sleep in this dress.

“Hel, I need my bag so I can change.”

From the time she’d looked down to take off her shoes and lifted her head, he’d already changed into his loose sleeping pants and remained bare up top.Why does he insist on being shirtless?It was difficult to keep her gaze averted and not ogle.

Without a word, the bag appeared next to her on the bed, and she rifled through pulling out her blue long-sleeved cotton top and matching pants. They were the only sleepwear she brought, and she suddenly wished she had something more appealing.

“I’m going to change in the bath chamber, don’t lock me out.”

He leaned back and kicked one leg over the arm of it. He was tall, and the two seats were hardly enough room for him. “Promise,” he said with a wink.

In the bath chamber, she stared at her reflection in the mirror above the gold sink. Her heart raced and she felt short of breath, and she couldn’t even say why. Running a brush through her hair, she smoothed down the stray pieces and caught a whiff of her body odor, faint but there. She quickly doused a cloth with the rosewater in a bottle off the shelf and wiped her body down.

Using a scented lip balm, she brushed her finger over her lips and scrubbed her teeth.Why are you worrying about your appearance, Laya?she berated herself. Because she was. She had her typical nightly routine but tonight she spent extra time making sure her hair looked nice and her breath and body smelled pleasant.

With her palms pressed against the white countertop, she leaned heavily on it and took in a few deep breaths. “You can convince him to sleep on the couch. It’s not a big ordeal,” she murmured to her reflection. “And even if he doesn’t, you’ve slept in the same bed before. It meant nothing.” With her night clothes on, she tugged her long hair through a satin tie, and took one last deep breath.

Buzzing with anxiousness, the floorboards creaked under her feet. Presco waved to her from the couch in the living area and she waved back, cheeks flushing. Would he think they were going to do anything? Because they wouldn’t. She didn’t know why she felt the sudden urge to go tell Presco that nothing was going on between her and her… husband.

Shaking her head at herself, she stepped back into the guest room and gently shut the door, latching it shut. Staring up at the ceiling, Hel lay on the loveseat with his legs hanging over one end, his arms tucked close, and hands over his abdomen. He looked incredibly cramped and uncomfortable.

“Are you sleeping there then?” she asked, fidgeting with the hem of her top, in the middle of the small room.

“Yes.”

“Alright.” She climbed under the silk covers and tugged them up to her chest. The soft feather pillows behind her head offered perfect support, and she could stretch out fully and still not touch any end of the bed.

At night the street below was quiet. Only the occasional groan of the house or the hooves clopping on stone with the creak of wheels interrupted the silence.

“You smell nice.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Thanks,” she whispered, wanting to smack herself in the head for bothering with the perfume water. A few beats passed. “The bed is big enough for the both of us, as you said.”

The sofa squeaked as he shifted. “It’s fine. I don’t want it to be awkward.”

Layala sat up. “This, right now, is awkward. That couch is much too small for you, you look ridiculous and I’m giving you permission to sleep next to me. Just don’t get any ideas that it means anything more than it is.”

“If you insist.” He chuckled, and the bed shifted as he climbed up and over her. Without getting under the blankets, he laid out on his backside and then turned away to face the wall. They sat in silence for a few moments until he said, “The scars are from one of the three demon princes. His name is Servante, the oldest and most powerful of the three. Not the one who is chasing us. That’s Morv. I went to the underrealm thinking it was possible the reason my mother left me as a newborn was because she was ashamed of who my father is. There has always been something dark about me, and I thought maybe he was one ofthem.”

Layala stopped breathing for a moment. Hel—half god, half demon? But it couldn’t be, could it? It was difficult to imagine a beautiful goddess and that hideous creature together. It hit her that they’d had this conversation before, a very long time ago. “But he isn’t, is he?”

“I don’t know. I thought it could only possibly be Servante because he was the only prince allowed to leave the underrealm during the time of my conception. There had been a meeting.”

“Did you fight with him?”

“He called me a fool for entering his domain. One of his hounds bit me. As you know, their venom is toxic and it made me hallucinate, made me weak. He took advantage and threw me in a cage for weeks—months, I don’t know. Then one day he came into the darkness, grabbed me by the face and cut me across the chin and through my brow so that every time anyone looked at me they’d know someone had gotten the best of me. And every time I looked in the mirror, I would know that the only reason I was alive is because he allowed it. Then he let me go. And through every life, it has remained.”

“But you were a god. He couldn’t have killed you.”

“He could have kept me there with steady poison, trapped with the damned dead in the underrealm. It wouldn’t have been living.”