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Melchom didn’t think it was a coincidence, the minions being there to create the perfect opening. That didn’t answer any of his questions, however. He tried to dive deeper into the thread even though he knew it was physically hurting the human. Melchom hated it. He hated even more that there was no reason for him to feel that way.

His heart missed a beat when he got to the DNA of the thread.

One of the hellhounds.

Gaz.

Melchom tried to remember anything distinctive about her, but nothing came to mind. She’d been only a pup around the time he’d been dethroned.

“Melchom?” Dove’s heartbeat ran at a rapid pace, panicked.

He wanted to take the chance and learn everything left there was to learn about the human. He didn’t do it. Instead, he pulled away and focused his sight back on Dove.

“Yes?”

“What was that?”

“I had to carve around in your head.”

“And you had to do that why?”

“Because someone got into it that wasn’t me.” Someone he’d have to chase up the caves to have a word with. “Only I get to play with you. I thought we’d established as much.”

“O-okay, I…” Dove chewed on his bottom lip, one finger distractingly twirling a lock of hair. The human had been rattled earlier, and his anxiety was only growing. “So what are you gonna do now?”

“Now I’m gonna have a talk with her.”

“Her?” Dove dared to take one step forward.

He was the perfect mix of fragility and bravado. Melchom found himself struggling, getting distracted with the pheromones in the air. “Is there a problem?”

“No. I mean, I’ve only really seen you. Am I going to meet anyone else?”

“Why would you want that?”

“Because I can’t just be your bed slave?”

That was a nice image. Melchom smirked. He knew he was doing it. He didn’t care that he should be focusing on looking into the hellhounds. There would be time for it.

“Why not? It sounds… appealing.” Melchom let a finger trail up his arm. He enjoyed the way his little Dove shivered too much.

“You’re trying to distract me.”

“Would you rather I leave you alone again?”

“No.” He swallowed. “I told you, I don’t want to be alone. I don’t deal well with it.”

“So I’m noticing.” Melchom sighed. He wished he could be as exasperated as he wanted to be. Anything that wouldn’t make him act so unlike himself—like he suddenly had feelings. “I’m afraid we don’t have a human care building.”

“You should,” Dove quipped. “I can’t be the only human pet in here, right?”

“You’re not a pet.”

Melchom couldn’t pinpoint why he wasn’t, but the word left a sour taste in his mouth. Demons talked about human pets often. It was a thing. He’d had pets of his own—back then.

But his pets hadn’t agreed to let him feed off them. They hadn’t responded to him with so much hunger for whatever Melchom would be willing to offer. They hadn’t kept him on his toes when he was unsuspecting. They hadn’t ignited a fire in him.

His Dove might be a human, one he’d only just met, but he was nothing like the others.