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Melchom gasped. Nightmares weren’t something that happened to him. He’d never known of a demon suffering from them.

His heart racing, he glanced to his left. His Dove was there. It was the middle of the night, and the human was a heavy sleeper. Melchom forced himself to watch him. He looked so sweet when he slept, so vulnerable curled up into him. Melchom breathed him in. Sleep didn’t claim him easily, but he didn’t think it quite mattered. His gift was safe

He’d remain safe. He had to.

CHAPTER 19

DOVE

“What’s wrong?”

Dove woke up disoriented. That was, sadly, one thing his big bad demon couldn’t help him with if he woke up first, or when the demon wasn’t nearby.

This time, though, he was right here. Dove had felt him hit his arm, which had woken him up.

Melchom’s eyes were clenched shut, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. For a second, Dove thought to check his temperature, but then he remembered the demon always ran hot. He looked strangely sick, but… Dove didn’t even know demons could get sick. He also doubted he could get answers anywhere. Even if he’d still kept the books Melchom had given him what felt like an eternity ago, he’d bet one of his demon’s crowns that there would be nothing about it.

Gaz climbed onto the mattress. Melchom didn’t like to have her on their bed, but Dove didn’t mind. He appreciated the extra weight—and comfort.

It spoke volumes that the dip in the mattress didn’t wake Melchom up.

Dove shuddered. What if he was really sick? There was no one he could trust to ask for help here. He was alone outside of the… creatures in these chambers.

Why not fed? Gaz whined after nuzzling him for a while.

Dove frowned. “Not fed?”

Sometimes the hellhound wasn’t the most articulate, and he needed to double-check. Not this time, though.

That didn’t make sense, though, right?

Why wouldn’t Melchom be feeding? It clicked slowly—Dove couldn’t remember one instance of feeling actual fear since he’d come back to his body. That didn’t answer why, though. They’d made a deal. He thought Melchom knew he was into it.

Gaz drove him out of what would easily become thinking in circles for hours.

“Good girl,” he muttered, burying his hands into her admittedly short fur.

She let him hug her like that for longer than usual.

After that, he forced himself to act determined and wake Melchom. He’d refrain from calling him an idiot for now, but he wouldn’t refrain from pouncing on him and straddling his abs. It was kind of a workout. He definitely didn’t need yoga when he practiced his flexibility every time he wanted to wrap himself around his… lover?

Were they lovers?

Dove hummed in question. He wouldn’t be derailed, though. Answers awaited.

Melchom roused slowly—way too slow for the demon to try and pretend he was okay.

“I know you’re not feeding.” Subtle, Dove was not. “Feed.”

“What?” Melchom frowned, his eyes darting down his body before they flickered.

“Why are you not feeding? We had a deal, and now you’re getting sick, and you can’t get sick.”

“I’m not getting sick.” Melchom sighed. “And I’m not feeding from you.”

“Why? Make it make sense.”

After a few seconds of silence that were becoming more and more tense, Melchom spoke, darkness clouding the usual heated glance he pinned him with. “I told you. I’d rather lose my crown again than hurt you.”