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“You test my patience,” he growls, voice low. “You stand defiant when you should be on your knees.”

Anger and a traitorous flush combine to spark my reply. “I’m not kneeling to you. Ever.”

A savage light flares in his eyes. “No? Then why are you trembling?”

I stiffen, realizing my hands shake despite my best efforts. Frustration wells. I want to deny it, but the dryness in my throat betrays me. “Because you won’t stop cornering me,” I snap. “If you’re trying to scare me?—”

“Am I scaring you?” he interjects softly, leaning in. His breath caresses my cheek, warm and laced with brimstone.

“It’s complicated,” I blurt, hating how my voice wavers.

A low laugh escapes him, rumbling like distant thunder. “You want to fight me, yet your body says otherwise.”

I shudder as the truth in his words lances me. “It’s just… anger,” I insist, weak even to my own ears.

One corner of his mouth quirks. “There is anger, yes. But there’s also something else.” Slowly, he dips his head, his breath ghosting over my jaw. “Something that sets my blood on fire when we clash.”

My heart clatters. Memories of every electrified moment flood me. The one in the chamber, the courtyard pin, that final parry in the training hall where we nearly…No. No, I can’t be wanting him.

But my traitorous body surges at his nearness, an uncoiling tension deep in my core. “You’re a demon,” I whisper, voice faint.

He exhales, a harsh sound. “I am. And you’re human… mostly.” His free hand finally settles on my hip, claws a whisper away from my flesh. “Yet here we stand.”

I find my spine arching of its own accord, pressing me closer to the scorching heat of him. “You can’t,” I begin, uncertain what I mean—You can’t want me,orYou can’t do this.

He cocks his head, eyes flaring. “Watch me,” he murmurs, then leans in to claim my mouth.

Everything ignites at once. My protest dies in a haze of sensation. His lips crash into mine, firm and demanding, stoking the embers of tension we’ve been dancing around. A jolt of pure fire races through my veins. I let out a muffled gasp, tangling my fists in the plating over his shoulders for balance. I taste brimstone and darkness, the essence of him—danger and raw power wrapped in a heady charge.

He growls low, pressing me back against the wall, wings flaring out behind him. The kiss deepens, a battle of tongues and teeth. I nip his lower lip out of sheer defiance, and he hisses, half-laughing against my mouth. The braziers flicker wildly, as if reflecting the chaos swirling between us.

Heat coils in my belly, laced with an undercurrent of fear. He’s a demon, lethal and unstoppable. Yet my pulse hammerswith reckless need. My nails scrape over the ridged horn near his temple, venturing close to the jagged stump of the broken one. He lets out a ragged moan, as if that area is particularly sensitive, and grips my waist tighter.

“You taste of defiance,” he rasps, breaking from the kiss to trail his mouth along my throat. Sharp fangs graze my skin, but not enough to break flesh. Sparks dance in my vision. I cling to him, refusing to appear cowed, even as my legs threaten to buckle.

He sinks his free hand into my hair, tugging my head back to expose more of my neck. “Do you hate this?” he challenges, voice raw. “Do you hate me?”

My breath catches. Yes, part of me does. But loathing tangles with white-hot desire in a way that leaves me dizzy. “I hate your arrogance,” I whisper shakily.

A harsh laugh rumbles in his chest. “That’s not the same as hating me.” He claims my mouth again, fiercer this time, stoking the embers of my rage and want.

I respond with equal fervor, hooking a leg around his waist. He groans, pressing us flush, the ridges of his chest plating rubbing against my bandaged ribs. Pain flares, but I welcome it, a reminder this is real. My mind screams that I should push him away, that I’m losing myself in a demon’s arms, but my body refuses to obey.

His claws toy with the hem of my shirt, slipping beneath to graze my flank. My skin prickles under his scorching touch. We break apart, panting. He stares down at me, eyes burning with unholy light. The half-broken horn draws my attention again, that single imperfection in an otherwise monstrous perfection.

I shift my hand from his shoulder to that horn, lightly brushing the ragged edge. He flinches, a guttural sound caught in his throat. For a heartbeat, I sense his pain—older thanmemory, deeper than any wound. My chest twinges with an unexpected sympathy.He’s not invincible.

That fleeting empathy collides with the raging lust between us, fueling a raw urgency. I rise on my toes, capturing his mouth in another devouring kiss. He responds with a low snarl of appreciation, hauling me closer until I’m half-supported by his powerful arm. My thighs clench around his hips.

We stumble backward, away from the wall, nearly knocking over the brazier. I break the kiss, gasping for air. “Bed,” I manage, not sure if it’s a demand or a question. He glances at the slab of basalt and the fur thrown haphazardly across it.

His grin is feral. “Better than the floor,” he growls, though I sense he’d have taken me there if not for the risk of drawing half the fortress to watch.

In one swift motion, he whisks me up, carrying me the short distance. My breath catches as he deposits me onto the slab. The rough surface is cold on my back. He follows, wings half-unfurled, bracing his arms on either side so his massive frame looms over me. The fortress wards flicker, casting ghostly patterns across the walls.

My pulse thunders, uncertain if I can handle the intensity of what’s about to happen. Still, my hands move of their own accord, fumbling at the fastenings of his carapace-like armor. He hisses in frustration, batting my hands aside to free himself faster. A clang echoes as pieces of plating hit the floor. Beneath, his skin is all obsidian muscle traced by molten crimson veins, each pulse a reminder of his demonic nature.

I swallow, eyes drawn to the swirl of runic scars across his pectorals and lower abdomen. Battle marks from centuries of conflict.How many foes has he killed?The thought sends a twisted thrill and a shiver of caution down my spine.