Page 43 of A Summoned Husband

“Shh,” he practically purred. “Eden.”

Panic seized me as my eyes looked around the wreckage left behind, the pain making my thoughts hard to sort through. “There’s a monster!”

“Eden.” His voice was too soothing for our current situation.

“It was just here! It was in my house and it was—”

“I know,” he interrupted. His finger pressed under my chin, pulling my attention back to him.

It was weird to look at him like this. So close without the terror that should be there, as though I’d already spent all my fear. His brows were so thick, black marks over his eyes that I was sure went down to his soul. Marking his sins. His eyes were too deep. They looked like I could fall into them as he stared at me. The bridge of his nose was flat and straight and his nostrils were wide.

“You’re safe now, Eden. Safe with me.”

His hand lightly traced up my leg before it clamped over my wounded thigh. I flinched, but not in pain. No pain accompanied his touch, only that cool winter breeze that blissfully cut through the burn. I wanted to inspect the ankle his touch abandoned, but I was trapped in his eyes.

Denial was a potent thing. Thick sludge that was impossible to swallow down. I was being held down by it, a blindfold over my eyes that refused to let me see anything with clarity. How could I? This life that had somehow become mine felt completely ridiculous. A demon was cooing at me, tending to wounds a boogeyman had made.

How could I believe anything he said to me? Nothing felt real.

“Am I?” How could I even begin to think I was safe?

“Yes.” His voice was a growl that vibrated through him. It made my eyes fall closed as it moved through me in turn.

I kept them closed, afraid to look at him. I was too vulnerable now. My fears had completely overwhelmed me and now I was shutting down. Unable to push him away like I should. Unable to fight him anymore after days of having every one of my nerves pulled taut.

“There is no demon or angel that could harm you while I am here, Eden.”

My eyes snapped open. “Angel?” My voice was too high. “Angels are real?”

“In a way.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” The complacency that settled in with my fatigue fled as I squirmed, trying to put space between us. “Is some angel going to bust in here and make me explode or something?”

“Explode?” Thick slashes that made him look domineering and treacherous dropped over his eyes, casting them in shadow as his lips pushed out. He looked truly perplexed.

“Yeah… for being married to a demon! Isn’t that like… a sin?” It had to be. I may not have picked up a Bible since high school, but I was pretty sure marrying a demon had to be soul-damning.

His chuckle was a sound too warm and enticing. “Angels don’t bother themselves with the business of demons.”

“What?” Surprise made me momentarily forget my panic. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

“Of what?” Asmodeus slowly lifted his hand from my thigh and dropped his face.

Something flinched in the core of me. Tightened. As he leaned in, his hot breath on my bare thigh, my stomach knotted and then knotted again. “Of…” What was I talking about again?

Asmodeus ran his finger lightly against my pristine flesh, inspecting the place my wound once was. Where it had gone, I had no idea. It was impossible to make sense of anything. I had been attacked by a monster and was married to a demon, everything else seemed ridiculous to fuss over.

“Of?” he pressed.

“Of,” I repeated, my saliva so thin in my mouth I had to swallow as his thumb brushed my inner thigh.

He looked at me with a question in his eyes.

“Of…” My train of thought returned when he lifted his hand from my flesh and sat back, relaxing on my couch. “Isn’t that the whole point of angels and demons? A war against good and evil?”

Lips that were entirely too plump and wide pursed as he looked at me before he slowly shook his head. “And who is good and who is evil?”

“You… demons are bad. Evil. And angels are good.” At least that was what my Gran and Abuela always told me. Not to mention the teachings in catholic school.