Page 48 of A Summoned Husband

Fear was supposed to entice me. Why in all that was wicked did hers taste so bitter and feel so… toxic?

“I don’t know.”

A sigh left her as she shoved up and pushed the raven curtain of her hair behind her ears. “Well… what do you think?”

My thoughts were not something I often exchanged with anyone but Arzen. I had no need to. “I think it will.”

Her nod was slow as she stood. “Awesome. Well, I stink of wine so I’m going to go shower and crawl into bed and hope all this is some very prolonged nightmare. You can just… do whatever you want. It’s not like I can banish you with my lord book so I guess I’m stuck.”

I watched her walk away, disappearing down the hall. It irritated me to know there was nothing I wanted more than to follow her and make sure the witch’s fury never set hands on her again.

17

EDEN

Irotated my neck with an aggravated huff before I grabbed my pillow from behind my head and tossed it across the room. The duvet was too stifling. The pillows too uncomfortable. I kicked my feet, dislodging the duvet, and groaned when it slid off the bottom of the bed onto the floor.

Was my bed always this uncomfortable? Or was it the demon in my house that was keeping me awake? My shower had been equally unenjoyable. I scrubbed every inch of myself raw before I realized. My mind was too busy with the loud thoughts that wouldn’t shut the hell up. Thoughts that were still so freaking loud.

My fingers angrily sought the edge of my sheets before I untucked them from my bed and wrapped them around myself. Maybe if I could cocoon myself just right, I could cut off enough oxygen and smother myself to sleep.

Falling back on the bed, I groaned. The hole I left myself was barely large enough for my mouth as I rolled.

This is why Abuela didn’t like it when I drank. Because when I drank, I made poor decisions. Sure, this was kind of unforeseeable, but if I hadn’t drunk so much wine I would have had the sense to remember I didn’t mess around with all that shit and I wouldn’t be awake right now because I wouldn’t have a demon husband.

I rolled again.

My heart lurched as my feet went up over my head. My arms were tangled in the sheets, holding me captive so I couldn’t protect myself when I landed hard on my shoulder.

“Son of a bitch!”

Pain shot through me.

“Eden, you stupid bitch,” I groaned. My legs kicked out as I tried to unwrap myself from my smother plan… yet another poor decision that was biting me in the ass. Cold air touched my left foot as I finally freed it. I kicked my bed frame and squirmed. My head wiggled out of the sheets and I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Eden!” Asmodeus burst into my room, the doorknob slamming so hard against the wall that plaster rained down. He didn’t notice as he crossed the room and scooped me up.

“Hey! What are you doing?” I kicked, still trying to find my way out of the inescapable cocoon I created. What the hell were these sheets made of? Kevlar?

The sound of fabric tearing filled my ears and I was quickly freed. Asmodeus brushed his hands over my face, clearing it of my hair as he looked me over. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I was just…” Being an idiot.

“Who trapped you?”

Embarrassment made me shove at his chest, but he held onto me and sat on the edge of my bed.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.” His hands moved over my arms forcing a wince from me when he touched my shoulder. “Yes… a bit.”

Asmodeus’ dark eyes narrowed as he wrapped his hand gently around my shoulder. The familiar warmth that pressed against my face when I was carried from the closet poured into my flesh again.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s likely just a bruise.”

“Your pain ails me.” His brow knit with concentration.

Asmodeus had this way of speaking that constantly reminded me he wasn’t a person — at least not one from Toronto. Or at least not anyone who usually ran in our circles. It was like watching an old movie. His words had prose. Poetic without reason.