Page 33

Devlin left a trail of shadows in his wake as we stepped into the cabin, wisps of darkness bleeding from his every footstep before slinking back into the underbrush and curling into the corners of the porch.

I chewed the inside of my lip, watching as he half threw himself onto the couch, the legs scraping loudly against the wooden floor. He slouched forward, jaw tight, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he stared into space.

“Devlin?” I asked softly.

His only response was a distracted hmm .

“Are you okay?”

There was a long pause. His shadows stirred around him again before finally dissipating into the dim corners of the room. But the crease between his brows remained, deep and unmoving.

When he finally spoke, his voice was careful.

“Jen... I don’t want to be overbearing. And I don’t want to pry into things you haven’t told me.

” He exhaled sharply, raking a hand down his face, as if trying to smooth away the frustration lingering there.

“But...” His amber eyes found mine. His voice dropped lower.

“I like you,” he admitted. “I really like you.” His gaze locked onto mine.

“I may not be able to stop your tears from falling over an ailing friend,” he murmured, “but I can protect you from a bad one.”

If it weren’t for the fact that a different L-word was currently circling my brain like a lovesick vulture, just waiting to slip out during an accidental word vomit, I might have told a little white lie to Devlin and said I liked him too.

But an unintentional love confession? Yeah, probably not a great idea.

Even though I had spent the last seven hours elbow-deep in refuse, watching a demon I’d only known for a handful of days standing knee-deep beside me—doing it not for himself, but simply to give Ms. Cadmus her home back for the final few days of her life—had meant the world to me.

Or the way he’d hesitated when I reminded him he hadn’t even tried to return to his own realm. The way he’d shrugged and said he wanted to stay here. With me.

Yeah. I was totally in love with Devlin.

And if I wasn’t careful, I was totally going to say it out loud.

So, instead, I latched onto the second half of his statement. “Rowan isn’t a bad friend, Devlin. He just... got a little obsessed with me when we were teens."

Devlin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I believe stalking was the term used,” he said, his voice dry.

I should probably tell him about being part succubus. If anyone would understand why Rowan’s out-of-control behavior back then wasn’t entirely his fault, it would be Devlin.

But then it would turn into a whole thing—why I hadn’t told him before, why I’d kept it from him when he’d been so open about himself. And worse, it would mean explaining that, by this time next year, if I went through with the summoning, I might be mated to an incubus who wasn’t him.

I’d have to tell him eventually. But now wasn’t the time.

I was exhausted. Muscles I didn’t even know I had ached, and all I wanted was to climb into a scalding bath and soak until my body forgave me.

“And he’s still obsessed with you, according to Brooke,” Devlin said, his voice edged with frustration.

“Rowan is a good guy, Devlin,” I said, sighing. “He’s only obsessed because he can’t believe I did something so awful. He just needs to let it go. You need to let it go.”

Devlin opened his mouth, ready to argue—but then he closed it again, exhaling through his nose. He settled back into his seat, crossing his arms, his jaw tight with whatever words he was holding back.

I let out a sigh and lowered myself onto the couch beside him, resting my head against his shoulder. Within seconds, his body softened into mine, the tension melting away.

“Thank you for worrying about me, Devlin,” I murmured.

“But as soon as I get my magic back, I’ll be leaving Headless Hollow—and Rowan—behind.

” Devlin stiffened. The muscles in his arms flexed against my temple.

“And after I go to my coven, have my trial, and, inevitably, get exiled...” I sucked in a breath, trying to keep my voice steady.

Part of me was impressed I wasn’t babbling.

The other part was terrified of what I was about to ask him.

“... I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to join me.

” It tumbled out in a rush, my heart pounding.

“I mean—only if you want to. Because—” Don’t say love.

Don’t say love. Don’t say love. “—I really like you too.”

A breath of laughter escaped Devlin. Before I could blink, his hands slid under my arms, and in one effortless movement, he lifted me onto his lap. “It’s not a proposal,” he teased, his eyes gleaming, “but I’d love to stay by your side, little witch.”

And then his lips were on mine.

It would have been the most romantic kiss imaginable if we weren’t both coated in a layer of grime, sweat, and the unmistakable tang of industrial-strength cleaning supplies.

Devlin chuckled, his mouth still pressed to mine, his lips curving into a grin.

I pulled back, rolling my eyes as I jabbed him playfully in the ribs. “Generally speaking, laughing during a kiss is frowned upon.”

His fingers traced lightly down my cheek, his gaze dark and warm all at once. “True,” he admitted. “But I was just thinking... even though you taste like a poorly cleaned fast-food shop floor, I still love kissing you.”

Gross.

And... swoon .

A fluttering of sheets caught our attention. I flicked my gaze toward BooDini, who was watching us between the spindles of the staircase, its hollow eyes wide with a dreamy, almost swooning expression.

The moment it realized we’d caught it eavesdropping, it startled, let out a flustered ripple, and promptly floated away. A second later, the sound of running water echoed from the bathroom.

Devlin pressed one last lingering kiss against my lips before murmuring, “Guess it’s time for a bath.”

Before I could react, he scooped me effortlessly into his arms in a smooth motion and cradled me against his chest. A surprised squeak left my lips before dissolving into laughter as I clung to his neck.

He carried me up the stairs like I weighed nothing, his grip firm and possessive in a way that made warmth pool low in my stomach.

The moment we entered the bathroom, I inhaled deeply, the scent of lavender wrapping around us in thick, comforting wafts.

BooDini had worked its magic—the tub had doubled in size, filled to the brim with swirling, shimmering water.

Dozens of candles flickered along every available surface, casting a soft, golden glow over the room.

Devlin set me down gently, his fingers slow and deliberate as he peeled away my soiled clothes, his gaze dark and unreadable. A small, teasing smile tugged at his lips as he let me return the favor, his muscles shifting beneath my fingertips as I undressed him piece by piece.

Once bare, he lifted me again, carrying me toward the tub with the same ease as before.

The moment I settled into the water, the heat licked at my skin, loosening every aching muscle. Devlin slipped in behind me, pulling me flush against his chest, his arms looping around my waist as the water lapped around us.

I exhaled a slow, aching breath. He was hard . The solid length of him pressed against my lower back. Need flared through me, and before I could stop myself, my fingers dipped beneath the surface, reaching for him—only for his hands to catch mine, stopping me in one smooth movement.

“Relaxing first,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Fondling second, little witch.”

I made a sound of protest—one that turned into a low, breathless moan as his fingers found my shoulders, kneading into the knots with slow, practiced precision.

Devlin seemed to revel in every moment of the bath, from lathering my hair with slow, indulgent strokes to kneading every stubborn knot from my muscles with those wickedly skilled hands.

I, however, was only granted the privilege of running a loofah over him—strictly no massages—on account of his intense ticklishness, which resulted in bouts of uncontrollable giggles every time I so much as attempted to press a finger into his taut muscles.

After what felt like hours, we drifted into an easy stillness, stretched out on opposite ends of the tub. My fingers traced lazy, absentminded circles on his exposed knee, while he dragged a knuckle along the sole of my foot, sending little shivers up my spine.

A satisfied moan slipped from my lips. This incubus had magic fingers.

As if reading my thoughts, Devlin smirked. “See? I told you—I couldn’t make you moan like that if I had limp spaghetti fingers."

Usually, attempting to be seductive would leave me a blubbering, anxious mess. But right now? I was in such a deep, blissed-out haze that I had no trouble at all cocking an eyebrow, voice low and smooth as I purred, “I’d have to experience both if I were to make a fair judgment.”

Devlin’s grin turned wicked as he shifted, pulling his legs from my side and kneeling at the other end of the bath.

He still held my leg aloft, his grip firm yet teasing as he leaned over me, trailing a slow, deliberate path of kisses along my calf.

Each press of his lips sent little sparks racing beneath my skin, my muscles tensing, anticipation curling deep in my belly.

“I’m nothing if not an accommodating demon,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.

His lips traveled higher, heat blooming wherever they touched.

Then, with a smooth motion, he hooked my leg over his shoulder, his fingertips pressing into the soft flesh of my thigh as he spread my knees apart.

My breath shuddered, my heart pounded against my ribs as his mouth claimed mine in a deep, searing kiss.

His body pressed flush against me, his length sliding through my folds, teasing with every veiny inch of him that moved against my slick heat.