Page 47 of Princess of Bael

Regardless…“Casting blame and punishing ourselves won’t fix this, Kayla.” I lifted my palm to her cheek, my need to touch her an instinct I couldn’t ignore. “We have a long fight ahead, little heiress. We need our strength. So you need to eat.”

The last meal we’d shared had been that green tea shake. While we could accomplish a lot with very little sustenance, it would help our brainpower to remain at full strength.

Besides, we’d also exhausted some energy on those damn Orsini Devils.

“Finish your page,” I told her, my palm still on her cheek. “I’ll go find us some food. Then I expect you to eat.”

She blinked at me, her irises holding a note of distrust. “Why?” she whispered. “Will it help you somehow? Make me strong enough for you to borrow energy from?”

I flinched, her question a direct strike to my conscience. She was already anticipating me using her, which I suspected had nothing to do with Mietek’s commentary and everything to do with the life she’d lived.

Because of me.

“I can only absorb the strength that you willingly give,” I told her.

It wasn’t necessarily true.

I could bite her, indulge in her blood, reaffirm our bond, and replenish my low reserves as a result. But I refused to force her.

I wouldn’t trick her again, either.

“But I will admit I need to eat more frequently because of my lack of energy,” I continued, my palm slipping from her face.

My skin tingled with the residual connection, my soul starved for more. However, I meant it—I wouldn’t force her. She’d been used enough in this life. Perhaps with better intentions in mind, but they’d led to…this.

And that had me questioning whether any of it had been worth the fragments of pain lingering in her gaze now.

“You rejuvenate me a little just by being here, too,” I informed her softly, feeling the need to speak the truth. “It’s not enough to provide any true strength, but it makes breathing a little easier.”

Clearing my throat, I stood again.

“Finish what you’re doing, Kayla. I’ll be back with food.” Whether she ate it would be another topic entirely, but I’d do my best to tempt her.

I used my wings to gently hoist myself into the air, careful not to exert too much force, as I didn’t want the wind to send her pages scattering across the floor. Her eyes followed me up, her brow furrowing as I left through the window.

That look of distrust haunted my thoughts as I flew to the patio nearest the kitchen doors. My hand was on the handle when I felt Bael’s approach behind me.

Sighing, I faced him and noted the leathery fabric of his wings. I arched a brow, curious about the physical change. The last time I’d seen him in full demon form, he’d had feathers at his back, not these bat-like wings.

“It’s part of the recent shift in Hell,” Bael explained, clearly reading the question in my eyes. “I’m surprised Kay didn’t tell you.”

“She’s been a little preoccupied with the notion of killing me.”Just as she’s now busy blaming herself for an eon of our rivalry, I thought darkly but didn’t voice it out loud. Bael and I had a history. There was no point in stating the obvious.

“Indeed. Like father, like daughter,” he murmured.

Rather than reply to that little comment, I returned to the door and pushed inside, determined to feed saiddaughter.

The invisible itch against my senses grew as Bael followed me into the kitchen, his demonic presence an unwelcome shift in my heavenly atmosphere. However, it was a sensation I would have to become accustomed to, as it would be a permanent existence if the veil fell.

I wandered over to the refrigerator closest to me to pull out a few sandwich items. This was theAmericasarea of my multitude of kitchens, showcasing a variety of foods from the two continents. But a standard turkey sub sounded good right now. It would be easy for Kayla to eat as well.

Bael leaned against the counter beside me as I took a few items out of the pantry to create a meal with our sub. The Archdemon immediately stole the platter of cookies, taking one for himself before setting it down again.

Rather than comment, I added three of the same kind to Kayla’s plate—assuming that if Bael enjoyed that brand, then Kayla likely would as well—and snagged a few bags of chips to pair with her sandwich.

Junk food should at least tempt her a little into eating.

That was my hope, anyway.