Page 54 of Princess of Bael

Most demons carried the stench of Hell with them.

But not Kayla.

I allowed myself another inhale, drawing the moment out as a result of my own weakness for her. I’d missed her without ever really knowing her, and to have her in my arms now resembled a fantasy more than reality.

It could so quickly shift into something dangerous and dark.

Which meant I needed to end it while it was comforting and light.

Kayla’s breath feathered over my lips in an unspoken taunt. Rather than give in to the temptation of her mouth, I merely kissed her cheek and whispered, “Sweet dreams, little heiress.”

Then I forced myself to release her before I did something I’d regret, and used my wings to carry me from the balcony over to my own rooms.

* * *

The sunrise arrived earlier than expected. Despite my best efforts, I’d barely slept, my mind too consumed with thoughts of Kayla to allow me much rest.

Knowing she was down the hall, within touching distance, had my urges kicking into overdrive.

It only proved how weak I’d truly become, because all I could think about was holding a female who despised me.

However, I pushed it all to the back of my mind as I led the burial service outside.

Johanna and Lucía had known my intentions without me having to tell them, both females meeting me at the gardens shortly after dawn.

Kayla had followed me as well, her presence a shadow that soothed my soul. It took serious effort not to reach for her after lowering Kristina into the ground.

No casket.

Just a divine being rejoining the earth.

Johanna and Lucía added flower petals, both of them whispering their goodbyes in soft tones.

It wasn’t a mass ceremony with sermons or passages read from ancient texts. Instead, we kept it simple, short, and quiet. Bael and Alastor stood nearby, their heads bowed in respect.

No sarcastic commentary this morning.

No dark humor.

Only peace.

I liked to think it was exactly what Kristina would have wanted.

I gazed down at her red hair, her pale skin, her fragile remains, and picked up the shovel to begin the process of covering her in the rich soil she’d maintained all these years.

The others watched in silence.

Kayla stepped forward as I reached the halfway point, her hand taking the shovel from me without a word as she finished the job. It served as a silent demonstration of partnership, both of us shouldering this responsibility together.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t even speak. However, I sensed her regret and sadness all the way to my soul. She and Kristina might not have known each other, but Kayla felt her death regardless. We both blamed ourselves. And we both would avenge her, too.

When I glanced at Bael, I found him watching his daughter with a glimmer of respect in his features, his fatherly pride clear in his expression. But she was too caught up in the task to notice.

As the final shovel of dirt met the grave, she kneeled and pressed her palm to the earth. There were no words spoken aloud, just her mental statements that would forever be her own.

Then she stood and faced me with an expectant look.

I nodded, telling her she’d done everything right this morning.