Page 122 of Demon's Beauty

She is still running, that much is obvious.

Running from whatever waits for her back in the human realm.

Running from the decision she needs to make.

Running so she doesn’t have to face it.

And perhaps I’d be more likely to talk her out of it if all her running didn’t bring her straight into my arms.

Though the clock is ticking and we both know she won’t be able to run forever, it’s easy enough to ignore it as I settle her more securely into my arms and take off.

Soleil gasps, her grip on me gets even tighter, and the trust she places in me to hold her and keep her safe as we climb higherand higher towards the clouds is the most humbling thing I can imagine.

I’d keep her safe for the rest of our lives, if she’d let me.

I’d be right here for her, always right here, making sure she’d never be alone again.

If only that were enough.

We fly over the side of the mountain which houses the court, and then northward toward the wilder lands beyond. The scenery here is stunning—stark, jagged peaks made softer by alpine meadows and a brilliant blue sky above. There’s a chill in the air this time of year, and I tuck my witch’s cloak more securely around her to ward off the cold.

The rush of the wind around us makes conversation impossible until we reach the spot I have in mind.

A beautiful glen high in the mountains.

In the springtime it’s filled with wildflowers, but even now the grasses are still a vibrant green and dotted with late-season blooms. The spot is popular with leisure-seekers from the court looking for some peace and calm in nature, but I’m grateful to find it empty today as we make a soft landing in the middle of the meadow.

Soleil gets shakily to her feet, and I keep my hands braced on her waist as her wide eyes take it all in.

“This realm is so beautiful,” she whispers in awe, and a sharp pang lodges behind my breastbone. “Every new place I see is better than the last.”

“There’s more to explore,” I say quietly, deliberately ignoring the note of melancholy in her voice. The note of farewell. “And I’d be happy to show it to you.”

In the space of a few moments, her awe fades. Her eyes go big and round for a different reason—filled with panic now rather than wonder. Breath coming in uneven gasps, face paling, I mentally berate myself for ruining the moment.

“Hey,” I say, soothing a hand up and down her back. “Talk to me.”

“I…” she begins, voice quavering. “I don’t even… I don’t know where to start.”

I pull Soleil into my arms. “Take your time. I’m here as long as you need me to be.”

Tucked securely into my embrace, she gets a handle on her breathing and takes the time she needs to sort her thoughts enough to explain.

“The witch in the atrium…” she begins slowly. “She’s from the Crescent Coven. She came to give me a… warning, I guess.”

A low, dissatisfied rumble breaks in my chest. “She threatened you?”

“No! Nothing like that.”

“Then… what did she say?”

Soleil rests her forehead in the center of my chest. “The entire coven is talking about me. About how I ran away.”

“I imagine they’re worried about you.”

She snorts an inelegant laugh. “That’s not the word I would use. More like sharks scenting blood in the water.”

I’m not exactly sure what asharkis, but her meaning is clear enough.