Page 42 of Demon's Beauty

Vayla shakes her head. “No wonder so many of your kind choose to come here.”

Soleil chuckles, and the sound has some actual humor in it this time. “Well, that’s one reason. Everyone getting an eyeful of the king when he came for Allie didn’t hurt, either.”

“What do you mean?” Again, I can’t stop myself from asking.

Her cheeks flush a deep, embarrassed pink. “Well… he’s very, uh…”

“Handsome? Sexy? Irresistible?” Vayla supplies. “Wings and horns and a tail really do it for you witches, eh?”

Soleil ducks her head, and everyone around the fire shares a laugh.

Warmth suffuses my chest.

Does my witch find demons attractive?

She sure seemed to when we spoke earlier in the healers’ tent.

The blush on her cheeks, the way she teased me, the unexpected delight of her sharp wit. None of it suggested she was repulsed by my presence.

Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately, for me and my ego—the conversation meanders away from how attractive witches find demons and on to other topics.

Soleil chimes in now and again, but mostly seems content to observe.

How different from me, my mate is.

I can’t stop myself from jumping in at any opportunity, from inserting myself right into the center of every social gathering. I live on it, thrive on it, and maybe it’s something I could give to her.

If Soleil’s not a social butterfly, I’ll never mind carrying the conversational burden for her.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. One night, one conversation—especially considering she’s in a new and disorienting environment—certainly doesn’t signify an entire personality.

One by one, most of the party drifts off to bed.

I probably should as well, considering I have the early shift on duty, but Soleil seems content to stay and sit at the fire, so I am, too.

I chat with Glenson, with Vayla, with Petyr and a few of the other guards, with all my senses half-distracted and always oriented toward my mate.

There’s no helping it, really. Even if I wanted to, the magick sparking between us makes it impossible not to notice her, impossible not to be attuned to her every word and movement.

So I don’t miss it when she rises from her seat.

The group has thinned even further, and a dull stab of disappointment hits me square in the chest.

At least until I realize she’s not headed back to her tent.

Soleil circles around the fire, takes the seat next to me, and I hope my pleasure at having her near isn’t radiating off me.

She catches my eye, and a little smile plays around her lips.

Clever witch.

There’s no way she wasn’t going to notice.

“It was lonely over there,” she says with a shrug.

“And over here?” I nudge her softly with my wingtip, and that smile gets a little wider.

“Better.”