Page 52 of Demon's Beauty

“This is how you sleep?” I tease her. “You look about as comfortable as a corpse in a coffin.”

“No corpse jokes, please,” she grumbles. “Not after what happened last night.”

I must look properly chagrined, because she sighs and rolls onto her side, tucks an arm beneath her head, and cuddles further into the bedroll.

It’s an improvement.

Not great, but an improvement.

I’d rather be onmyside, with my witch’s back tucked up against my chest, my arm around her waist, all those raven curls tickling my nose and that glorious backside of hers pressed against my—

“Better,” I say, banishing those thoughts. “You’re comfortable?”

She nods and shifts closer, until the edge of the arm she’s laying on presses to my shoulder.

Not much, but a little, and even that small point of contact makes the bond in my chest sing.

I reach for the furs that tangled around my legs while I was sleeping and draw one over her. I’m still a little feverish—or maybe the fire inside me is just a natural consequence of having my mate so near—but no matter the reason, my mate needs the warmth more than I do.

She snuggles beneath them, lets out a breathy little sound of pleasure, and looks so damned adorable that my heart aches in my chest.

Goddess, I enjoy looking at her.

Even here, when the light’s so low I can barely make out her features properly, and I’m still half-delirious with medicine and the lingering effects of my injuries.

I could fall asleep with this view every single night.

In the cover of the morning’s dim, I dare.

Reaching out the arm I have closest to her, I drape it over her middle. And when she doesn’t protest, I tug her closer to me.

It’s still a little awkward given how I have to position myself to accommodate my injuries, but having her beside me is exquisite.

“What are you wearing?” I grumble when my hand brushes over the thick, coarse material of her pants. “These don’t seem very comfortable.”

Her shoulders shake with silent laughter. “I amnotgoing to take off my pants.”

“Really, I wouldn’t mind if you—”

“Not going to happen.”

I sigh dramatically, and it ends in a yawn as exhaustion catches back up to me. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

For the next few minutes, I bask in the feeling of having her here, with me. I count each of her breaths, marvel at the wonder of her, at least until I know I’m about to slip back under, and one last thought comes to mind.

“You did something,” I say, already losing my battle against the sleep lowering my heavy lids. “With your magick. Something that went beyond the salve you used for my burns.”

It’s impossible to forget the touch of that magick,hermagick, the powerful but gentle threads of it stitching me back together. No matter how out of it I was, I remember at least that much.

Soleil hums thoughtfully, relaxes further into me, and that small show of trust does almost as much to make me feel better as her healing did.

“I don’t do it often,” she admits. “Only in… dire cases. Pulling that kind of power always knocks me on my ass.”

A small, unhappy grunt escapes my chest. “You shouldn’t have done it, then. There’s no reason to put yourself in harm’s way for—”

“Finn.”

Damn, I like the sound of my name on her lips.