Damn him. I swallow hard. “You’re making it really hard to hate you.”
He smiles wanly. “I’m sorry.” Azazel turns us and moves away from the dancing, though he keeps a hold on my hand. “Let’s get you something to eat and drink.”
The moment we reach the table, he’s mobbed. I nibble on a cake that manages to be both savory and sweet and watch the old folk pass Azazel around. He submits to their questions about when he’ll get married and have children with faint laughter and an easy diversion that says he’s been through this song and dance plenty of times before. He even kisses a damn baby at one point, holding them easily in his massive hands. I refuse to acknowledge the lurch in my stomach at the sight.
He may not be fully comfortable in this setting, receiving this attention, but he’s quite good at it. And they all clearly love him. Why wouldn’t they? The changes he’s enacted have positively benefited their lives, families, and communities.
It doesn’t excuse the danger he’s put me in . . . but I’m having a hard time holding on to my anger. This is so much bigger than me. Yes, I wouldn’t be in this mess if he hadn’t spent the last few years as one of my best clients, but . . . It’s not as if I didn’t enjoy the time with him. It’s not as if I didn’t encourage him to keep booking me, to keep choosing me above the other professionals, even though I knew we were in danger of crossing several of my lines. If I’d told him to leave me alone, he would have.
But I didn’t want him to go.
Alice plops down next to me, an easy grin on her face. “You know, I thought it was one-sided, but you’re gone for him too, aren’t you?” She ignores my shocked expression and keeps chatting in that deceptively casual tone. “Don’t bother to deny it. You’re sitting here watching him like you’re seeing the next fifty, seventy, hundred years stretch out before you and you don’t hate the idea of it.”
I blink. “I’m thirty-five. There’s no way I’ll live another hundred years.”
“You will if you stay here. It has something to do with the magic infused in every bit of our realm. It makes people live longer. And yes, it does apply to humans. Not everyone who makes a deal goes home at the end of their seven years.”
Seven years. Not a lifetime.
My anger tries to bloom again, but it sputters and sparks, not gaining momentum. I’m so damn tired of fighting. I don’t know what that means for my future, but Azazel isn’t a monster. He’s a man who’s made mistakes.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I finally say.
Alice takes a long drink of her beer. “He’s getting close to his limit. I’ll distract them, and you get him out of here.”
I glance at her in surprise. She’s been boisterous and irreverent this whole time, but I should have realized there’s a keen and caring mind under all that attitude. “I can do that.”
“Good girl.” Alice bounces to her feet and moves toward the band. A new song begins, and she lifts her mug over her head. “To Azazel!”
“To Azazel!” the crowd cheers. They flock to Alice, cheering and dancing.
The man himself appears at my side a moment later, looking a little hunted. “How are you holding up?”
“Come on.” I take his hand. “Let’s get out of here.” Within seconds, we’ve slipped away. The sounds of celebration follow us into the trees and then finally fade to silence as we keep walking, putting distance between us and the village.
It’s only when we’ve been accompanied by what I assume are the normal night sounds of the trees—it’s not as if I have much experience with nature—that Azazel slows his stride and squeezes my hand. “Sorry about that. I didn’t expect a full event. I should have, knowing Alice.”
“It was fun.”
He pauses and gives me a look. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I know.” I find myself squeezing his hand back. “But it’s the truth. You dance well.”
“So do you.”
This is awkward but not in a painful way. Almost like we’re just meeting, just feeling each other out. It’s strange, especially considering I know what he sounds like when he comes.
Azazel loosens his grip like he might drop my hand, but I give him another squeeze and lace my fingers through his. “They love you.”
“They don’t know me.” He shrugs. “Well, Alice does, but she’s family. It’s not the same.”
My heart twinges, but I’m too content for it to be more than a passing ache. “I wouldn’t know.”
He gives me a sharp look. “Family isn’t only blood. Pope knows you better than anyone.”
My body flushes hot and then cold. “I’m aware.” I swallow hard. I’ve been very pointedly not thinking about Pope too often, but they slip into my thoughts more and more as time goes on. “I miss them.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t look at me. “After I deal with Brosh, I’ll take you home. It never should have gotten this out of control. I never should have panicked. The thought of you being hurt . . .” Azazel gives himself a shake and drops my hand. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was only reacting.”
I could call him a liar, could ask him how long it took him to write up that contract and if that counted as solely reacting. I don’t. It would hurt for the sake of hurting, and this moment feels as fragile as a soap bubble. “Azazel?”
“Yes?”
There are so many things I could say right now. The possibilities choke me. Today has shown me a different side of Azazel, but one that’s so intimately familiar, reminding me I’ve known him for years. In the back of my mind, I’ve spent this entire time trying to reconcile the man I thought I knew and the monster who tricked and then kidnapped me. Today gave me both. They’re the same. Facets of a single gem, priceless beyond measure.
I inhale deeply and stop. Azazel takes a few more steps before he realizes I’m not keeping pace. He turns to face me. “Eve?”
I close the distance between us slowly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you.”
His expression goes tormented even as his gaze heats. “I know.”
“But I’m . . .” I take another deep breath and press my hands to his chest. This feels scarier than anything I’ve experienced thus far, and that includes the attack the other day. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop myself from caring.”
“Eve,” he breathes. “You don’t have to.”
But I’ve started and now I can’t stop. “I don’t know what it means for the future or for us or for anything, but I’m so damn tired of fighting. I just want . . .”
He waits. It seems like he barely breathes, like he’d stand right here and be content to listen to me falter my way through this for years.
“I just want you,” I finish in a whisper.
Finally—finally—Azazel moves. He catches my hips and pulls me flush with his body. “Stay with me tonight?”
There’s only one answer. There’s only ever been one answer. “Yes.”
I don’t know how we get back to the castle. It feels like a fever dream of kisses and stumbling steps and questing hands that never quite reach where we need them. Between one step and the next, the forest fades away to be replaced by stone walls and then a familiar scent.
The castle took us to my garden.
Azazel strokes a hand down my spine and looks around. “We could—”
“I don’t want to wait any more.” I shove at his shirt. “Please, Azazel.”
He lifts his arms, but he has to lower the rest of his body so I can get the tunic over his head. I toss it to the ground and go for his pants. He catches my wrists. “Eve—”
“If I don’t get your cock in my mouth right now, I’m going to lose it.”