Her former fiancé Saetth could never have given her that. Fresh from a night with Abyssian, she comprehended all the more just how cowardly and selfish Saetth had been. She shuddered to think how close she’d come to missing out on Abyssian. Tomorrow, she would tell the demon everything, revealing all about Magh and Nïx and Saetth. Lila would confess her feelings for Abyssian, knowing he felt the same. She gazed at the mantel. To the right of the scepter sat their diamond. If he truly let go of the past and embraced their future, he would understand what had driven her to undertake Saetth’s mission. If the demon loved her, he would accept her bloodline. Once she and Abyssian worked through her secrets, she would ask his advice on what should be done about her kingdom. She had a feeling her cousin’s days as ruler were numbered. . . . The demon’s eyes darted behind his lids, his breaths growing erratic. His fist clenched and unclenched, as if grasping for her. Heart aching, she smoothed his brow and whispered, “You are the most beautiful male I’ve ever known.” His eyes opened. “Calliope?” He blinked as if surprised to find her beside him. He reached for her, his strong arms enfolding her. “I never want to wake up without you.” He kissed her neck—her marking. “Abyssian . . .” “Yes, love?” “You’re my mate too.” She heard him swallow thickly as he pulled her closer. In Demonish, he murmured, “And that is why you own my heart.” As she drifted to sleep in the shelter of his wings, she thought, I’m in love with Abyssian Infernas. Sian remained awake after she’d fallen asleep. Savoring this satisfaction, he gazed at her mark. His possessiveness surged again, but so did his tenderness toward her. He would replay her words for eternity. You’re my mate too. After so much misery, his mind could barely reconcile a life with a passionate, brilliant mate he adored. And with their children as well. She wanted younglings with him! In every way, Calliope had been worth the wait. He could’ve gone twenty thousand years if he’d known this night awaited him. At last he understood what spending felt like: inconceivable ecstasy. But more powerful than the physical pleasure was the feeling of connection with Calliope. Sian now comprehended the bond only a mated male could experience. Maybe their history was supposed to have happened—to lead them to this present. Without Kari’s betrayal, he never would’ve sought out his father’s former alliance and been received into the Møriør. Sian might not have matured from a cocksure and conceited demon prince. He was different, stronger. Calliope was as well. Maybe we are both better. Her limbs started to twitch. More dreams. He delved, finding her blocks wavering. He’d hesitated to probe her dreams before, but she was his claimed mate now. They were one. He dipped into her thoughts. Flashes of scenes raced through her mind. She dreamed as quickly as she ran! In one snippet, she sat in the grassy yard of a mansion, playing with her dolls. She was miserably lonely, already knowing that she needed more love than her precious dolls could give her. She heard a male’s deep voice from a distance, and she gave a cry. It’s him! My betrothed has come to see me! Sian could feel the love she had for that male. His instincts warned that he didn’t want to see whatever might follow. He told himself to get out of her thoughts. Who was her betrothed? Damn it, who? The dream began to speed up even more, her memories bombarding him. They arose from all different times in her life, in no order. One face stood out among many. A male. Blond and tall. Handsome. Wait, was that . . . Nïx in one of her memories? Calliope must be experiencing imaginary scenes. She’d told him that she didn’t know the Valkyrie. But how could Calliope dream what Nïx looked and sounded like unless those two were acquainted? Why would his mate lie unless . . . ? He gazed down at her sleeping face. Lila, I beg: please don’t have betrayed me. He could not have waited all this time only to be deceived again. No, no, no. This wasn’t possible. I must be sure. . . . Just as he delved into her dreams again, he placed that blond male. Calliope’s betrothed, the one she adored, was . . . the king of the fey.
FIFTY-ONE