The Touch of Demise │18+

32: Closest Thing To Heaven

GRACE

"If I asked you to not come with us into fae lands, would you listen?"

They had returned to Demise's land only a few minutes ago. They spoke rare words about what happened at the seutis. Grace knew that Demise's head was running wild, and frankly so was hers.

He stood in the middle of the lavish bedroom, the room they had used to converse the first few times he had summoned her. During the drive, he removed his crown and unbuttoned his shirt for comfort.

He looked, not like a domineering King, but a wounded Prince before her.

"Yes."

He looked shocked and then his expression turned suspicious.

"I'm not trained like you or Goliath. I am not as strong as you or Xerxes. I have never met a faeman in my life. I am out of my depth, and I know that because you need to protect me, you won't be able to focus on the job at hand." She took a step forward, the new gown she wore trailing behind her. The pain of the heels she wore vanished in light of the severity of this conversation. "But I also know that you and Goliath will need to train for a few weeks prior to going and we could use this time to train me also."

"You're sick-"

"Not if you feed Xerxes and then I feed from you. You saw what it did to me." She paused, a tight, unbelievable smile on her face. "I was strong. Healthy. Even Doctor Adiel said so. I rivaled Goliath, your best fighter. I could learn."

"In a few weeks, you think you can learn to be as good of a fighter as Goliath?"

"No, I don't, but I could be good."

"Gods, Grace, why do you want to go? Nothing good will happen there. People will die-"

"I'm not afraid of that. I've been dying my entire life."

"Don't say that," he growled. He turned around and ran a hand through his hair. He paced.

"I just," she slowed down for a second. "You are Demise, the Great King of Wolves, the Primus of Lycanthropes...and I am," she trailed off.

"You're Grace Jefferson, my mate."

"Exactly." She neared him, tears brimming her eyes. "Even you didn't say Queen of Lycanthropes. Being a Prima is not what people know me as. It's not the legacy that I have built. So what would the kingdom think if you went off to fight for them and I remained?"

"They would think I am protecting my mate."

"But I want to be more! I want to do more."

"You aren't going."

"Is that an order? Will you lock me here?"

He stayed silent, the promise on his lips, but then he looked at her and shook his head.

"Let me prove that I can keep up. I will train morning, noon, and night every day until the departure date. And I will do any task - any test - that you want to prove that I can. If I can't complete it, then I'll stay and I won't argue with you about it."

"You have nothing to prove to anyone, Grace."

"You want to protect your people." She grew closer, a hand on his chest. "They're my people too. Maybe this will convince you; when you are away, I get sicker. I'll get sick again. When we are not together, I get worse. What do you suspect would happen if you had to go off and fight for weeks without me by your side?"

He turned around for a moment and then faced her again, his hands finding her head and his lips finding hers in a furious kiss. It took her breath away and forced her onto her toes as he spoke to her.