“Not much further,” I promised her.

Then, I turned my attention toward the expanse of ocean to my left, searching for the small island. It wasn’t like the lush Hatha Islands in the Angel Realm. No one would want to spend more than a few hours there, in fact. But it was remote, private, and provided rare solitude. The water on the west side was calm enough to dive deep and survey the rock formations beneath the surface. And to the east, the sand was black, making it unique among the otherwise grayish brown beaches along this stretch of the Demon Realm.

Spotting it in the distance, I altered our course. The talons of my wing dipped, slicing through the salty breeze. Assyria followed, using the air displaced by my body to glide smoothly along behind me. For someone who had been suppressed and not offered ample opportunity to master her magic, she had great control of her flying abilities.

At least that’s one less thing for me to feel guilty about.

A rocky outcropping emerged from the sea, one of the only flat places on the island that was good for landing. Tucking my wings close, I dropped my legs and hit the ground at a jog. Like I was snipping off a piece of thread, I released my magic. Without the weight of them competing with the ocean wind, I turned to watch Assyria.

A small divot appeared between her brows as she focused. The sun shone through the membranes as she flared her wings, highlighting veins of burgundy. Her trajectory slowed, and then, her wings disappeared altogether. The short fall sent her stumbling forward as she dropped to the island, clutching the blanket tight to her chest.

But she righted herself immediately, a whoosh of air leaving her lungs once she was stable.

“Very good,” I praised.

She shot me a grin. “For once, I didn’t need your help.”

“No, you did not,” I confirmed. “Spread the blanket out here, then fetch some sticks for a fire.”

She snapped the fabric out, then disappeared toward a nearby shore where wood often drifted up. We each took to our respective tasks, me removing the packed food and arranging it, her bringing me whatever she could find. On her third trip, I decided it was enough and built a small fire.

It wasn’t overly cold, especially with the cloudless sky, but extra heat was welcome.

Assyria reclined back, letting out a long sigh. “This is really nice.”

“I’m glad you are enjoying my romantic plans,” I said, striking a dagger against a rock and sending sparks scattering over the dried wood. “We haven’t even had the food yet.”

After the second strike, the kindling finally caught, and smoke filtered through the sticks to my nostrils. I leaned down and blew on the embers, igniting a small flame. Satisfied it would grow, I returned to the blanket and unwrapped the boiled eggs.

Assyria perked up as I put food on both our plates. With her back to the sun, the golden glow cast her in an almost ethereal air. My chest constricted at the sight.

“What?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

I shook myself out of my reverie. “Nothing,” I muttered, reaching for the butter to smear on my bread. I couldn’t help but steal another glance of her in that light though.

We ate slowly, saving the moment and each other. The fire crackled as it grew, spurred on by the occasional breeze. Most of the wind was blocked by the large boulders on the east side, giving us the peace and quiet I hadn’t realized I desperately needed.

“Tell me a good story of your time in Fured,” she said suddenly.

I finished the wedge of hard cheese, then dusted my hands off. Bracing them both behind me, I leaned back and stretched out my legs. “Discovering this island was a happy accident. Though what prompted me to seek it out wasn’t.”

I paused, trying to think of something better.

“To be honest, most of my happy memories are tainted by other events that happened shortly before or after.”

“Well why don’t you tell me the good part and focus on that without thinking about the bad?” she offered, knocking her foot into mine.

I heaved out a sigh. “I went out flying to cool off after my father departed one time. He’d just done this,” I tapped my slightly crooked nose, “and I refused to see the healers so they could rebreak and set it like they had a dozen times before. I knew he’d only do it again when he returned.”

I stopped, realizing I’d started with the bad anyway.

“Go on,” Assyria encouraged, sympathy dancing in her eyes.

“Anyway, if you saw on our way here, most of the soldiers go to the tunnel beach on their days off. There are a few more further away, but with the limited amount of time they are allotted, that is the easiest and quickest one to get to and from. I was so lost in thought, I flew further than I meant to, and when the fog cleared, here it was.” I gestured around us to the little spot of peace.

“It was like the Giver knew what you needed and offered it to you,” she murmured, chewing slowly on a flaky fruit pastry.

“Are you really going to tell me you believe that?” I questioned.

She pulled a mocking face. “I don’t know. Some days I feel like I do believe, like with our mating bond and Kiira’s visions. Other days, I’m not so sure, you know?” She waved the baked treat in the air as if she were trying to conjure the right words. “Like, we all know they exist. The signs, the visions, the rest. But does giving them our blood really change the outcomes of our path? Or did they put one in place from the moment we enter this world and that’s that? Do we have the power to change our lives, or is that all an illusion? And are the Weaver, the Giver, the Reaper, and the Goddess the only ones out there? What if there are more that haven’t revealed themselves yet?”

I listened to her questions with rapt fascination. Assyria had never been this open with me before about her beliefs, and she’d clearly put a lot of thought into them. It was a vulnerable side she’d yet to show me, and I found myself wanting to hear more of the inner workings of her mind, the deepest parts that rarely saw the surface.

“Who is to say we aren’t Gods among Demons either?” I asked her, just to see what she’d say.

“Because we have power like no one else?” she clarified.

I nodded.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe?” Another bite of pastry disappeared between her lips as she mulled over her thoughts. “There is one part of our faith I hope is true.”

“What’s that, little imposter?”

“That if a body isn’t burned, their soul can’t move onto another world.”

A sinister smile spread across my face. “Why do you think I made the throne of bones? Why I’m going to make you one with feathers to match?”

Red crept across her cheeks, and heat swept into her eyes. “I was thinking about Vagach, but that works too.”

My jaw immediately tightened at the thought of her deceased husband. That fucking slimy bastard who’d hurt her before she came to me. Every time she brought him up, this rage gripped me, and it wasn’t entirely the bond driving it anymore. She was mine and no one would dare question that—or harm her—and live. I’d only feel better once I’d had a chance to pummel his corpse myself.

“Would you like to add his bones to your throne?”

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip in a move that was entirely too sexy. “Only if we can couple on it.”

My cock was harder than the rock we sat on immediately, and the bond purred with wicked delight. “Fuck, Assyria, you have no idea what that just did to me.”

“I think I can imagine,” she replied, her voice wanton. She returned her plate to the basket, then crawled toward me. All I could think about was her lips around me while she was on all fours.

I didn’t hesitate to shove all the food we still hadn’t eaten to the side to make room for the way I was about to ravish her instead. “Strip for me,” I ordered her, my tone leaving no room for argument.