The demon launched over the rooftops as if shot from a catapult, his scream fading as he disappeared into the distance.
“That was cool,” Mariel said, “but, uh, do we know where he went?”
“He’s in chains,” Calladia said. “He won’t get far.”
Lilith grabbed Kai by the back of the neck and hauled him down into an aggressively tongue-forward kiss. “Werewolves have an excellent sense of smell,” she said after she broke away. “Fetch him for me?”
With a hearty howl at the sky, Kai leaped off the dais and started running.
A demon doctor hurried toward Astaroth. She tugged the knife out, then began treating the wound. Astaroth winced at the sharp pain, but he felt much better once his side was packed with medicinal herbs and gauze.
“So,” Sandranella said once the doctor was done. “Fancy being a part of the high council again, Astaroth?”
Calladia stiffened. Astaroth looped an arm around her waist, considering.
Being on the high council would give hybrids a voice in the seat of power, but did he want to keep doing this? The endless machinations, the slow march of progress . . . how long would it take Astaroth to fall back into the pit of cynicism and ambition?
His past was part of him. Not a comfortable part—more akin to a splinter under his skin—but still there. He didn’t want to be that person again.
And yet . . .
He faced Calladia, pulling her into his arms. “Calladia,” he said seriously, “will you be angry if I stay on the high council? Or at least act as a consultant for hybrid rights?”
A consultancy might be better anyway. More freedom to explore the worlds. More time to spend with his love.
Calladia’s face fell, but she recovered quickly, giving him a tight smile. “Guess you decided to take Isobel up on her offer, after all.”
Wait, Isobel the life witch? Astaroth was briefly confused before realizing Calladia thought he was planning a return to immortality, not just the high council.
After everything that had happened though, Astaroth had come to a conclusion.
The best aspects of himself didn’t come from his demon heritage, though he still wanted to make his mother proud. And though Lilith had a demon’s love of ambition and ruthlessness, more importantly she loved him.
He’d just seen Calladia, Mariel, Ozroth, Themmie, and a pack of random werewolves fight for demon hybrids for no reason other than that it was the right thing to do. Over the years, he’d watched mortals live with such aggressive passion, it boggled the mind. Living on Earth had provided a contact high of sorts, but Astaroth was done letting other people live boldly while he tried to diminish his emotions.
The best aspects of Astaroth were human.
Maybe it was because human lives were brief. They crammed in so much meaning that each day was an adventure. They cared so fiercely that their love stories echoed through time.
He wanted to make his mother proud, but more importantly, he wanted to make himself proud.
Though she was smiling, fear and sorrow shone from Calladia’s beautiful eyes. Astaroth cupped her cheeks, vowing to do whatever it took to erase that pain. “Calladia,” he said with his entire heart, “I don’t want to be immortal again.”
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
“I’m not going to contact Isobel again—well, after I pay her those gold doubloons, damn it. I’m staying mortal.”
After a moment, hope bloomed over her face like an exquisite flower. “Really?”
“Really,” he confirmed. “I can still do good here, and I hope to get more hybrids on the council going forward—and we should probably expand the council anyway—but as for my life . . .” He trailed off, thinking how to word it.
Words could do a lot, but not everything. His truth was a feeling, precious and warm, held safe within his rib cage. His truth was also in his arms, his equal in every way.
“Calladia Cunnington,” Astaroth said, “my warrior queen. I love you, and I want to spend a life with you. The good and bad and annoying and sublime. I want you to shout at me and kick my arse. I want to tickle your feet and tempt death. I want to live with you, as fully and aggressively as we can.”
By the end of that speech, his eyes were damp.
Calladia was crying, too. “Astaroth, pain in my ass and light of my life . . . I love you, too. I can’t believe how fast this happened, but I wouldn’t trade a moment of it.” She considered. “Well, maybe a few moments. But overall . . . yes. Sign me up for all of that and all of you.” And because Calladia was never predictable, her heart-stoppingly tender smile was followed by her gripping his horns in both fists and hauling him to her mouth. “Let’s do this, warrior king,” she said before kissing him soundly.