This was the first time I had explored the tunnels so deeply.
Callum’s laughter led me deeper, calling out to me in warning. “Don’t lose yourself in the dark.”
Then, silence. The light from Sybil’s laboratory was distantly visible behind me, but it provided little illumination. Faintly, I was able to make out a cluster of white candles nearby, so I lit them with a wave of my hand. Onward I went, lighting candles as I found them, and soon, the camp vanished entirely, lost behind me in the maze.
The quiet was unnerving. The tunnels felt oppressively small, the weight of the earth piled above me. But I kept going, following my senses to discover my demon’s path. He left no footprints, no marks of his passing. Instead, I tracked him using the subtle vibrations in the air that he left in his wake.
The slim silver thread that bound our beings together was faintly visible in the dark. It could be seen most clearly when I meditated, but it was visible to me almost all the time now. When Callum was away from me, that thread was pulled taut and tugging, urging me closer.
Rounding a corner of the tunnel, I caught sight of a beam of light cutting through the darkness. The tunnel sloped upward, little green plants clustered thickly around the mouth of the cave. Clambering up the slope, I emerged breathlessly into the forest, smiling widely as I shouted, “I won! Ha! What’s my reward?”
But the sight before me took my breath away, and I stared in disbelief.
The narrow cavern opening was in the middle of a meadow between the trees. The grass sloped away from me, toward a stream that trickled over a bed of smooth stones, its pebbly shore coated with dark green moss. Flowers bloomed in the grass, tall and swaying in the breeze, their yellow faces turned toward the sun. Insects flitted through the air, and birdsong filled the trees.
My demon stood waiting for me.
His expression was uncertain, almost embarrassed. At his feet was a large blanket laid across the grass, and on top of that was an open basket. There was a bottle of wine within and covered plates of various foods.
“Perhaps your idea of a reward was a bit different,” Callum said, when my stunned silence stretched out. “I was uncertain if you liked red or white wine, so white may have been the wrong choice.”
“This was your idea?” I said, and he nodded. “You…you made a picnic? For me?” He nodded again.
All I’d done was a simple training exercise, the kind of thing I needed to do every day anyway. It was too easy. What had I done to deserve this?
“Why?”
My question caught him off guard, and he frowned. Yet he still had an answer for me, and with every word my throat got tighter.
“I am not a gentle creature, Everly. I know my flaws; I’ve lived with them for centuries. I know the places I fall short and I see it in your eyes when I do.” He paused, his eyes drifting off to scan the trees around us. Always searching for danger, always ready to defend. “You’ll join me, won’t you?”
The grass was tall enough to brush the tips of my fingers as I walked over to him, joining him on the blanket. His claws caressed my cheek, his thumb coming to rest at the corner of my mouth as I smiled.
“It kills me to disappoint you,” he said. “I would cut off my hands if it would soften me enough to please you.”
“You do please me,” I whispered, looking at him with a sudden pang in my chest. But I couldn’t deny his words. There were times when I looked at him in fear, when I felt overwhelmed by his sheer power and experience. I was merely a twenty-three-year-old witch, and he was an immortal being who’d seen kingdoms rise and fall, who’d watched modern humanity come into being.
Yet, he wanted to please me.
“I frightened you the other day,” he said. “When the intruders came and I attacked them, I did it to defend you. But I still acted without thought as to what you would want, and for that, I’m sincerely sorry.”
Shock cascaded over me, swiftly followed by a strange and unexpected panic. “You don’t need to apologize. You did what you thought you had to, it’s okay, it’s —”
His finger pressed against my lips, silencing me.
“I offer you power, and yet when it comes time to relinquish mine, I struggle to do it because I fear what could happen to you. I worry about you, Everly, constantly. Not a minute goes by that I don’t think of you. And I would sacrifice my own life to protect you, but I can’t make myself into the creature you need.”
It ached to see him look so uncertain. I laid my hand on top of his, pressing my face against his palm. Skin-to-skin contact with him felt electric, a current flowing between us.
“Callum, you are exactly what I need. When I found you, you were what I needed most…” My breath caught with unexpected emotion, and I fell silent, ashamed of myself.
“I didn’t mean to make you sad.” His thumb stroked over my cheek. “I can protect you from harm, but I can’t protect you from what you feel. But I can give you shelter to experience the emotions you need to. If you need to speak, I want to listen. I want to understand.”
He knelt and pulled me with him. I sat cross-legged, facing him, trying to gather my words. I was accustomed to keeping my feelings locked up, hidden away. If something bothered me, I would simply bear it and move on because there was no other choice. To admit how I felt was too intimate, too…honest.
But Callum looked just as uncomfortable as I felt. He knelt before me like he was awaiting something painful. His posture was stiff.
The last time he’d tried to apologize to me, he’d begged me to hurt him. Maybe pain was the only way he knew how to deal with his guilt. But he’d chosen another way this time, and he looked lost.
“When I met you, I was so afraid,” I said. “Even now, I still feel so much fear, and yes — sometimes I’m afraid of you, Callum. You’re larger than life. You’re older and stronger than most beings I’ve ever encountered, and I’ve been surrounded by monsters every day of my life. But you gave me an opportunity to be brave and a reason to try. If I wanted to escape the monsters, I needed to be saved by one.”
Edging closer to him on the blanket, I said, “I need you, Callum, exactly as you are. I don’t need you to change. I need you to grow with me.”
I’d never been given a clear vision of what romance was supposed to look like, or partnership, or love. It terrified me to even think of those things, to dare put some kind of relationship label upon whatever this was.
But this, regardless of what I called it, was special. It was intimate, it was raw. It wasn’t something I wanted to change; it was something I wanted to explore, to nurture to see how it would grow.
Callum hesitated for a moment before he brushed his hand against my face. “The violence you’ve witnessed in your life is no fault of your own. Not your father’s violence, or your mother’s, or siblings’…or mine. But if I can, when this is over, I’ll give you a life without violence. That’s my promise to you.”
Shaking my head with a soft smile, I said, “You’ve already promised me so much.”
“But not enough,” he said. “It will not be enough until you are at peace. I found my hope in you and I have no intention of letting that go. So if I anger you, if I frighten you, or make you sad — tell me. Yell at me if you wish, take out your anger if need be. But don’t run from me.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against my shoulder before he turned his face, pressing into my neck. “Face me. Teach me. Let me learn how to take care of you.”
I was thankful his face was lowered, so he wouldn’t see the tears brimming in my eyes.
No one had ever wanted to take care of me. I had always been a burden to those around me, an unpleasant but unavoidable responsibility. When I wasn’t being ripped between my parents, I was trying to make myself a shadow in Meredith’s house to avoid her wrath.
This monstrous being claimed he wanted to keep me…protect me…care for me. The thought of allowing anyone else to take charge of my well-being was terrifying — no wonder Callum was tying himself into knots trying to please me. He saw the constant fear in my eyes, he saw me creeping through life like a hunted rabbit.
My reactions were my own responsibility to manage. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t steal the fear from my eyes or crush the distrust in my heart. I had to do that myself. I had to learn how to care for him too.
“It seems like you’ve already learned a lot,” I said, smiling at him as he raised his head. The tears still lingered in my eyes as I was unable to choke them down, but he swiped his thumb over my cheeks and wiped them away. “Where did the picnic idea come from?”
“I read one of your books,” he said and dragged the picnic basket closer. “Many years ago, I was told human women are fascinated by cheese, so of course…” He pushed open the basket, allowing me a glimpse at the goodies within. “I brought a variety.”
My mouth dropped open at the sheer volume of food he’d brought. It looked like enough to feed an army. A large bottle of wine stuck out of the backside of the basket, and Callum drew it out, using one sharp claw to easily pop the cork.
“Where are the glasses?” I said, peering around in the basket.
“The wine is already in a glass. Why would we need more?”
Why, indeed.
He passed the bottle to me, and I giggled as I lifted the whole thing into the air for a sip. He took out the food, each plate carefully wrapped in a handkerchief. There was a whole roast chicken, a variety of dry sausages and cheese, and a loaf of fresh bread that was still warm as he unwrapped it. There were platters of sliced fruit and cream, roasted vegetables, cold salads. Then came the desserts, which Callum didn’t bother to save for the end, but spread before me to pick and choose whatever I wanted.
I swiftly realized this monstrous pile of food wasn’t even meant for the both of us; Callum didn’t touch any of it except for the sausage, which he nibbled at as if it was an expensive whiskey to be slowly sipped.
“You really don’t have to eat food?” I said while layering chicken, cheese, and salad on a thick slice of bread.
“I have no need for it,” he said. “I do enjoy the taste of some things, however. Meat and sugar I find to be particularly tempting.” He took a piece of chicken and a chunk of lemon cake, popping them both into his mouth and then nodding with pleasure. Despite my certainty that I wouldn’t like it, I dared to try the combination anyway and proved myself right.
Callum smirked at my repulsed expression. He pulled me against his chest, resting his back against the massive tree we sat beneath. The position allowed me to lean against him, sprawled between his legs.
“Close your eyes,” the demon said, and I obeyed with a little shiver of anticipation. “Open your mouth.”
Something sweet and fruity dripped onto my tongue. A slice of fruit touched my lips, and I bit in, giggling as its juices filled my mouth.
“I love peaches,” I said, my tongue tingling with sugar as I swallowed. His finger traced along my lip, following my tongue as I licked up the sweetness.
He brought something else close to my mouth. The scent of strawberry wafted in my nose, and when I took it in my teeth, I groaned contently as I tasted the cream heaped on top.
“Are there fruits in Hell that aren’t on Earth?”
“Yes. Many of them,” he replied. “Entirely different species than what can be found on Earth. The evolutionary paths of our worlds are very similar, but Hell is infused with so much magic, it led to deviations.”
“Mm, what kind of deviations?”
“That’s a broad question, darling,” he said, but he sounded pleased to be asked, not annoyed. “Where could I even begin? We have massive creatures, some of which are legendary even on Earth. We have species of plants as intelligent as primates. We have plenty of humans, but after a few years in Hell, they’re practically indistinguishable from demons, save for their lack of magical abilities. Lacking for most of them, at least.”
“There are other witches in Hell?” I said, my eyes popping open with unexpected excitement.
Callum laughed, reaching for a cracker and piece of cheese which I eagerly pointed to. “Yes, of course. Witches and demons have had a long and fraught history with each other. Among demon kind, claiming a witch’s soul is the ultimate prize. A rush of power that most demons could only dream of having.”
“Lucky you,” I teased.
He kissed my neck, teeth and tongue coming to play teasingly close to my ear. “I’m very lucky indeed. I’m going to be completely unbearable when I take you to Hell. I’ll be showing you off at every opportunity.”
Every time he said such things, it caught me off guard. My cheeks turned hot as Callum’s arms tightened around me, a possessively proud embrace that I never wanted to end.
“There’s more to your reward,” he said. “But you must promise me first that you’ll tell me if it isn’t right.”
Confused but intrigued, I said, “I promise.”
He reached for a parcel inside the basket, wrapped in brown paper and secured with twine. Setting it on my lap, he wrapped his arms around me again and rested his chin on my shoulder, clearly eager to watch me open it.
“Oh my God…Callum!” As I tore the paper away, I revealed a large leather-bound journal within. But that wasn’t all. There were paintbrushes in a variety of shapes and sizes, and tubes of paint in numerous colors.
“I realized that you lost your artwork and tools when you left your father’s house,” he said. “Your days shouldn’t only be spent working and studying. I look forward to seeing your creations.”
I shifted around so I could face him, readjusting myself to straddle his lap rather than sit between his legs. A mask had come over his face, perfectly concealing his emotions.
“It’s perfect,” I said. “I never expected this…thank you.”
“I’ll gladly continue to defy your expectations.”
His eyes widened when I cradled his face in my hands.
“Close your eyes,” I said, “and open your mouth.”
His gaze darted around: searching the clearing, the trees, even the sky for any potential threats. Gently, I laid the palm of my hand over his eyes. He drew in his breath sharply, spine straightening, nostrils flaring. But he didn’t push me away.
“Relax,” I said, remembering how he had talked me down the morning after he claimed my soul, guiding me through every moment of anxiety. “You’re safe with me.”
Slowly, his fisted hands relaxed, scratching lightly at the grass. His thighs unclenched beneath me, shaking slightly as he let go. He exhaled, a heavy sigh that deflated his chest and shoulders, and leaned against the tree again.
“That’s better,” I said, keeping my hand in place. Reaching back, I grabbed a piece of sausage and a small slice of a cherry tart. The combination didn’t seem tasty to me, but I had a suspicion Callum would enjoy it.
Just as I’d hoped, he smiled after I put it into his mouth. Scrunching up my nose at the combination, I grabbed another bizarre duo of foods.
This time, my fingers brushed against his lips as he took it. He kept his eyes closed as I lowered my hand, his arms coming up so he could grip my hips. Taking a sip from the wine bottle, I pressed closer to him, bringing our mouths together. He drank from my mouth like it was a holy fount, messy and desperate, wine dripping from our chins as we parted, and I breathlessly laughed.
He opened his eyes, and they reminded me of the calm quiet depths of the deepest oceans.
“Thank you,” he said.
I was quite certain I should have been the one thanking him for going to all this trouble. Looking at him curiously, I said, “For what?”
With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes again and leaned back. The sun kissed his skin, turning that pale flesh faintly golden. With the soft, airy tone of someone on the verge of sleep, he said, “For giving me peace.”
