BONUS: Unedited – Roth POV 3

March 16, 2020

This should be read after finishing Storm and Fury. Only then will some of this would make sense to you. If you read this first, you’ll have questions—questions that would be answered in Storm and Fury. I hope you enjoy this little bit of time with Layla and Roth. 

Xoxo, Jen 

**** 

Thumper was way more badass than Drogon. 

Especially when he was in a bad mood, which was rather frequent. Come to think of it, I could count on one hand how many times when Thumper wasn’t in a Mad Targaryen, burn the whole world down rage.  

 All that familiar did was bitch and sleep and eat.  

Probably because I didn’t let him out to play a lot. Considering his patience was worse than mine on a bad day and he liked to eat cars, people, demons, angels, you name it, I didn’t exactly feel all that bad about keeping the cranky bastard on lock down.   

The dragon on the screen was currently incinerating some poor bastards until nothing was left. I snickered. Thumper would charbroil himself up some tasty afternoon treats instead of the whole burning to the point of ash.  

What a waste of good red meat. Or were humans considered white meat? Huh. Never really thought of— 

The sudden squirming at the end of the couch drew my gaze from the screen to where Layla sat and my chest squeezed at the same second my stomach did some crazy jumping.  

Damn.  

Never failed how many times a day or how many times a minute I looked at her, I felt that whoosh. Like I was in a freefall. She was…. Hell, she was what I treasured most, above all others and all things, even my familiars.  

Even me.  

And that would never change. I knew that the second she put her hand in mine. I knew that the first time I got my mouth on hers. I knew that the very moment she trusted me.  

My gaze flickered over Layla as she settled. Her hair so pale and long, she could’ve been doppleganger of the Dragon Queen she was currently watching.  

My Layla was hotter, though. Way hotter.  

Actually, when I thought about it, I didn’t think ‘hot’ was a good enough adjective for her.  Hell, there wasn’t a powerful enough word to describe her, because Layla was… she was breathtakingly beautiful. Even right now, I felt that damn catch in my throat as I stared at her. She stole my damn breath, and if anyone claimed that wasn’t possible, I pitied them. 

My gaze tracked over the strands of hair falling over her shoulder as she leaned toward the TV, her icy blue eyes wide. I loved it when she had her hair down. She favored it up, though, liking it off her neck and out of her face, but I loved how the mess of curls and waves looked like I’d just had my hands in the locks.  

And it usually looked like that because I did have my hands in it.  

Like her life depended on not missing a single second of the show, Layla was utterly engrossed and completely unaware of me staring at her like a creep—a love sick creep. Both her hands were clutching my ankles, and how much of my blood supply she was cutting off depended on whatever nonsense was going down on the screen.  

I felt the corners of my lips tipped upward as I continued to watch her. Who would’ve thought a year ago I’d be lying here with her, watching Game of Thrones—well, pretending to watch it? Not me. A year ago, I was…. 

I wasn’t going to think about any of that.  

Layla wiggled again, her grip on my ankles tightening as she leaned slightly toward me.  

My brows rose.  “You okay over there, shortie?”  

“Yeah.” She glanced over at me, her fingers easing around my ankles. “It’s just Robin. He keeps stretching and it’s tickling me.”
Thinking of the little fox familiar, I grinned. The familiar was quite active, moving constantly. A lot like Bambi, actually. She’d twist and curl her way around my arm, my shoulders and stomach, rarely staying still for any length of time.  

The grin faded as I briefly closed my eyes. The sharp slice of pain lit up my chest. Damn, I missed her.  

I guessed I wasn’t supposed to have favorites among my familiars. They were kind of like kids, but she was special. Bambi was my first and she’d been with me the longest. Losing her was like losing a part of myself.  

The last time I saw her wasn’t nearly long enough, but Bambi looked good. She looked like she was being taken care of, so there was at least that. The coven wouldn’t harm her, but I also knew they wouldn’t let her roam like she needed to. Keeping Bambi in her tattoo form was like keeping a jaguar caged and fed. Would the jaguar survive? Yes. Would it end well? Probably not.   

But even though it hurt like Hell to not have her with me, I didn’t regret for one second handing her over to the coven of witches. The act had been an intricate part in saving Layla’s life, so I would do it all over again if I had to.   

Layla stared at me for a moment and then picked up the remote, pausing the show. I lifted my brows, surprised. The Boss could appear in the center of the room during at episode an she’d keep watching the show. She tossed it back onto the ottoman, then twisted toward me.  

“You comfortable?” she asked.  

“I am.” Stretched out on my back with my arms behind my head and the most important person in this world and beyond beside me, I was more than comfortable.  

I was whole.  

Layla chose me, and sometimes I still couldn’t believe that she was here. That she was warm and breathing and that she chose me, the Crown Prince of Hell, but most importantly, she loved me in a way that kept the worst parts of my nature at bay, and I loved her in a way that accepted that worst parts of her nature. We were not two sides of the same coin, but she was perfect for one another, even though I had to admit to myself that I didn’t deserve her. Layla could’ve done better. She could’ve had Zayne, and that bastard was as good as they came. He would of done anything for her. 

Would of.  

I wasn’t so sure about that anymore. Once I believed he’d step over anyone, no matter who they were or what kind of shape they were in, to get to Layla, to protect her. Now? Yeah, I wasn’t so sure about that. Not after what I saw.  

Hell, I was relieved to believe that, because there was a tiny part of me that existed deep in the burning darkness where I was forged and brought to life, that wanted to rip Zayne apart with my damn teeth, limb from limb. Jealously and the irrational fear that Layla would wise up one day and realize Zayne was an all around better choice was not a good mix for a demon. Made me feel quite murderous, actually.  

Luckily, I was far more smarter than irrational, because while I didn’t think Zayne would just lay there and let me kill him, I was thinking there was a 95% chance I could take.   

But there was a hundred percent chance I could not take out the one who stood by his side now.  

Before Layla, I would’ve been stupid enough to try, so, yeah, she made me whole. A better demon or some shit and all of that. Sounded cheesy but it was true, and that scared the Hell out of me. Laws of the universe loved nothing more than to rip happiness right out from your fingertips.  

And there was definitely something screwy happening.  

Demons were leaving the city in droves. Upper Level ones who put the word terror in terrorize were unsettled by something. What, I had no idea. Neither did Cayman, and that was concerning. Just as concerning as the Wardens who were dropping like flies. Normally I’d give two shits about some dead Wardens, but if something could kill them, I needed to know exactly what would be capable of doing that and having demons running scared.  

Layla shifted my feet off her lap and then made her way over to me, crawling up my legs. She planted a knee on either side of my hips as she rested her hands on my chest.  

Heat burned through my blood as she settled on me. “Wherever this is leading is far better than what’s on that screen.”  

Her hair cascaded over her arm like a wave when she cocked her head to the side. “What are you thinking about?” 

I slid my arms out from behind my head. “Right now? I’m thinking about what you did last night, at approximately 12:26am when you were in this exact position.” I gripped her hips, squeezing gently. “But there were far less clothes on then.” 

A sweet pink flush swept across her cheeks. “That is not what you were thinking about a few moments ago.” 

“No,” I admitted, sliding my hands up her sides, under the loose shirt she wore. The moment my fingers grazed her bare skin, her lips parted on a soft inhale. “But that’s all I’m thinking about now.” 

Thick lashes swept down, hiding those beautiful eyes. She moved slightly, wiggling her hips. A groan cut off my breath, and a rather impish grin appeared on her lips. “I can tell.”
“Can you?” My thumbs brushed along the line of her ribs and then the soft, sweet swell of flesh.  

Layla nodded. 

“Good.” I smiled at her, then I lifted up, kissing her. Her mouth parted and the kiss deepened.  She tasted of the strawberries she’d been eating earlier and all the right life choices, and I was seriously thinking about what we’d done the night before… and this morning… and after lunch. I pulled away, nipping at her plump lower lip. “You taste good.” 

“So do you.” She rested her forehead against mine as she drew her hands up my chest to cup my cheeks. “But you’re not going to distract me. You were sad.” 

“Sad?” My hands moved back to her hips, and within a heartbeat, I had her under me, and I was settling between her legs. “Do I seem sad now?” 

Layla stared up with me with wide eyes. “No,” she drew the word out as she gripped the front of my shirt. “You seemed bound and determined to not answer my question.”
“Maybe.” I dropped my head to her neck, pressing a kiss to where her pulse beat.  

“Roth.”
“Mmm?” I licked the spot. 

“Pay attention to me.” 

“How?” I trailed a path of kisses down her throat, over the curve of her collar bone. “Can I pay attention to you more than I already am?” 

Her grip on my shirt loosen. “By telling me what made you sad.” 

My lips coasted lower, wanting to lose myself in her, gladly so. Truth was, I was already lost and I wouldn’t want it any other way.  

She slid her hand around my neck and sunk her fingers into my hair. She yanked hard enough to cause a shiver of pain across my scalp. “Roth.”
I grinned against her skin. “Harder.” 

“Oh, my God.” She pulled again, and this time I lifted my head.  

“What?” I asked.  

Her gaze met mine. “Use your mouth for talking to me.” 

“I can think of world of better things to do right now with my mouth that I know you’d thoroughly enjoy.” 

She lifted her head until her nose touched mine. “I would thoroughly enjoy you telling me what made you sad.”
I shifted my weight onto my right arm as I caught her mouth, kissing her. Her fingers tightened in my hair again, but this time for a whole different reason. She made the softest, sexiest damn sound as she curled a leg around mine. She didn’t taste of strawberries any longer. She tasted of me, and I had to say, I freaking loved that. So much so that I could feel myself start to lose a grip on my control, on what kept the more primitive, baser side of me under wraps. I was good with her, for her. I would never hurt Layla. I’d peel my own skin off first before I did that.  And I wouldn’t let anyone else hurt her. I’d tear the skin off any bastard that tried, but I was, at the end of the day, a demon. One more kiss, and whatever thoughts she had about chit-chatting would be lost. So would our clothes. Oh, she would be a hundred percent down for that and afterward she’d be a hundred percent annoyed that I had distracted her. Of course, nearly every part of me was willing to sit through the lecture later so I could wrap myself around her now, but I didn’t just love her. I didn’t just want her. I also respected her.  

And okay, Layla was a little scary when she was pissed.  

Scarily adorable but scary.  

I closed my eyes. A few moments passed while I slowed my breathing, feeling her heart rate also slow. Somewhere in the house, I heard a door close. Cayman must be back, and it was definitely a good idea that we were pumping the brakes. The demon really didn’t need to walk in on us engaging in shenanigans of the fun and naught kind… again.  

“I was thinking about Bambi,” I told her.  

Layla was quiet as she palmed my cheeks.  

I drew my thumb over the line of her jaw. “She’s a lot like Robin, always moving around and stuff.” 

“I remember,” she said quietly. 

I smiled a little at that, thinking about how Bambi liked to mess with Layla in class. “I used to think it was because she couldn’t get comfortable, but I come to realize it was her way of reminding me she was there.” 

“You think that’s why Robin does it?” 

“Possibly.” I paused. “Or he could just be trying to annoy you.”
“Probably the latter. He’s a jerk like that.” Her lips curved into a smile against my thumb, but it was a too quick smile. “I miss her too.” 

“Yeah,” I whispered, opening my eyes.  

“We’re get her back,” she said, her gaze searching mine. “One way or another, we will.” 

“I know.” 

“We just need to find a way that doesn’t backfire on Cayman. I like him too much for him to have to go back on his deal.” 

“I know,” I repeated, shifting us so we were now on our sides, face to face. If I were to take Bambi, neither I nor Layla would pay that price of going back on a deal. Cayman, who’d brokered it, would, and he’d pay for that in blood and death.  

“There has to be a loop hole of sorts,” she stated, wrapping one arm around me and snuggling close. “There has to be something.” 

My thoughts tip-toed their way back to Zayne and his extra special new friend who was powerful enough to take on a coven of witches and also happened to owe me a favor.  

Not that it needed to be said, but I was definitely the type of demon to collect on favors.  

I smiled then, and Layla arched a brow as she studied me. “What?” she asked, sounding wary.  

“There is definitely one way I know how to get Bambi back,” I told her.  “And her name is Trinity.” 

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