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Rumi always knew there was darkness within her, something dangerous, something wrong.
Even before she understood what the patterns meant, even before she first heard the word ‘demon’, she felt it there, a piece of her soul and yet so different from the rest of her.
A piece of her that needed to be carved out, destroyed, eradicated.
Fighting that darkness became her purpose, her reason, the source of her strength. She could not stop, would not stop, not even for one moment. Not until she was finally free.
For so long, she managed to cage that darkness, keeping it small and trapped within her. Even when it struggled, even when tendrils slipped out to creep through her body like shadows sliding across stone, it seemed like she was winning,
At least, that’s what she told herself back then.
So when that strength fails her when she needs it most, when her voice falters and refuses to return when they’re on the verge of raising the gold Honmoon, it feels as if her entire existence is poised to crumble around her.
She will do anything, anything to get her voice back, to finish what her mother and so many generations of Hunters started.
But she never could have imagined that her salvation would come in the form of a demon.
Jinu, who somehow understands her.
Jinu, who sees in her something no one has ever seen.
Jinu, who shows her that their world is far more complicated than she’d ever imagined.
More complicated, and somehow more beautiful.
Like maybe this part of her that she’s fought her whole life isn’t so wrong after all.
They meet away from the heart of the city, somewhere quiet, where they won’t be seen. Building lights twinkle in the distance like stars strewn across a midnight sky, the moon shining bright above.
As soon as they’re together, all the fear and stress and worry fade away. They’re still present inside her, clinging to her heart like reaching, grasping hands. Those feelings won’t ever leave her entirely until she knows the world is safe and her patterns are gone. But for now, at least, they don’t feel like they’re going to consume her, devour her, tear her apart from the inside.
Even acknowledging it for what it is, Rumi still doesn’t understand why Jinu has this effect on her. At first, she wanted to believe it was simply the relief of sharing her secret with someone who accepted it, in a way Celine never has and never will.
But she knows it’s more than that.
With Jinu, she can be truly herself.
With Jinu, she can breathe.
With Jinu, she finally feels free.
And so, she doesn’t hesitate to ask.
“So, about tomorrow. Have you thought about my proposal?”
Jinu leans back against the stone wall, a sudden heavy weight shrouding his big frame, a stark contrast to the levity of a moment earlier when they’d been discussing the bird’s hat. What she’s asking of him is not a small thing, Rumi knows that. And yet, she can sense that some part of him wants to say yes.
“Look,” he begins, reluctance obvious in his tone. “I want to believe in your crazy plan, but I don’t think I’m the one to help you.”
He doesn’t know, then. He doesn’t understand. What he’s done for her, how he’s changed her—saved her—and with her, the fate of the world.
“Actually, you already have,” she says, and the arrested look on his beautiful face speaks volumes, so Rumi continues. “I spent my whole life keeping this secret, this shame of what I am. And the more I hid the shame, the more it grew and grew until it started to destroy the one thing that gave me a purpose: my voice. But since I’ve met you, and the more I talk to you, I don’t understand it, but somehow, my voice has healed.”
He looks at her, looks at her like he’s never seen her before. Like he’s never seen anything so…
So precious.
Is she precious to him? She wants to believe it, because somehow, against all the odds and everything she’s ever been taught, despite all the voices insisting that this is wrong, he has become precious to her.
More than precious, he has become essential.
She needs him by her side.
She needs him.
The moment their hands touch, their eyes locked on one another, Rumi knows, unquestionably, that she can’t go back to life without him. Not ever. Part of her already suspected, but now it’s clear. Something fundamental has shifted inside her, and she will never be the girl she was before.
But standing there on the street with Jinu, their hands clasped, she’s not sure that’s such a bad thing.
The night sighs quietly around them. There are no cars zooming past, no people walking along the sidewalks, calling out to one another. It’s just them, in the faint glow of the streetlights, as if they’re the only two people in the world.
For a long moment, they simply look at one another, some deep connection pulsing like they’re tied together by a string—by fate itself. Like somehow their souls know one another. To Rumi, it feels like she’s looking at something she’s been searching for her whole life, without ever knowing it was missing.
And part of her knows that Jinu feels it too.
Slowly, the world comes back into focus around them, and their hands separate, Rumi’s moving to press over her heart that’s suddenly beating too fast.
Jinu reaches as if to touch his own ear, astonishment writ clear across his features. “I… I don’t hear his voice.” And then he looks up at Rumi with determination. “I’ll make sure the Saja Boys lose tomorrow.”
All at once, the desire to step closer, to touch more than just his hand, pulses through Rumi like a second heartbeat. He’s going to do it, perhaps because it’s the right thing to do, but a large part of her hopes that some part of him is doing it… for her.
She stares up into his eyes. “Then we’ll both win.”
For a moment, neither of them speaks. And though what’s passed between them tonight has changed everything, Rumi knows that she should go. The Idol Awards are tomorrow, and even with Jinu’s promise, she still has to perform well enough to raise the gold Honmoon.
But she doesn’t want to leave him.
Still, she makes herself turn away. Perhaps after the Idol Awards, when the future is safe… If he wants it too…
And then a hand grabs her wrist.
Even through the sleeve of her heavy sweatshirt, the heat of his hand sears her skin like a brand. Is it because he’s a demon? Or is it because he’s him?
But as soon as she asks herself the question, she knows the answer.
“Rumi,” he breathes, and her name on his lips is a plea, a prayer, a hope for something more.
Something that she wants desperately.
He pulls on her wrist gently and Rumi doesn’t resist.
They come together like stars colliding, epic and inevitable, his body so firm beneath the layers of his clothes as her hands reach for his shoulders so she can press up on her toes and kiss him.
If the first press of their bodies was a stellar collision, the first brush of their lips is the remaking of the universe, the whole world unraveling and reshaping around them. It is everything Rumi never knew she wanted, his mouth soft and warm, his musky, slightly metallic scent flooding her awareness. His arms wrap around her, hands firm on her back as he holds her close, but it’s not close enough. She needs to merge them into a single being.
Breathing hard she pulls back just enough so that she can meet his eyes. He looks at her with open astonishment, as if he’d hoped but never believed that this could happen. If Rumi had any doubts left, that look would have burned them to ash.
“Come with me,” she says, her voice low and breathy.
“Anywhere,” he readily agrees.
It fills her with such overwhelming joy that she almost forgets her purpose and throws herself at him again. But the middle of the street is hardly the place for what she has in mind, for what her body is screaming at her for.
So she lowers back to her flat feet, taking his hand and pulling him along down the road. He stumbles after her, all gangly long limbs and overflowing eagerness.
There was a reason Rumi picked this area for their meeting. Not only is it far enough away from the city that they could be reasonably assured of their privacy, but also because she knows this area, and even in the darkness, she easily leads the way.
After only a few minutes, she pauses before a particular house. Rumi drops Jinu’s hand to reach under her hoodie and withdraw a long silver chain with a key dangling from the bottom, which she uses to unlock the door and let them both inside.
She flips on the light that thankfully still works, even though it’s been so long since the last time she was here.
“What… is this place?” Jinu asks cautiously, shutting the door behind him and looking around the small entryway, as if he somehow understands how important it is.
“It was my mother’s,” Rumi explains. “This is where she was going to raise me, before…”
Before she died.
Even after all these years, she still can’t say it.
So she shakes her head to clear the thought from her mind. “Anyway, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.”
Though she’s never actually lived here, this little house holds all the traces of her mother that remain in the world. Before Jinu, Rumi never would have imagined bringing someone here, sharing it with anyone. Not even Celine has a key.
But everything about Jinu is different.
“Can I…” Jinu swallows hard. “What about your father?”
Her father.
A demon.
“For so long I avoided thinking about my father, about how I came to exist,” Rumi answers honestly, fighting the urge to look away in shame. “I couldn’t imagine any circumstances that wouldn’t be completely horrible. But now…”
Now, looking at Jinu, she’s not sure what to believe.
Is it possible that her mother had actually loved her father?
Is it possible that Rumi might love Jinu?
Yes, a part of her screams. It’s possible.
She holds his gaze, knows her eyes must be so huge. Can he read the emotions overflowing inside of her?
“Rumi,” he says, again in that reverent tone, and she can’t stay away from him for a second longer.
She closes the distance between them, pushing Jinu back against the door. Their lips find each other like gravitational forces, and Rumi’s body instantly floods with a brightness unlike anything she’s ever felt before. It’s as if she never knew the true meaning of the word golden until Jinu touched her.
She never wants to go without this feeling again.
“Rumi,” Jinu gasps against her mouth, his big body heaving. “Are you sure?”
Perhaps it’s crazy, perhaps she shouldn’t be, but Rumi has never been more sure of anything in her life. “Aren’t you?”
A shift comes over Jinu, as if he can’t abide the possibility of her thinking he doesn’t want her as much as she wants him. Suddenly his arms tighten around her, one of his hands cupping the back of her head. His mouth returns to hers, but fiercer this time, hot and hungry. It pulls a moan from her throat, as his tongue traces the seam of her lips, urging her to open.
She does so gladly, fisting her hands in his hoodie to help hold herself in place because he’s just so ridiculously tall. Even on her tiptoes, it’s a struggle to reach, but he ducks down a little lower so he can slide his tongue into her mouth.
The golden light within her glows brighter and stronger at the warm wet of his tongue against her own. Electricity surges through her veins, sparking and crackling. Rumi hasn’t ever felt anything like it and can’t get enough of him. She wants more, needs more, and lets her hands slide up to the jacket layered over his hoodie, pushing it off his broad shoulders.
Jinu catches on quickly, pulling away so that he can wrestle the garment off. As soon as the jacket falls to the floor Rumi pushes his hoodie up, and Jinu soon takes over that too.
Once it’s off, leaving him in his jeans and a black T-shirt, he peers down at Rumi, both of them breathing hard.
And then he reaches for the hem of her hoodie in turn.
Even as she fights for breath, Rumi nods, granting her permission. As soon as he has it, Jinu draws the heavy garment up, his knuckles brushing against the bare skin of her midriff, exposed by her white crop top. Heat and longing surge through Rumi at just that light brush, her entire body feeling lit from within.
But even with how much she wants him, even with how right everything feels with Jinu, she can’t help the instinctual fear that flares inside her when he pulls the sweatshirt over her head, revealing her arms with their light purple patterns.
In the past when she’d been intimate with people, she’d always insisted on keeping her clothes on. Now she steps back, reaches to cover herself with her hands. But Jinu steps forward, taking her hands in his own.
“Rumi,” he whispers, and when she looks up to meet his gaze, she sees that his eyes have shifted to their true shade.
Golden.
Golden, and full of longing—longing for her.
“You are so beautiful.”
Feeling overwhelms inside her. The knowledge that Jinu sees her, all of her, inside and out. He sees her, and he doesn’t despise her or think she’s a monster.
He wants her.
Again, she closes the distance between them, arms sliding around his neck. He grasps her face with both hands, kissing her like if he stops kissing her, he’ll stop breathing.
Rumi doesn’t know if she will ever become accustomed to the sense of overwhelming belonging and wholeness that she gets just from being with Jinu. Feelings that she’s searched for all her life, convinced she had to destroy a part of herself to find. But they were inside of him all along.
Without their heavy outer layers, the warmth of his body radiates through his T-shirt, seeping into her skin. She wants to be surrounded by that heat, by his scent. Wants to be so entwined they’ll never be separated.
So she toes off her shoes, as Jinu quickly does the same. And then she pulls him deeper into the little house.
It’s awkward, and they stumble. He’s too tall and she can’t stay on her tiptoes while walking backwards. But neither of them care. They can’t stand to let go of one another, to stop kissing, so they don’t.
Her mother, it turns out, wasn’t much of a traditionalist. The house has a western style living room with a couch, and Rumi debates stopping there. But there’s no sense in pretending this isn’t what it is, or that she doesn’t want what she wants. So she continues on to the bedroom beyond.
Somehow they end up on the bed, on their sides, a tangle of limbs. Now that they don’t have to hold on to each other to stay close, their hands start to wander, to map each other’s contours and curves, so that they can know each other’s bodies as well as they know each other’s souls.
This time, when Jinu’s fingers brush her bare side, Rumi can’t hold in a moan, his fingers against her skin making the light within her go brighter. He moans in response, as if her pleasure brings him pleasure, and wraps his big hand around her waist.
Rumi presses closer, taking the opportunity to lick into his mouth. Jinu shudders, and it fills her with a different kind of warmth, an immense pride, that he responds so strongly to her.
They respond so strongly to each other, because somehow, they complete one another.
She reaches for his shirt, pushing it up his sculpted torso. Jinu breaks the kiss to pull it over his head, and Rumi takes the opportunity to push him onto his back. She climbs on top of him, straddling his waist, his hands coming to rest on her hips over her jeans.
For a long moment, they peer at each other, his gorgeous body on display beneath her. Somehow, despite how much she has always hated her own patterns, his are utterly beautiful to her. Because they’re a part of Jinu.
And Jinu is beautiful, not defined by what he is.
Just like Rumi isn’t defined by what she is. Jinu helped her to understand that.
So, holding his gaze, she grabs the bottom of her crop top and pulls it off. She’s not wearing a bra beneath, her small breasts and the full extent of her patterns now on display.
Jinu’s gold eyes flash as he looks at her, drinking in the sight like he can’t get enough. “Did I—” He swallows hard. “Did I already tell you that you’re beautiful?”
Rumi smiles and reaches for one of his hands. “You did,” she confirms, lifting his hand to her breast. “But you can say it as many times as you want.”
But he doesn’t say anything, transfixed by the sight of his hand on her body, completely covering her breast. And then his thumb brushes over her nipple, making her gasp.
At the sound, he surges up, wrapping his arms around her, his mouth falling to her neck.
Suddenly he can’t shut up.
“So fucking beautiful,” he groans as he kisses the side of her throat, pulling a moan from her mouth. “The most—” he nips at her jaw “—incredible—” he trails his tongue down the side of her neck “—thing I’ve ever seen.”
Rumi pants, clutching his back and writhing against him as he continues.
“You know, I can barely think when I look at you,” he says, his mouth continuing down over her clavicle. “But when I’m not looking at you, I can’t think about anything else.”
“Jinu,” Rumi moans.
The progress of his mouth on her skin sends torrents of heat through her body. She wants him more than she has ever wanted anyone or anything, desire a heavy weight inside her, pulsing between her thighs.
And then he reaches the swell of her breasts, kissing his way to her hard nipple. He licks it, a jolt of pleasure rushing through Rumi, and she tilts her head back to give him better access. His hands hold her tight in his lap as he licks first one nipple and then the other, trailing fire across her skin. It makes the need grow inside her until suddenly the jeans they’re both wearing are intolerable.
Using the strength that had so surprised him that day in the bathhouse, that day he discovered her secret and took the first step toward becoming the most important person in her life, she pushes Jinu back to the bed.
Just like that day, he blinks up at her in awe and surprise. But Rumi has a goal in mind, and shifts down his body. She brushes over his trapped erection as she does so, both of them gasping in response. And then her hands find the waistband of his jeans.
Her fingers tremble a little as she works the button. This is hardly her first time, but she’s never wanted anyone the way she wants Jinu. No one has ever meant as much to her.
And then his fingers brush hers away. “We don’t—” he starts, the words strained. “We don’t have to keep going. We can stop.”
“Absolutely not,” Rumi says, affronted, although she appreciates the concern in Jinu’s voice, the care. He cares about her, maybe as much as she cares about him, and that’s exactly why she wants this.
He looks up at her, still so awed, like he can’t believe he found himself here, in bed with her. “Are you su—”
Rumi surges forward to cut off the question with her hand over his lips. “You don’t have to keep asking that,” she says. “I know what I want. And I want you. All of you.”
And then she replaces her hand with her mouth.
Jinu kisses her back, any hesitation clearly drained out of him when he reaches between them again—but not for his own jeans. Instead, he moves to the fastenings of hers, slipping the button free, tugging the zipper down. And then he pushes at the waistband, shoving the jeans down over the curve of her backside, revealing the lacey white panties she has on beneath.
Not to be outdone, Rumi opens Jinu’s jeans as well. And then they’re both squirming and shimmying to get the clothes the rest of the way off, until only their underwear remains.
Jinu reaches for her, and Rumi lays herself on top of him, their hearts pressed together and beating in time.
She revels in his warmth, in the solidity of his body, which feels like it was made for her. And with only his thin trunks and her thinner panties between them, the heat and rigidity of his cock presses against her center.
It makes her core pulse and her mouth water. So, after kissing him again, savoring the taste of his lips, Rumi trails her mouth down his neck, an echo of his earlier actions. Jinu’s breath comes ragged and hard, but he doesn’t try to stop her as she kisses her way over his firm pectoral and chiseled abdomen, and then lower still.
Beneath the gray fabric of his trunks, his cock jumps as she draws near. His scent grows stronger the closer she gets, the salt of his sweat, his natural musk, plus something fiery and metallic that she’s never smelled on anyone else.
Will he taste the same as he smells?
She hooks her fingers in the waistband of his trunks, pulling the fabric down. Jinu helps by lifting his hips, and then reaches for her again. But as much as she wants to climb into his arms, to peel of the last of her clothes and remove every last bit of distance between them, there’s something else she wants to do first.
So, instead, she stops climbing up his body when her face is level with his groin.
There are patterns there too, she realizes, though perhaps it shouldn’t surprise her since they cover every other part of his body.
He gasps when she reaches to take hold of his cock, a choked, strangled sound spilling from his throat as she wraps her fingers around it.
“Rumi,” he groans. “That’s not—I would never ask—you don’t have to—”
But seeing him so overwhelmed just strengthens her resolve.
“You’re so old fashioned,” she teases. “Trust me, I want to. Just relax and enjoy it.”
He doesn’t protest again, but his hands fist in the sheets as Rumi leans forward and licks him from root to tip.
Another choked sound spills from Jinu, his hips jumping, and all of a sudden the patterns on his skin flash. The sight calls to something deep within her, and she does it again, watching his markings go bright in response.
He tastes exactly like he smells, masculine and metallic and traced with fire.
She wraps her tongue around the tip of his cock, the patterns growing brighter with each swipe. It’s staggeringly beautiful, he is so beautiful, his body straining, his fists white-knuckled.
And then she takes him fully into her mouth.
“Fuck, fuck,” Jinu curses. “Shit, Rumi.”
Rumi hums in pleasure at his reaction. She’s never had much of a gag reflex, and she has incredible breath control from so many years of singing, so she never minded giving oral. And her partners have always been appreciative. But with Jinu, she wants more than appreciation. She wants to make him feel incredible.
Breathing in deep through her nose, she starts to bob along his length. His cock slides pleasantly over her tongue, the patterns on his skin growing brighter with each stroke, as tortured sounds spill out of him. Each flash of purple, each pained moan, fills her with pride and pleasure, and she continues to slide up and down his length until he’s gasping and shaking.
“Ru-Rumi,” he moans. “Stop—stop—I’m going to—”
She pulls off, not because she’s opposed to him coming in her mouth, but she meant it when she said she wanted all of him. She climbs up his body to lay once more in his arms, and he immediately kisses her hot and hard. His tongue sweeps into her mouth, his arm wrapping around her waist, and then suddenly he flips her onto her back.
A little ‘oof’ of surprise escapes her, but she just tangles her fingers in Jinu’s perfect hair, so soft and silky beneath her fingers, meeting his tongue with her own. He maps the inside of her mouth, as his cock twitches against her thigh, and Rumi wants so badly to take him inside her.
But then he’s breaking the kiss and moving down her body.
“My turn,” he says, pressing his lips to her soft stomach.
His fingers hook in her panties, pulling them off. Rumi spreads her legs for him, trembling a little in excitement and anticipation as he settles between her thighs, hooking his arms beneath them.
“I, uh, I haven’t done this in… a long time,” he admits.
“How long?” she asks, curious. It doesn’t matter if he’s terrible at it. Because of her inability to find true intimacy with her previous sexual partners, she’s never really enjoyed receiving oral. And yet, with Jinu, she’s excited just to try.
“About four hundred years,” he deadpans, and she realizes he’s completely serious.
Apparently demons don’t have a lot of sex.
Still, it’s funny to recall that he’s so much older when he acts like he’s her age, as nervous and fumbling as she is.
“It’s okay, I’ll tell you what I like,” she says.
But in the end she doesn’t need to.
Jinu licks her once from her entrance to her clit, and Rumi nearly levitates off the bed, a wail spilling out of her. His tongue is big and flexible, and he licks her again, and then again, like he wants to devour her, sensations she’s never felt before sweeping through her body.
“Jinu,” she moans as he hones in on her clit, rolling it in sweet little circles, sparking fire in her blood.
He hums in approval at her response, the vibrations against her core leaving her quivering. And then he takes her clit into his mouth and sucks.
Rumi shrieks at the intensity of the pleasure that floods her, hot and bright and sweet. The light of ecstasy shines within her, and she writhes beneath him, sobs spilling from her as the tension builds and builds. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t relent, his grip tight on her thighs as he pushes her higher and higher until the heat erupts, an explosion of molten bliss that has her sobbing and shuddering in his hold, her walls fluttering around nothing, her core achingly empty.
For someone who hasn’t done that in four hundred years, he can tell when to ease off, pulling back before it becomes overstimulating. Rumi pants as he crawls up the length of her body, reaching for him and dragging his mouth down to hers. Her slick is on his lips, his tongue, but she doesn’t care.
No one but Rumi herself has ever made her come before.
It’s just one more piece of evidence that they’re perfectly matched, as if she needed any more.
And now she wants to find out how he fits inside her.
So she lifts her legs and wraps them around his waist, feeling his cock shift against her slick folds.
Jinu breaks the kiss, gasping.
“Rumi,” he moans.
“I want you,” she says, pressing her hips up against him. “I want everything.”
His lips return to hers as he reaches between them, taking hold of himself. He doesn’t ask her if she’s sure this time; he doesn’t need to. The sureness, the rightness, the inevitability fills the space around them, the very air they breathe.
He positions his cock at her entrance as Rumi clings to his shoulders, her heart racing, her breath coming hard. She wants this, wants him so badly.
And then he slowly presses forward, breaching her. She’s so wet and ready that he easily slides inside.
“Fuck, Rumi,” he groans. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“Jinu,” she moans in response, because he feels just as good, pleasure surging from her core up to the top of her head and down to the tips of her toes, so good she can hardly fathom it.
After so many years of suffering, of constantly fighting, it seems unbelievable that perfection like this can exist, and that she gets to experience it.
All of that pain, all of that misery, the lies, the hiding, the stress, the working herself to the bone; all of it seems worth it, now that she gets to be here, in Jinu’s arms, as close as two people can be.
Rumi doesn’t know what she did to deserve this, to deserve him, but she will never stop being grateful for whatever sequence of events led her to this moment.
He fills her slowly, his cock dragging perfectly along her walls. The pleasure tingles deep inside her and all along her limbs, her breath coming in shallow pants as he pushes forward until he’s all the way inside.
“Is this—” he pants out, looking down at her with those golden eyes full of concern. “Is this okay? Are you okay?”
“It’s so good,” Rumi moans, her fingers digging into the muscles of his upper back. “You feel so good.”
Relief passes over his face, and then Jinu leans down and kisses her. One of Rumi’s hands slides into his hair as she kisses him back. And then he pulls out, and eases back in.
She gasps against his lips at the surge of pleasure that ignites in her blood. He does it again, gliding easily through her wet, aching core. And then he does it again, and again, setting a steady pace.
Each stroke fills her with bright bliss, pleasure surging as he finds the perfect place inside her and nudges it. It pulls a wail from her mouth, Rumi gasping and sobbing and writhing beneath him as tension winds tight in her core.
And then he reaches for one of her hands, pressing it to the blankets and tangling their fingers together.
“I can’t believe I get to do this,” he moans as he thrusts into her. “You are so fucking perfect—never could have imagined—more than I ever dreamed—”
“Jinu,” she half-moans, half-sobs, gripping his hand so tight as the pleasure grows bigger and bigger inside her. “Jinu, I—I—”
She doesn’t know what she’s trying to say, only that she’s never felt anything as immense as the pressure amassing between her thighs. Jinu breathes heavily, thrusting into her perfectly, hitting that sensitive spot over and over until he hits it just right and suddenly Rumi’s entire existence floods with perfect golden pleasure.
Her body spasms around him, clenching down hard on his cock as he rocks into her.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, Rumi, I’m going to—”
“It’s okay,” she gasps out, drowning in pleasure, wanting him to feel as good as she feels, wanting to share that feeling together. “It’s okay, I have an IUD, you can finish inside me.”
Groaning, he drops his head to her neck, thrusting one more time before his body abruptly jerks and goes still, his cock shuddering inside her.
They pulse together for a while, breathing hard. When the pleasure subsides, Jinu lifts his head to look down at her with the softest expression. Rumi still has one hand in his hair, so she pulls his mouth to hers, kissing him long and slow.
And when they finally break apart again, his expression shifts into one of curiosity. “What’s an IUD?”
Rumi laughs, because apparently demons not only don’t have sex, but they also don’t have any kind of sex education.
“It’s a device that prevents pregnancies.”
Luckily he doesn’t ask her any technical questions, she’s too tired to try and remember the nuances of how it all works. Right now, she needs to get up and clean up, and then get some sleep—preferably here, in Jinu’s arms.
From the way that he starts to protest when she starts to squirm out from beneath him, she doesn’t think he’ll have any objections.
She can go back to the tower tomorrow. Back to reality and her mission. But she knows, now, that they will succeed.
Tomorrow, they will raise the golden Honmoon, and the fight will finally be over.
When she returns to the bed, Jinu immediately pulls her close. She curls against him, a feeling of satisfaction and completion unlike anything she’s ever known settling over her.
Rumi doesn’t know what her future holds after she finally fulfills her purpose. She’s never allowed herself to imagine specifics. All she knows, is that Jinu will be a part of it.
And for now, that is enough.