Page 43 of Cuddly Demon

Azazel dives deep beneath the surface and brings up an oyster with a pearl inside. He holds it out to me, and I laugh as I take it, feeling its smooth texture in my hands.

Onyx lumbers out of Azazel's hut and spots us. "I'd better not miss out on the fun!"

Onyx rips off his clothes, then plunges into the sea with us. We swim together, laughing and playing like children.

For the first time in so long, I feel free, happy, and unburdened.

The weight of the world lifts from my shoulders.

I swim toward Onyx and wrap my arms around my waist. "Your brother... has altered my perception of Hell. He even told me about weddings."

Onyx waggles his eyebrows. "You're ready to marry me after all, eh?"

My cheeks flush pink as I lean in, my lips rubbing against his. "One day at a time."

"I like the way you think."

We swim back to shore and lay out on the beach, watching the stars glisten in the sky.

EIGHTEEN

ONYX

I chop fresh oregano, determined to create the best authentic Etruscan dish I can for my beautiful boy. I promised I'd cook for him in the dorm kitchen many weeks ago, and now, I'm fulfilling that promise.

"Let's see," I mutter, grabbing the goat's cheese. "I'll need to use the oven to toast the rustic bread. I hope I don't burn Saint's dorm down."

Cooking has come a long way from what I'm used to. My brother's beach fire is more suited to my needs, but now that we're back in New York, I've got to get with the times.

I'm making Moretum, a type of cheese spread made from sheep's milk cheese, garlic, and herbs like basil, mint, and oregano. The cheese and garlic are mashed together in a mortar and pestle, and then I'll add herbs to the mixture, ground and mashed together.

The resulting spread was enjoyed as a condiment or as a topping on bread. My Etruscan friends would've eaten this as part of their daily diet back in the day, and I'm excited to taste it again.

Saint wanders into the communal kitchen, freshly clean from his shower. "Something smells delicious."

I turn to him... and forget how to think. Christ, he's gorgeous. His hair is still damp from the shower, and drops of water glisten on his bare cheeks. He's wearing a pair of shorts that hug his hips perfectly, showing off his toned legs.

"Hey," I manage to say, trying to keep my cool. "I'm making Moretum, an Etruscan cheese spread. Want to try some?"

Saint nods eagerly, and I feel a warm sense of satisfaction. It's always nice to share a part of my culture with someone I care about.

I hand him a slice of the bread, and he spreads some of the Moretum on top. He takes a bite and his eyes widen in surprise. "This is incredible."

I can't help but grin. "I'm glad you like it."

Saint chews eagerly. "It tastes so much healthier than what I usually eat for dinner."

"I'm also whipping up steaks." I smirk devilishly. "Tell me how you like yours."

"I like it medium-rare," Saint replies, with a small smile.

"Medium-rare it is."

I season the steaks with salt, pepper, and a blend of herbs before placing them on the grill. The smell of sizzling meat and herbs fills the air, and I can feel my stomach growling with anticipation.

While the steaks cook, I pour us both a glass of red wine. Saint takes a sip and smiles. "This is good. What is it?"

"It's a Chianti," I reply, pouring myself a glass. "It's one of my new favorites."