“Fight. Fight. Fight.”

Enough. Thane cupped Elin’s cheeks and forced her attention to turn to him. “Are you having fun?”

“Dude! So much!” She threaded her fingers through his hair, and just like that, the rest of the world faded from his awareness. “What about you?”

“Now I am.” In her presence, he felt lighter, even free, as if invisible chains had at last fallen away from him.

“Wait till you see the rooms,” she said, twirling strands of his hair. “You’re going to love them so hard, you’ll probably make a baby together.”

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“I am.” She kissed his chin and beamed up at him. “It’s like I ordered you from a catalog. Like I said, I’ll take that gorgeous face, and that sexy body, now add a dash of sweetness and a smidgen of protectiveness, and, okay, yeah, just go ahead and dip him in raging lust.”

He grinned. “There are no changes you would make to me?”

“Nope. Not a single one.”

“So I’m perfect?”

“For me,” she whispered, a ragged edge to her tone. “You’re perfect for me. But what about you? Would you change something about me?”

Reeling from her admission, he said, “You are flawless.” Except for your expiration date. He frowned at the unwelcome thought.

Must do something. Soon.

Problem was, he was still without a solution. All he knew was that he wouldn’t be killing her in an attempt for immortal regeneration.

He thought about the two males in the Army of Disgrace with human wives.

Zacharel’s woman, Annabelle, had been marked by a demon as a teenager, part of her soul stolen. The warrior had had to cleanse the evil and patch her soul with a piece of his own, twining their life spans.

That wasn’t feasible with Elin. Her soul was intact. Koldo’s woman had bonded to the River of Life, becoming a Sent One.

No one knew how she’d initiated the bonding.

Perhaps Thane would supply Elin with a fresh vial of the Water every day. At the very least, it would slow her aging.

Under Germanus’s reign, all Sent Ones had been forced to endure a severe whipping and give up something beloved to acquire a single vial of the Water. Now, Clerici offered the Water freely, but there was a line of Sent Ones waiting to approach the shore, and it was at least three years long, making it even more difficult to get.

Perhaps someone could be bribed to give up a space at the front of the line.

“I have a surprise for you,” Elin said, returning his attention to her. “The most wonderful, amazing surprise in the history of...ever.”

One of his brows rose in question. “Is it you, naked in my bed?”

“No. It’s better.”

“There is nothing better than that.”

* * *

I’VE GOT A new life goal, Elin thought. Thane had stepped into the bar, and in a flash of intuition, she’d known she’d been born to make him happy. Not just to help him heal. Not just to amuse and delight him. But to usher in true happiness.

“Take me to the suite,” she whispered, and nibbled on his earlobe. “I’ll show you.”

He stalked forward, dragging her with him. Girls moaned about losing “the best worst bartender of all time” and it made her eyes a wee bit misty. She was accepted here, even liked, and totally appreciated for her amazing talents.

“You guys come, too,” she called over her shoulder, pinning Bjorn and Xerxes with an I-mean-business stare. “You have to see this.”

They blinked in surprise but followed.

“Don’t forget to tell me the verdict,” Anya called.

Elin flashed her a thumbs-up.

Inside the suite, trepidation nearly got the better of her, but she pointed to the far wall. “There.”

Thane looked, tensed. His expression gave nothing away.

Every nerve in her body suddenly felt exposed, raw.

“Well,” she said, glancing over Bjorn and Xerxes. They were just as unreadable. “What do you think?”

Silence.

Not even crickets dared chirp.

She peered at the painting Anya had brought, trying to see the artwork as the warriors must. It was a nearly life-size canvas, with Thane in the center, and Bjorn and Xerxes flanking him. A position she’d seen firsthand. Thane’s wings were stretched out behind the others, and it was difficult to tell where his ended and theirs began, because theirs were flared, as well. All three males were weaponless, but then, they didn’t need weapons. They were weapons.

They were shirtless, their fierce muscles on display, their skin splattered with spots of crimson. Unfortunately, they wore pants. The material was white and kind of loose, like the bottom of a robe. Behind them was absolute destruction. Blood dripped. The bodies of demons lay in pieces.

“If you don’t like it—” she said.

“I don’t like it,” Thane interjected.

Oh. Her shoulders drooped. She’d been so certain he’d go gaga, the way she had. The violent images had barely even registered.

“I love it,” he added.

Oh! Such relief. “I had a few others made, and—”

“Where?” he rushed out. “I want to see.”

“Your room.”

He dragged forward and shouldered his way inside. Then he gaped. This time, changes were everywhere. From the massive sleigh bed, to the gold-inlaid dresser, to the nightstands made entirely from jade. The walls were peppered with photographed portraits of, well, her.

Embarrassment heated her cheeks as Bjorn and Xerxes filed in behind her, determined to see what else she’d done.

Anya had taken one look at her and snapped her fingers. “I know just the thing,” she’d said, and commanded Bellorie to fetch her Canon. Then she’d proceeded to direct Elin to “make love to the camera”...“make hate to the camera”...“make a thousand babies with the camera.” Yeah. Weirdest twenty minutes ever.

But Elin had grinned and posed, and scowled and posed, and laughed and posed. And now, the photos of her face and all its many emotions stared at her from every direction of the room.

“This...” Thane said, his voice thick with...what?

“I can take them down.”

“No!” he growled. Then more softly repeated, “No. These are even better than the painting. I’ll never want to leave the room.”