OWNED BY THE DEVIL
His hands slid down my back, settling at my waist.
The warmth between us ignited, controlled but powerful.
I traced the scar along his jaw gently.
“You will come back to me,” I said.
“I will fight my way through hell if I must.”
We rested our foreheads together, breathing in unison.
Outside, thunder rolled faintly in the distance.
The storm was coming.
But for this moment, wrapped in his arms, I felt no fear.
Only love.
And the quiet understanding that sometimes the night before battle is more terrifying than the battle itself.