Chapter Seventeen

Vale

T he smell of hairspray and nervous excitement hangs thick in the air as I step out of the car onto the red carpet. For months, I've dreamed of this moment—my big Hollywood premiere. But now, without Coco by my side, it feels hollow.

I almost bailed this morning. The thought of celebrating without her made my chest ache. But this isn't just about me. The crew, my co-stars, they all deserve recognition. So I sucked it up, dusted off an old suit that hangs a little loose (Erin’s stylists would have a fit), and showed up.

The second my feet hit the plush red carpet; chaos erupts.

"Vale! Vale! Over here! Smile for the camera!"

A sea of faces and flashing bulbs assaults my senses. I've been looking forward to this? What a joke. I've never felt so overstimulated and bored at the same time. The giant backdrop plastered with Aria's face and mine looms behind us like some surreal dream. Being on this side of the velvet rope is a far cry from what I'd imagined.

Just when I think I might bolt, a production assistant ushers me toward the first interviewer—a blonde human squeezed into a dress that sparkles like faerie dust.

"And here he is, Khastor Duskfyre himself!" Her smile is so bright and bleached, it’s almost as blinding as the flash photography. "Vale, you've caused quite a stir these past few months. Your secret life, the recent exposé in Fae she's not such a stickler for rules after all.

She reaches for my hand, her touch sending sparks through my skin. I can see her intention: to slide the makeshift ring onto my wedding finger as a playful gesture. But I have a better idea. Slowly, I bow my head forward, bringing my horns level with her eyes.

With a tenderness that nearly undoes me, Coco gently slides the monitor back onto my horn. The familiar weight settles into place, but this time, it doesn't feel like a shackle. It feels like coming home.

"You owe me a real ring," I tease, my voice husky with emotion. "But this'll do for now."

Coco rolls her eyes in that adorably exasperated way of hers, but her smile is radiant enough to outshine all of Hollywood's glitz and glamour. Unable to resist, I gently cup her chin with my fingers, marveling at how perfectly she fits in my hand, and lean in to steal another kiss from my fake wife—real fiancée? We’ll hash out the details later—

Mariah's shrill yapping pierces the air as the door swings open. Coco breaks away with a startled gasp, and I whirl around, a surge of protective fire rushes to my fingertips, ready to burn whoever is foolish enough to interrupt this perfect moment.

My eyes lock onto a middle-aged demon, wearing a bespoke, fitted suit. I recognize him from the red carpet earlier—not an actor, but someone who exudes power. The memory of assistants buzzing around him on the red carpet like worker bees to their queen confirms my suspicion: He's an exec.

"Oh, sorry—” He moves to leave but pauses once he locks eyes with me. “Vale! Just the demon I was looking for. Got a minute to chat?" His voice carries the easy confidence of someone used to getting what he wants .

I glance at Coco, torn. The press of her warm body against mine feels too precious to interrupt, and the slight tightening in my pants reminds me we're far from finished.

Coco turns to the demon with a friendly smile, waving a dismissive hand at me. She steps out of my arms, much to my dismay. "Ignore the drama queen. He'll live." Her words are light, but I feel the gentle squeeze of her hand on mine, reassuring me she's not going anywhere.

The demon gives Coco a thankful nod before turning back to me. "I caught the end of your interview. That Quantum cliffhanger was brutal. Such a shame they killed it. I'd love to hear more about reviving it."

"Right?!" Coco's excitement bursts forth, her eyes lighting up with that familiar Quantum-induced sparkle. But then realization dawns, and her gaze flicks to me, curiosity and a hint of suspicion evident in her features. "So, there is a new Quantum project?"

My heart races. This is it—the moment of truth. "We've got some things in the works.” I turn to the executive, fighting to keep my voice steady. “What do you want to know?”

"Everything. I'd like to throw my hat in the ring as a producer."

Excitement bubbles up in my chest, threatening to boil over, but I force my features to remain neutral. Thank you, Erin, for teaching me that boardroom tactic. "This isn't some soulless money-hungry franchise. We're pouring our hearts into this. You in it for the right reasons? "

A pleased grin spreads across the demon's face. "Renegades don't follow rules, we make them."

The air between us crackles with potential. "A true fan. Welcome aboard, fellow star traveler." We clasp forearms, a demon gesture of good will that promises the deal we’ll be making in the future, once we’ve hashed out all the details.

"Fantastic! By the way, you were my favorite Thraxxius. Shame your stint was cut short."

I watch with a mixture of amusement and trepidation as Coco's head whips between me and our new producer. Her mouth opens and closes, reminding me of a fish out of water. "What did he just say?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, louder, to the demon: "Repeat what you just said."

The demon glances at me, unsure if he accidentally overstepped. "He's my favorite Thraxxius?" he repeats cautiously.

Slowly, Coco's eyes return to mine. I can almost hear the neurons misfiring in her head, trying to reconcile the Vale she knows with the Thraxxius she's seen on screen. Her face goes slack, and I wonder if we've accidentally short-circuited that beautiful brain of hers.

I offer her a nervous smile as she continues to stare, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Oh my God. Oh my God," she wheezes, leaning forward.

"Coco? Deep breaths, sweetheart," I say, rubbing her back as she hyperventilates.

"Say the thing. The Thraxxius thing," she manages between gasps.

I clear my throat, pushing aside my confusion to channel Thraxxius. "Time bends, but honor stands?" It comes out more Vale than Thraxxius, but it seems to do the trick.

Coco straightens, her face almost as white as her dress. I keep my hand on her lower back, ready to catch her if she faints. "You’re the unknown actor who played Thraxxius in the last season . . . I'm married to Thraxxius?" she whispers, more to herself than anyone else.

I bite back a laugh, fighting the urge to correct her. She’s not married to Thraxxius yet. "But you love me for me, right?" I can't keep the smile from my voice.

Suddenly, Coco's demeanor shifts. She turns to our bewildered producer, a feral look in her eyes. "Get out. Now," she says, her voice tight with . . . something. Desire? Shock? Both?

"Is everything okay?" the demon asks, his black eyes darting between us.

"I mean this in the kindest way possible: Please get the fuck out. Leave before you witness something you can't unsee.” Coco points her finger at the door.

Before I can process what's happening, she's pushing me towards the couch. Her touch sends electricity through my body, and as she shoves me into a seated position, the sudden scent of her arousal floods my senses. I have to bite back a groan as that delicious floral scent hits me .

I mouth a quick 'sorry' to the demon, but he just chuckles, shaking his head. I’m sure the new release of sex hormones in the air is the only explanation he needs. "I'll be in touch," he says, closing the door behind him.

And then . . . Coco goes wild.

“You didn’t answer my question—” I manage, but she silences my words as she jumps into my lap, pinning my hips down with her legs. We can have this conversation after she fucks me . . . or kills me, if that feral look in her eye is any indication.

Even with murder on the mind, my body instinctively responds to her aggression, my erection straining against the seam of my pants. The air between us crackles with electricity as Coco reaches for me, her fingers deftly unbuckling my belt in record time. Before she can free me, I gently stop her, suddenly aware of our audience.

"Hey, not in front of the rat." I gesture towards Mariah, who’d given up searching for treats and was now using Coco’s purse as a bed.

With a frustrated huff, Coco forces my arms out of my jacket and tosses it across the room. It lands directly on Mariah, covering her like a blanket. Mariah snorts indignantly, but eventually she settles down, letting out a sleepy little yawn.

Coco’s wild gaze locks onto mine, igniting a fire deep within me. "Vale, I know I said be yourself, but right now, I need Thraxxius. Do you by chance have a replica helmet at home—you know what? We’ll worry about that later."

My heart races at her words. The line between Vale and Thraxxius blurs as desire courses through me. She wraps her hand around the base of my cock and gives me one, short stroke, as far as she can go in the tight confines of my briefs. Her touch is electric, sending waves of pleasure radiating through my body. She strokes me again, and I can't help the groan that escapes my lips. Not wanting to waste any more precious time, she shoves my pants down enough to free my throbbing erection.

Time seems to stand still as Coco pushes up to her knees and jerks her panties to the side, positioning herself above me. The rustle of fabric, the warmth of her skin, the intoxicating scent of her arousal—every sensation is heightened.

With slow, deliberate movement, she lowers herself onto me. Before I can think to ask if she’s wet enough to take me, she’s already taking me inside—inch by agonizing inch. As we join, the feeling of completeness overwhelms me. It's more than physical; it's as if a missing piece of my soul has finally clicked into place. Every ridge of my shaft strains against her inner walls, stretching her deliciously as she lets gravity pull her down my length. Her breasts come close to my face as she makes her descent, the top of her dress riding so low, the dusky pink of her areolae peeks over the edge.

“Fuck,” I groan in her ear. Her tightness grips me like a vise; her silky, delicious heat almost too much to bear .

We both let out a sigh of relief once she reaches the hilt, my cock fully seated inside her. The intensity grows as she slowly finds her rhythm, her movements jerky and unsure at first until she finds her pace as she rises and falls on my cock.

Our movements are a perfect dance, each thrust and caress building towards something transcendent. I'm lost in the moment, drunk on the taste of her skin, the soft moans of her pleasure. I pull on the top of her dress, her straining breasts popping free with just a little help. Coco’s sighs as the cold hair hits her sensitive nipples; her breasts jiggling in my face as she bounces.

When her steady movements grow frantic, her breaths coming out in ragged gasps, I know she’s close. Just as she’s about to tumble over the edge, I snatch her hand. I can’t help myself—I kiss her fingertips like I’m sealing a pact. Then, my heart pounding like a war drum, I guide those perfect fingers to one of my horns.

Flames and ashes, the intimacy of the moment almost undoes us both. Coco’s wide-eyed gaze locks with mine, her breath catching. Something passes between us, a shared feeling deeper than words could ever describe.

As she reaches her peak, I'm in awe of her beauty. The flush on her cheeks, the arch of her back, the way she bites back a cry—it's the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen. Her orgasm claims her like a violent tidal wave, her muscles contracting around my shaft in rapid pulses as she cries into my neck. Before she’s even finished riding the aftershocks, I’m on my feet with Coco balanced perfectly in my arms.

“Where are we going?” she mumbles into my shoulder, too relaxed to do much else.

Without slipping out of her, I carry her across the room. Bracing her against the wall, I lift up her thigh and thrust in, burying myself even deeper with the new angle. Her legs tighten around my waist, her soft whimpers filling my ears as I pound into her.

As I fuck her against the wall, I'm struck by how right this feels. It's not just about physical pleasure; it's about connection, vulnerability, trust. As I lose myself in her, the boundaries between Vale and Thraxxius, between actor and character, between fantasy and reality, all fade away. There's only us, this moment, this feeling of coming home.

Afterwards, as we settle onto the couch, a profound sense of peace washes over me. Coco's warmth in my arms, the steady rhythm of her breathing, it's everything I never knew I needed. As we cuddle under my suit jacket, Coco pressed against my chest, I'm overcome with emotion.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the premiere?” she asks softly, kissing my neck. I nod.

"I love you, little wife," I whisper, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

“I love you too, Thraxxius.” Her response makes me chuckle. Her lips spread into a wry smile that lets me know she’s teasing. “I mean Vale,” she corrects, snuggling deeper into my chest with a contented sigh. In this moment, I don't care if she sees me as Vale or Thraxxius because I know she sees me—the real me. I'm simply hers, wholly and completely. Small horns and all.