My gaze dropped to my left hand.

The shimmery diamond on my ring finger drew some major attention. Some days when the light hit it the right way, it would literally dazzle me into staring at it for several minutes.

We were going to get married, the whole deal—white gown, ceremony, bridesmaids and groomsmen, reception, DJ, and most importantly, the wedding cake. For real this time, under our legit names. The fake IDs were left behind, though I kind of missed them a little.

Kaidan Rowe was a Hottie McHotters.

But General Eaton had kept his promise. The ARP—Alien Registration Program—did not affect us, and as of today, no one had recognized either of us from the brief time the Vegas videos had been up on the internet.

The ARP was General Eaton’s and the government’s answer to weeding out any Luxen and Origins who may be flying the unfriendly skies. All Luxen, hybrids, Origins, and Arum were required to register—all except us. Some days I wondered if that would change, and it always caused knots of unease to form in my belly.

Now that the alien was really out of the bag, and with all the terrible things the invading Luxen had done, aliens weren’t all that . . . accepted in communities. Every day, there was something in the news about an attack on a suspected Luxen or colony. Many innocent Luxen had been injured in the past months and some . . . they’d been killed just because of what they were.

That was scary, knowing that someone you saw every day, who thought you were a nice and normal human, could turn on you so quickly once he or she realized that wasn’t what you were. And God forbid if the general populace learned how onyx and diamond, or even a low-dose Taser, could affect us.

Things weren’t easy or perfect, and the future seemed shaky at times, but life wasn’t wrapped up in neat little bows.

I ran my fingers over the multicolored tabs poking out of the tops of the magazines that marked pages with the gowns, decorations, and cakes I liked.

Daemon wasn’t much of a planner when it came to the whole wedding thing, even though it had been his idea, but whenever I dragged out one of those thick magazines, he didn’t moan and complain as I thumbed through it.

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Although he seemed disturbingly fascinated with the selection of garter belts.

When I lifted my gaze, he watched me intently, in that all-consuming way that always made me feel like I was stripped bare for him.

A rush of warmth flowed through my veins. I bit down on my lip as I glanced at the clock on the wall.

“We have time,” Daemon said, voice rough as sandpaper.

I arched my brow even as my heart skipped a beat. “Time for what?”

“Uh-huh. Don’t play coy with me.” He walked around my abandoned chair, causing my stomach to dip in the most pleasant way as he stalked toward me. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Do not.” I took a step back, my toes digging into the carpet.

“Do too,” he murmured, one side of his lips kicking up.

“That’s just your overactive ego and your wishful thinking talking.”

Dark eyebrows rose. “Is that so, Kitten?”

Fighting a grin, I nodded as I glanced at the clock again. We so had time. I shrugged.

Challenge flared, deepening the hue of his eyes to a forest green, and a burst of excitement went off inside me like a firecracker. “I think I can prove that’s not the case.”

“Whatever.”

In the blink of an eye, Daemon was in front of me. I started to yell at him, because I still hated that, but he captured my mouth in a searing kiss that went straight to my knees.

“All I need is ten minutes,” he said, voice gruff.

“What happened to only needing two minutes?”

Daemon chuckled as he reached down, caught the hem of my shirt, and tugged it over my head. “Well, what I plan to do is going to take a little longer than that.”

He was remarkably skilled at taking my clothes off in record time. Before I knew it, I was standing there, feeling a wee bit exposed.

Daemon stepped back, as if he was admiring his handiwork. “If I haven’t told you this before . . .” He dragged his gaze up, lingering on my chest until it felt like a physical touch. “I want you. I’ll always want you.”

“Always?” I whispered.

He stepped forward again, his hands closing around my arms as he lowered his head, brushing his lips along the curve of my cheek. “Always.”

My chest rose, grazing his. The sensation rocked me. He made a deep sound in the back of his throat that twisted up my insides. He kissed me again as his hands skimmed down my arms to settle around my waist. I shivered, and at this rate, I didn’t think he’d even need two minutes.

Daemon lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Not once did he break the kiss, and by the time my back hit the mattress, I was breathless with a thousand different kinds of wants.

“How many minutes do we have left?” he asked as he shucked off his jeans.

I smiled as he climbed over the top of me, and as he leaned down, the edges of his hair tickled my cheek. “I’ve totally forgotten about the minute thing.”

“Wow. Already?” he murmured against my lips and curled an arm around my waist, lifting me up so our bodies were pressed together at all the amazing points. “I’m a little amazed by my own skill.”

A laugh burst out of me, and he caught the sound with a grin and kiss, and then there really wasn’t room for laughing. He trailed a path of hot, tiny kisses across my forehead and then down, way down, where he lingered until he completely erased the whole idea of time and the fact we had things to do.