Gently, I dabbed at her wound and took note of her features. Her face was thin and pale, with a pert nose and full lips. Along one of her eyebrows was a greenish-purple streak, the telltale color of a fading bruise.
Anger roiled up inside of me. My magic tingled along the surface of my skin, threatening to ignite.
Her too-thin body, her scent, the bruising.
It was obvious she lived a hard life, one that disgusted the townsfolk's fragile sensibilities, but that was in the past. She’d be safe now.
As I held pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, I stared down at her face. She really was quite beautiful, and with the proper care, she would be even more so.
I gently trailed the back of my free hand along her jawline. She stirred beneath my touch ever so slightly, but she didn’t wake.
When I was confident I’d stopped the bleeding, I stepped back and checked her over once more. There was no way I could leave her feet like that. She was probably in immense pain.
I looked at the shelf I’d carved into the wall lined with tinctures and selected one specifically for pain relief. After popping off the cork top, I poured the mixture over her feet.
While she slept, I used the sharp tips of my claws to pick out each jagged piece of rock from her soles before bandaging them with clean strips of linen.
I sighed, allowing myself one last look at her before I rose to my feet, sat down by the fire, and waited for her to wake.
Chapter3
My eyes fluttered open, the room around me swirling in warm orange tones and shadows. There was a steady throbbing in my head and my feet felt as if they were on fire.
Everything began to come back to me. Father Aldous. The bite of the cold against my skin. The rush of air as I flew toward the cavern floor. The panic, the pain, and then, the darkness.
The demon.
The low hum of a familiar song filtered into my ears as a large figure moved from out of the corner of my vision.
“Ah, she wakes.” The shadow stood in front of me, his voice deep and rumbling. A set of piercing golden eyes, with pupils reminiscent of a cat’s, peered down at me and seemed to sear into the depths of my soul. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I blinked rapidly, trying desperately to clear my vision. When I could finally see, I panicked at the sight in front of me.
He was easily six feet tall, with two horns sprouting from the top of his head. He was even taller if you considered the length of his unbroken horn. His skin was crimson in color, like the hot embers of a fire, and heat seemed to resonate from his body.
I tried to dart away from him, but my head started pounding the moment I moved.
“Get away from me!” I gasped, clutching my head in agony. “Please don’t hurt me!”
He sat down on the bed and held his clawed hands up in a submissive gesture. “Truly, I mean you no harm. I’m trying to help you. Look at your feet if you don’t believe me.”
When my head stopped spinning, I hugged my knees and glanced down at my feet. Clean strips of linen were expertly wrapped around them–as if someone had bandaged them.
I gave him a sideways glance from where I was huddled on the bed. “Y-you did this?” My voice was a hoarse whisper from all the screaming I’d been doing as of late.
Firelight reflected off of his face and his lips parted in a kind smile. “Yes. I picked out each piece of stone, cleaned them with a tincture, and bandaged you up. You fell in the tunnel and got a nasty cut on your head, but I think it’ll heal fine without stitching. Your hairline should hide any scar that’s left behind.”
My hand drifted up toward my forehead and I winced when my fingers ran over the crusty edges of the wound.
“Careful. Don’t want to bust it open again,” he said in that baritone voice of his as he smiled down at me.
I studied him for a moment in disbelief. If he was the demon, he didn’t seem all that threatening. Sure, he looked different than any man I’d seen before, but he’d already shown me more kindness than I’d experienced from the townsfolk in all my twenty years.
“Would you like some water?” he asked before rising from the bed.
When he stood, I admired his shirtless form and the way the glow of the fire illuminated the smooth planes of muscle covering his body. His shiny black hair was woven into a tight braid that hung down past his shoulders. A piece of fur–almost like a short skirt–covered his lower half. Peeking out from beneath the skirt was a long tail, topped with a fuzzy tuft of black hair, that swayed back and forth behind him.
My gaze slowly tracked up his body to his face, and he let out a warm laugh. “I asked if you’d like some water, little human.”
