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“No. Only if I smell or taste it.”

I knew it. I knew something like this would happen eventually.Of course, with her rotten luck, it had to ruin something that had been enjoyable for both of them.

Her worries were proven right.

Since his orbs were white, she tried to muster up a reassuring smile – it probably came across as a grimace.

“H-how long can you hold your breath for?”

“A while.”

“A while is good.” She dipped her head back to search for her bag and found it a metre or two away.Too far.“You’re going to hold your breath for me, and then slowly put me down and take out your claws. Okay?”

After a tiny nod in confirmation, he did exactly as instructed, like an obedient boy.

“Don’t breathe until I tell you to,” she said, getting up so she could limp to her bag.

Blood trickled down her leg, and she kept her eyes on the forest in case a Demon picked up on the scent of it. Picking up her bag, she opened it and limped back over to him.

Although his orbs were bright orange as he knelt there, staying still, she didn’t have the time to ease his guilt over it.

“You understand this is really bad, don’t you?” she asked as she pulled a long length of enchanted rope from her bag – thankful she’d remembered to take it from when he’d been hog-tied.

When he nodded in answer, she returned it.

“I need to tie you up, okay? Otherwise, you’ll kill me.”

Right now, she didn’t have a chance in hell of running away. Her leg would slow her down, and there was nothing she could do to stop him from mauling her to death, regardless.

She went behind him, and he rotated his head to keep his sight on her. When she went to kneel and tie his wrists together, he jerked them away from her.

“Not there. Not my arms.”

The fact he could project his voice from his skull was so useful right now.

“Ingram,” she warned.

“I cannot break this rope, yes?”

“Well, yeah. It’s the same one from the guild.”

“I will do anything to get to you, including harm myself.” Emerie paled, hoping he didn’t mean that he would break or rip off his own arm or something. He turned his skull forward, before pointing it downward towards the dirt. “Tie it around my neck.”

She hesitated as her heart clenched. “What if you choke yourself?”

“I cannot die this way. If I remove my own head, you will be safe from me, and I will come back tomorrow. I will heal.”

Gripping the rope tightly, she bit her lip. She didn’t want to do that. It sounded painful and unpleasant.

“Hurry, Emerie. My chest is beginning to hurt.”

With tears dotting her lashes, she coiled the rope around his neck as he lifted his head to expose it for her. When he told her to tighten it until it was digging into his flesh, she did.

She led him to the thickest tree in their vicinity and secured him to it, then he knelt while she dug through her bag again. Although the herbs were dried and probably useless now, she tied the same scent-barrier satchel across his nose holes that she’d put on him a week ago.

Then she backed up, putting space between them while facing him.

His orbs weren’t white in fear or apprehension like she thought they’d be; instead, they were still bright orange.