Page 65
Story: To Hunt a Demon King
Carnon scoffed. “We are not imposing,” he said, shooting Herne an annoyed look. “He just has too many opinions about things he can’t possibly understand.”
“I’m…missing something, aren’t I?” I asked Cerridwen, who nodded at me sympathetically.
“It’s nothing,” said Carnon, with a final glare at Herne. “Come see who else is here.” Carnon led me by the hand he was still holding into a small sitting room, where a giant brown wolf was taking up most of the floor.
“Akela,” I exclaimed. The wolf raised his head, studying me for a moment before lolling out his great tongue as if to say, “Yes, I am here. You may pet me now.” I laughed, running to put my arms around his neck and bury my face in his soft fur. He whined a little, licking my arm wetly. I think he was happy to see me, too.
“She has the wolf under her spell, too?” Herne growled. He had followed us out of the kitchen and was leaning against the doorframe, watching me suspiciously, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“I didn’t cast any spell, I swear it,” I said, throwing a confused look at Herne, then glancing to Carnon for some kind of explanation.
“Ha,” Herne scoffed.
“Ignore him,” Carnon said, crouching down next to me and tilting my chin up to look at him. He brushed a thumb over my jaw and smiled tenderly. “How are you?”
“Well,” I said, blushing furiously at the memory of what we had done upstairs.
Carnon smirked, brushing his lips over mine in the ghost of a kiss. “I can smell me on your skin,” he rumbled, brushing his nose against mine and speaking quietly so that Herne didn’t overhear. “I like it.”
“Come and eat first,” Cerridwen called from the kitchen. “Give the poor girl a break from your carnal desires.”
I blushed deeper, turning what I was sure was a bright crimson. “They know?” I hissed, letting Carnon help me to my feet. “You told them?”
“I didn’t have to,” Carnon replied quietly, bending to whisper into my ear. “You were quite loud.”
“Goddess above,” I groaned, blushing again and turning to hide my face in his shoulder. He chuckled, dropping a kiss atop my head.
“Let them hear, Red,” he said, tilting my face up to his again. “I want the whole city to hear you scream my name. To know you’re mine.” My stomach flipped, and warmth pooled low as he brushed a kiss over my lips. This man would be the death of me.
I let Carnon lead me back to the kitchen, where Cerridwen was pouring something warm into wooden bowls. Herne was already eating angrily, stew dripping down his bushy beard as he scowled.
“Really?” Cerridwen sighed exasperatedly at her mate. “We have company.” Herne growled, continuing to eat like a wild animal, and Cerridwen rolled her eyes. Carnon chuckled, accepting a spoon from Cerridwen and digging into whatever she had cooked. It was warm and spicy, and it seemed to heat me from my toes to my head.
“Now, Elara,” Cerridwen said. “Tell us about your trip. Uneventful, I hope?”
I glanced at Carnon for confirmation that it was safe enough to discuss our exploits, but he just looked at me with raised brows.
“Mostly,” I said. “We had a little trouble with some rusalka and a leshy, but Akela was a very effective guardian.” Herne grunted at this, but Cerridwen smiled.
“And I hear you met the Hag,” she said, sitting down to eat her own meal. “How is the old bat?”
“Vigorous and demanding as ever,” Carnon said, making me smile a little at the memory of the old hedge witch.
“And…” Cerridwen hesitated, looking at Carnon before continuing. “You are a witch?” I glanced at him too, but he just shrugged.
“Yes,” I confirmed. “But I don’t think I can go back to the Witchlands.”
“Because of the demon magic?” Cerridwen asked. I nodded. “Can you show me?” she asked again, holding out a round thing that looked like some sort of fruit. I looked at it confused, and she smiled.
“It’s a mango,” she said. “We get them imported from the coast.”
“It smells nice,” I said, feeling a little sad that I would have to wither the sweet smelling fruit. “But if you insist.”
I put down my spoon and focused, tapping on the dark, shadowy thing in my gut that reveled in death, and pulling it forward. The mango withered in my hands, turning brown and brittle.
“Holy Gods,” Cerridwen said, looking in wonder at Carnon.
He gave her a curt nod, then turned to me. “Now reverse it,” he said,raising an expectant brow. I sighed, turning my attention back to the fruit. I wasn’t sure how this would help me, but I was a guest. I didn’t think it would be polite to hide my magic from my hosts.
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