Page 13 of The Demon’s Collar (The Bard’s Demon #1)

Ero: Not Friends, Not Lovers, But a Third Worse Thing

I woke in his arms.

For a moment, it was nice. Warm. Comfortable. Secure. These were feelings I’d learned not to take for granted in my life on the road. B?k’s powerful arms formed a cage across my chest that I could have imagined being happy to live inside.

And then…the night before came flooding back.

You would have been thrilled to suck my cock to save your life.

My cheeks blazed. And the words didn’t stop there. Humiliation built with each stinging memory. Each of his filthy—accurate—accusations.

Fuck.

B?k’s breathing remained heavy and even as I deftly extracted myself from his grip.

The frigid air taunted me with its emptiness.

Did I want to crawl back into him and forget everything?

Maybe. But I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to face his mocking smile.

Didn’t want to hear what fresh, cutting things he would say when he saw my contentment.

Definitely didn’t want to be foolish enough to mistake what any of this was and hope for?—

What?

A deep, familiar ache blossomed in my chest.

What did I hope for? A friend? A lover? Someone who would care if I got hurt?

That’s what I’d always wanted. It’s why I’d joined that doomed adventuring party to find a book that would point me to my father and maybe, if the Fates smiled on me, to a sister or a grandmother or…

just or . Someone whose desire to see my face had nothing to do with the songs I could play or the hurts I could soothe.

I reeled with that longing.

Haz’s saggy left. I needed fresh air and one hundred percent less proximity to the demon I’d allowed to?—

A different memory flashed at that half-thought. A forked tongue. The certainty that if he didn’t stop, I would die, and that if he did stop, I would also die but much less happily.

Double fuck.

I shoved out of the tent and stumbled into a flurry of light and people and activity, the camp already in full swing. It was exactly the splash of cold water I needed.

As I staggered toward the main firepit in search of breakfast, I gleaned from snippets of conversation that we were to mobilize around midday.

I failed to find food, but I spotted Brü and started for him, figuring some task could use doing and that he could point me toward it. A soft hand caught my elbow before I reached him.

I was startled not just by the touch but by the feeling that accompanied it.

Like I was being caressed by water . I turned to the woman—a willowy blonde with kind eyes and a holy necklace that looked like an ice dagger with wisps of frost billowing from it.

Was she an elemental? Could elementals even look so…

human? I stared dumbfounded, trying to figure her out instead of doing a normal thing like saying hello .

Her smile told me this happened often.

“Hullo, Ero,” she said softly. “Do you mind if I heal you?”

I narrowed my eyes. If I were hurt, I could heal myself. I didn’t?—

The soreness hit all at once. My muscles screamed.

My wrists burned. And that was to say nothing of the raw sensitivity between my legs.

The shock of it was almost worse than the pain.

How had I not felt any of it before? Had B?k worked some demon sorcery to keep it at bay?

Further, how had this woman known when I hadn’t?

“It’s no trouble,” she said. “Brü asked me to find you.”

“Um…sure?” I said. Because while I could heal myself, her eyes were liquid gold and eager to please, and I didn’t need to expend the energy if she was willing. Plus? I was curious. And—I realized with a start—I actually trusted Brü.

My curiosity was handsomely rewarded. The heal washed over me, a warm ocean spray lapping against my skin with a cold undertow that drew the pain away.

It’d been so, so long since I’d received anyone else’s magic this way.

Not since I was a child. And never quite like this.

It ate away the strain in my whole body, gently strengthening as it went.

I groaned.

The dimple on the woman’s pale cheek deepened as another wave came stronger than the last. Her fingers trailed up my arm and over my shoulder. The sensation cascaded down my back like a billowing cloak. But her fingers froze when they reached my clavicle. The comforting wave receded abruptly .

I opened my eyes and saw her troubled gaze trained on my collar.

Somehow, this embarrassed me. Like I’d chosen the wrong accessory for an event.

Her eyes, so open and friendly before, chilled. “He really used it.” She sounded appalled but not surprised.

When our eyes locked again, I steeled myself. I knew how fast “friendly” could turn to something else. To mean, superior, judgemental.

Only she didn’t look any of those things. Just contemplative.

“If you need—” she started.

“She doesn’t,” a gravelly, bored, too-familiar voice interrupted.

B?k’s hand fell possessively on my shoulder from behind. And now, whatever the outcome of my new almost-friend’s moment of contemplation might have been, it curdled and hardened into something I could read quite clearly. Hatred.

“B?k,” she said through clenched teeth.

“ Aelith ,” he bit out in return.

Each had a hand on me. And suddenly it was too much.

I took an abrupt step aside. I ought to have thanked Aelith for the heal.

I felt better than I had any right to after last night.

Only I didn’t want to squander the refreshed energy on a standoff in which Aelith might accuse B?k of cruelty and B?k might, in turn, reveal my debauched desires…

at which point, I could never show my face to anyone in this faction again.

“Brü!” I called. “What needs to be done before we go?”

To Brü’s credit, though he was too far away to have witnessed the particulars of our exchange, he didn’t miss a beat upon seeing the three of us and hearing my desperation. Good old Brü .

“Gather your tent and tack your horse,” he ordered. “Then listen for my call. We ride out two hours before the others to scout, so don’t forget to eat.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

And then, coward that I was, I ran into my tent and let the flap fall behind me without looking back.

I never sought food. I stayed in my tent for as long as I could stand it, then ducked out as the time to leave approached—refusing to look around in case B?k or Brü or Aelith happened to be near. I tacked the horse Brü had assigned me and gave her little scratches and loaded her with my things.

When Brü’s muster call rang out, I steeled myself and walked to my probable doom.

B?k wasn’t there.

Thank Haz for small favors.

Aelith slipped into the circle to kiss Brü while we assembled. She did so without show and without embarrassment. Then she came to me.

“Here,” she said, holding out a bundle. “I didn’t see you at the fire.”

Her offering included bread and jerky with a steaming skin of what smelled like lamb stew, all wrapped in a woven travel net.

Saliva pooled in my mouth—but a sharp doubt nagged at me, too.

Why was she being nice? Because Brü asked her to?

Why would Brü ask her to? Because I’d “fixed” B?k?

Some internal ledger burned to know whom I owed for what.

“Thank you,” I said uncertainly.

“Safe ride,” she answered with a serene smile as she bounced away.

And…B?k never showed.

We rode out, pretending we didn’t have questions.

Except for Fl?r, who marveled in exaggerated tones how nice it felt to ride in this exact company without, for example, a cloud of nasty dark energy around to block out the sun.

I rolled my eyes. Not that I didn’t agree with him.

I did for once. I just hated him more than I wanted to bond over our mutual love of B?k-free space.

The ride was uneventful, though long. Aelith’s gifts became necessities by our seventh hour in the saddle.

I drained the stew and savored the last crusts of bread as we finally halted atop the chain of hills that would serve as our new camp.

It was a suitable spot. We were exposed—but anything that approached would be visible for at least half an hour before it reached us.

Brü talked us through the plan. A mid-sized party would join us later that night, with the rest of the train rejoining by tomorrow evening.

Once the full company had gotten a night of sleep and a meal, we would repeat our inchworm progress—this time with a different scouting party taking the lead and us traveling with the forty or so factionites in the second wave.

I reached for my tent, but Brü paused as he passed. “If you wouldn’t mind, a song of vigilance and rest would go a long way.”

It was an odd request. Usually, one would play for either vigilance or rest—but this sort of discordant melody was exactly my niche, and I was surprised Brü had both noticed and chosen to encourage that. I nodded, and he was on to Fl?r with orders to gather firewood.

I wanted to ask about B?k—just to ensure it was safe to play my lute. But I hadn’t seen him all day, and I knew it would be hours before either of the lagging parties neared, so I didn’t bother.

The songs poured out of me, easier with each passing moment and every passing smile.

I sang while Fl?r built a fire and while the tents rose—some for sleep, others for gathering because the breeze hinted at rain.

I loved rain. The promise and threat of it teased my song into something so rich that before I knew it, Brü stood over me with a drunk, heady smile.

“I think that’s enough, or we’ll have them jousting in their sleep.

Thank you, Ero. Play whatever you like now. ”

And I did. More hours passed in bliss. Someone cooked. Someone opened a leftover keg of mead. When I needed breaks, I started popular tavern ballads and let the others carry them through.