Page 22 of The Demon’s Collar (The Bard’s Demon #1)

Ero: A Spectacular Failure

“We judge heroes based not on their actions, but on the outcome of those actions. This, of course, ignores the role of the Fates. The same action performed twice might save one village and raze another.” - a fragment of correspondence from a Temple Mother, preserved in the journal of Eroithiel von Dua

“ I need a tent.”

“Good morning to you too,” Brü mused.

For the second day in a row, we met at the fire before most of the camp had woken. I knew I would find him there. He was a creature of habit. All thoughtful and contemplative—probably hoping for solitude, but that was his problem.

I’d only waited for B?k’s breathing to even out before I’d extracted myself. His body—his scent—was a constant reminder, both of what my body craved and what I desperately needed to escape .

I let him ? —

Nope, no. Not going there. I refused to think about any of it. I had a mission. Acquire a tent! I needed to reclaim space where B?k couldn’t literally breathe down my neck. That would be a good first step.

Brü arched a brow. “Didn’t I issue you a tent a few days ago?”

So, it was going to be like that today. A pang of something like gratitude chased my annoyance away, though. At least Brü wasn’t angry about last night.

I shrugged one shoulder. “B?k burned it.”

Brü nodded slowly. “That must be why he told me you wouldn’t need a new one.” He made a face like ‘distinctly minding my business over here, not asking a single question,’ and turned to add logs to the growing fire. But then he tossed me a bone. “I do have extras, though, if you want one.”

I bit my lip. While it was good to know that Brü wouldn’t automatically side with B?k, knowing that B?k had spoken to him about the tent gave me pause. Would something like this violate B?k’s challenge? It would be an awfully ridiculous way to lose if so.

“Tomorrow,” I said, nodding decisively. “Same time?”

Brü made his amusement plain with a tight-lipped smile. He shook his head but didn’t inquire about my logic.

To reward him for not being the worst, I strummed a few energizing chords on my lute.

Mostly because I needed them myself—but also to thank him without being direct about it.

For the potions yesterday, for not berating me this morning, and—of course—for his willingness to ignore B?k’s requests where I was concerned.

The others trickled in. The usual crew. Nigel, the hawk-eyed fighter, with his curved blades and dozens of visible scars that suggested either a long adventuring career or an unlucky one.

Hammond, the brutish barbarian who outsized even B?k—well, B?k at his most human, anyway.

Tavish, a quiet man whose role I’d yet to discern.

And Fl?r…who, I was pleased to note, gave me a wide berth.

“Is B?k traveling with another group today?” I asked Brü hopefully as the time to roll out approached with no sign of him.

“Aw shucks, I was hoping—” Fl?r started, and then cut himself off as B?k appeared at the edge of the fire ring, expression dark as night.

His gaze lingered on Fl?r for an uncomfortably long beat as the rest of us pretended not to watch.

A teeny, tiny part of me hoped they would fight.

They did not.

B?k stalked to me, immediately invading my space. I looked up at him tentatively.

“Did you sleep at all?” he asked. His tone was low—not quite a whisper, but clearly not for the group. Which didn’t stop them from straining to hear every word.

White lies formed and died on my tongue. Yes. A little. Enough.

“No,” I said truthfully, if reluctantly. “But I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll ride with me.”

A faint smirk twisted his lips as my obvious desire to argue rose. Showing great restraint, I ignored the urge and nodded instead. This was going to be unpleasant. But…not unpleasant enough to give up the game.

B?k cupped my cheek and brushed my forehead with a soft kiss before turning to remove my things from my horse.

I froze. Every single person in our party had just witnessed that.

And I realized with a flush of annoyance that that was the point.

Who do you belong to? he’d asked last night.

But when I’d given him the answer he was looking for, he’d accused me of not believing it.

Was this him illustrating the point? Showing that he could do whatever he liked with me—including play pretend in front of others?

I stalked to B?k’s horse and mounted, teeth clenched so tight my jaw hurt. If kneeling for him at the fire hadn’t already destroyed any chance I had of saving face in the faction, this would. But I couldn’t worry about that yet. One B?k-sized problem at a time.

When he swung into the saddle behind me, he took the reins and rested his hand on my thigh.

I tried to think of anything else. I made a game of it.

Songs, places I’d been, Aelith. But the latter led to thinking of the holy water—which, of course, reminded me why I was in this situation—pressed against B?k’s unforgiving form as the horse rocked beneath us.

I tried even harder. Favorite foods, favorite stories, favorite insults.

You can do this for one day, I cheered myself on. He’s a crusty lamb shank. He’s less significant than a flake of dead skin. He’s like if Fl?r were worse.

When we hit rocky terrain, the motion shoved me deeper between B?k’s muscular thighs, and his rapidly hardening cock pressed against my ass.

It gave me a terrible, wonderful idea. I angled so he would rock directly into me with each bounce.

He grew predictably harder, even as the surrounding air heated in warning.

I smiled to myself—ready to relent, lest I actually anger him—when Brü raised a hand, bringing us to a silent halt.

I looked around, but I didn’t see whatever had given him pause. Then Brü made a motion—a signal I didn’t know, but everyone else seemed to recognize.

My heart lurched, tendrils rising and ready. I reached slowly for my lute.

B?k’s fingers closed around my wrist.

“No,” he breathed against my ear before he released me and leapt to the ground.

But B?k didn’t land in the empty pathway he’d leapt toward.

By the time his feet hit the ground, Huntress factionites were everywhere.

It was another fucking ambush. They were up in the trees, lying on the ground, crouched in the foliage.

Dozens of them—all with their weapons trained on us.

It was as though we’d been in a blinding fog and had stepped out to find ourselves surrounded.

It had to have been spellwork. How had none of us detected it?

Fl?r cried out, “B?k, no!”

And the moment of surprise fizzled. Dozens of weapons that had been more evenly distributed swung toward B?k.

My lute was suddenly in my hands, drawn there by my tendrils without so much as a conscious thought on my part. That was new. I didn’t— couldn’t— stop to think about B?k’s stupid game, or we were all going to die. He’d forgiven me last time. He would just have to do it again.

I struck a chord.

And…then I flew off the horse, high into the air. The gust of wind that carried me took my breath with it. As I groped for purchase, I saw a flash below. B?k’s hands were raised—at me .

Had he thrown me himself, or was he trying to catch me?

It didn’t matter. I fell. And when I did, there was no ground waiting below. The woods disappeared in a flash as I dropped past a cliff face I hadn’t even known was nearby, and fell toward the sea.

The frigid water sloshed cold and angry in the wind. I hit hard—but not as hard as I might have done without the few bare tendrils that bothered to cushion my fall. Most of them forsook me in favor of forming a protective casing around my lute.

I swam hard for the cliff face, praying to Haz and any other available deity that there would be a place to climb out. After several alarming moments of scrambling against the slippery rock, I found a foothold.

Icy water lashed at my back. The wind skated hellishly across my exposed skin. If I didn’t get out of the water fast, I was going to go numb. I hoisted myself out with monumental effort.

The climb was slow work, made worse by the wind slicing through me, whipping my drenched cloak this way and that. Had I not been so attached to the damned thing, I might have let it fall.

When I finally reached a ledge wide enough to sit, I collapsed, choking in ragged breaths as my arms melted. I was still close enough to the water to feel its spray. The woods—the trail—were impossibly high up.

My teeth chattered. Thoughts swirled. A familiar voice whispered in my ear.

Leave now . It wasn’t the dark voice mocking me from on high.

It was my own. The one that always urged me to leave one town and find the next when things got complicated.

The voice that never found anything worth staying for.

Shaking, I folded in on myself.

Had anyone survived? I closed my eyes and saw Brü’s rueful smile. Oh, gods. Aelith would kill the Huntress herself if he didn’t make it back. The others flicked through my mind, one at a time.

I didn’t want to run. I wanted to meet Lord Austvix. I wanted to solve the Finchton letters and learn more about my magic and prove that I belonged somewhere—maybe even with the Fated—and have something worthwhile to show for myself when I finally found my family.

But how could they have survived? There were so many of the others waiting. We’d been blindsided.

Dots of black danced in my vision.

Last time, they’d seemed to want to keep us alive. To capture rather than kill. Could that be the case this time too? If I made it back, would I find my factionmates alive—possibly even in need of rescue?

I licked my frozen lips. I wanted to play for clarity or luck or rest, but my fingers trembled. They were bloody and cold. I couldn’t waste the time or energy it would take to heal them. I needed to go now.

I stood shivering violently and forced myself to move, batting each thought that came at me away. You don’t owe them this. This might be your only chance to escape B?k. Would they come for you?

I climbed until rough ledges in the rock smoothed into a winding path. It was narrow and perilous with the wind beating against me, but I moved steadily and willed my magic to make up wherever my physicality failed. I made agonizingly slow progress.

When I finally reached the grassy, wooded cliff, I nearly collapsed.

But the sound of Fl?r’s laughter stilled me.

I blinked. Had he betrayed the others? It was a shitty first thought.

And, a second later, it turned out that no—Brü’s triumphant voice answered him.

I stumbled forward, pushing brush aside, falling into the little clearing they’d made.

Dozens and dozens of Huntress factionites were bound in lines through the trees.

They were gagged, but they also appeared to be spelled silent, because none of them made the faintest sound.

My party, in contrast, sat around a small fire, enjoying the spoils of their apparent looting.

Meat and vegetables roasted on long sticks. Mead overflowed tankards.

They were all fine.

Better than fine—they were jubilant.

I sank to my knees. Relieved—yes. But also spent. Also wrapped in the self-pitying thought: No one had come for me. Not even Brü.

B?k rose. He took his time coming to me. This time, the others didn’t watch. Too pointedly, in fact. He must have dangled some interesting threats.

I looked up at him, trying to get my exhausted mind to parse what I had found. He looked entirely too satisfied.

“You threw me off a cliff,” I accused.

“You disobeyed me.”

That. Motherfucker.

The truth hit all at once. It had been an ambush—but it was B?k and Brü—and possibly everyone else in our party who knew what was coming, not our attackers. B?k must have seen it—planned it. Only I wasn’t told. That’s why everyone else recognized Brü’s signal.

“You cheated,” I muttered, my vision blurring with the desperate need for rest.

B?k bent, lifting me in his arms. I couldn’t have fought him if I’d wanted to. His heat cut through my frozen clothes and sent shivers through me as it warmed and dried them. I groaned, burying my face in him even as I wished I had an ounce of strength left to pull away.

“It was never a game, kitten,” he growled against my ear. An electric current of danger chased his thumb down my cheek. “Sleep now. Tomorrow, I will play with you.”