Page 22 of Wicked Magik

Crap, none of this was a dream.

No amount of pinching was going to get me out of it.

I put my fingers to my forehead. A bump was there, and I hissed when I came in contact with it.

Oryx groaned, and I watched as he licked the cold cloth in his hand, wet from the dried blood that had been on my forehead.

“Where are we?” I sat up and got more comfortable. I realized I was in a large bed of blankets, a mattress had to be on the bottom because the ancient wood flooring would have made it too hard and cold for me to be comfortable.

Oryx continued to suck on the rag that my blood had been on.

I should be more concerned about this, but if he hasn't killed me yet…

“You are at my Lord’s estate. The Copecus Estate, to be exact. We don’t call it that anymore, he does not like that name.” He tapped the side of his head.

My lips parted and I nodded in agreement. “Okay, well, thanks. And why did you bring me here?”

Oryx tilted his head in that cute puppy dog way that made me want to smack him. He was a damn monster that murdered a bunch of bad people. Which, they were. They all deserved it, but still.

“You were hurt, I did not want my pet to be out in the open. Blood would draw predators near.”

Oh hun, you are a predator.

“And here you will be safe, in my den. I have cleaned, see, your bedding is nice and I have clothing for you to wear so I can clean your clothes you wear now. Here.”

Oryx turned to a dresser on the opposite side of the room. While he did, I saw there was a small fire, which made me realize just how comfortable I was. He even had water and food on a tray next to the bed that was edible.

I thought maybe it was a raw piece of meat from an animal he caught, but this was fresh food. Like, New York steak, mashed potatoes and gravy. The vegetables were questionable; they were similar to green beans but a color I didn’t even recognize in my own color wheel.

Maybe I’m dead.

If there is some sort of heaven, they have different colors, right?

Then again, heaven wouldn't have this guy would he?

Hell, I’m in hell.

With a very nice monster who brings me food and water and is sucking my wound rag dry.

I don’t even know what deity to swear to anymore.

“Sure,” I nodded and held out my hand. “I’d love to change.” I was covered in dirt, crazy moss, and I think some rocks that lit up the path were scuffed on my leggings. I’d like to get back into my clothes as quickly as possible and then go from there because what he just handed me was not great escaping clothes.

It was a Victorian looking male shirt, including the ruffled wrist sleeves and everything. Big enough that it would come down to my knees easily.

Why the heck not?

I grabbed it from him, held it to my chest. He just stood there and stared.

“You are going to have to turn around.” I twirled my finger. “I’m not showing you my naked body.”

Again, he tilts his head.

Dang it, why is it so cute when a skulled creature does it. He had no clue.

“It’s rude.” I gritted my teeth at him. “Just like touching certain body parts.”

He shook his head. “But I’m not touching, just looking. I promise not to touch. I want to see what a female looks like. Especially your chest.” He pointed to my breasts like they were another person in the room.