Page 10 of Warmongers and Wands
Chapter 5
Bronwyn
Iwoke to the smell of stew and Diebin staring at me from the edge of my bed. My first thought was that I hoped the raccoon wasn’t rabid, because damn it all, a broken leg was bad enough. My second thought was that whatever that was cooking on the fire, I wanted it in my belly right now.
Not wanting to attempt hopping my way over to the food, I put out a tentative hand, wondering if Diebin was friendly.
The raccoon stared at my fingers and made a chattering noise. Then he gave me the equivalent of a high five. A paw five? Either way, I’d take it as a positive sign that this guy wasn’t harboring secret plans of mauling me.
“How are you feeling?” a deep voice asked.
I shifted around to look at the man, immediately regretting the action. “Sore. Bruised. I feel better, but I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be dancing the jig any time soon.”
“If you’re up to it, then you should eat.”
He approached and bent to wrap his arms around me, gently easing me into a sitting position. I rode out the pain, fully aware that I was wearing nothing but a bra and panties, and that his efforts put his head right against my breasts. Soft beard and hair. Warm breath against my skin. Muscular arms around me that looked like they belonged to a lumberjack.
All too soon I was sitting upright, a folded fur supporting my leg. The man had his back to me, stirring the stew, so I took the opportunity to check out his medical handiwork and my injuries. The diagonal red mark and bruise from my left shoulder to my right hip had definitely improved. I was glad the seatbelt had done its job or I would have been bounced around the inside of my truck like a freaking ping pong ball. The bruise on my left thigh was huge and dark, but it didn’t look like something that would cost me my life by my inexpert estimation. My right knee was still a little swollen, but a few tentative tries told me that I could bend it. Good. One leg working was better than none. I couldn’t see what was going on under the splint on my lower left leg, but from the steady throbbing, I knew this was my most serious injury.
I’d take it. Thank heaven for seatbelts and airbags. I’d gone over the side of a mountain. I could have died. I could have had internal injuries or split my head open, or had my legs smashed into little fragments. I was so lucky to have survived this with what truly were minor injuries. And I was so lucky that this hottie had been living near where I’d crashed and been home to help me.
The man returned with two bowls of the stew, dragging a chair over beside the bed with one of his feet. He handed me a bowl, then sat beside me, the second one on his lap. Diebin chattered, then hopped off the bed to head to another bowl on the floor by the table. We ate in silence. And damn if this wasn’t the best thing I’d ever eaten in my life—and that included food my sister Glenda had cooked. I think it had to do with being in the woods, hungry, and having had a near-death experience. Somehow all that made this plain stew like manna from heaven.
My companion ate in silence, every now and then glancing up to check on me, his eyes roving over my exposed skin. It was making me uncomfortable—and not necessarily in a bad way, either.
“What’s your name?” I asked him. Crap, I knew the raccoon’s name but not his. I was a horrible excuse for a damsel in distress.
“Hadur.”
That was it. No last name. No elaboration. Personally, I liked a man of few words, not that I had all that much experience with men outside of a professional or friendship capacity. This made conversation a bit one-sided though.
“Are you part of the pack, Hadur?” I asked, realizing that the answer was probably “no.” Up until recently, Dallas’ werewolf pack didn’t allow for lone wolves. You were either in the pack or you were dead. And I didn’t get the impression that this guy was a newly separated member of the pack. He’d been out here in the woods a long time—a very long time, from my estimation.
“The werewolves?” He fingered one of the pelts on the bed. “They know to stay away.”
Ewww. I was going to pretend that these furs covering me were animal-animals. Pretending hard, here—very hard.
“So what kind of shifter are you? Bear?” He seemed like a bear with his powerful body and his loner lifestyle.
He shot me a puzzled glance. “No. I’m yours.”
“My what?” I pressed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m super grateful you came along when you did and got me out of that truck. I’m grateful for you taking care of me and feeding me this amazing stew, which I really really hope isn’t werewolf or at least a werewolf that I know personally. I don’t want to pry or anything, but you’re clearly not human if you’re ripping doors off a wrecked truck and bending dashboards. So, shifter? Incredible Hulk? Jason Momoa bitten by a radioactive spider?”
“I am a demon of war—your demon. I’ve waited for you to come back. I yield to you and will do as you bid of me, my witch. I have waited so long. I feared you would never return, but you’ve finally returned. And I will be yours. I will do whatever you command. I will serve you for all eternity.”
Oh, God, this was quite possibly the most erotic thing I’d ever experienced—not that I’d ever experienced anything remotely erotic in my thirty-one years of life. Why, oh why did this have to happen when I was immobilized in bed with a broken leg? Why?
“So…a demon.” The only experience I’d had with demons was Lucien, the guy Cassie was shacked up with. He was hot, sexy, dangerous, not the sort of individual I’d expect to be living out in the woods all by himself. Clearly this guy was different.
And he’d said a war demon. That sent up all sorts of red flags in my mind, although he didn’t seem particularly violent or angry or anything sitting here next to me with an empty bowl of stew in his lap.
“Why are you here, Hadur?” I waved a hand around at the cabin. “How long have you been living out here in the woods by yourself?”
He tilted his head. “I’ve been here since I was summoned. I cannot leave until I am released.”
A lump settled in my stomach that had nothing to do with the stew I’d just eaten. “How long? How long has it been since you’ve been summoned?”
“Two hundred years? Possibly a decade or two more. I’ve lost track of time out here.” He reached out a finger to trace the line of my jaw, then brushed across my lower lip. “I thought…I thought you would never return. When I felt your presence, felt you cross the boundaries, I could hardly believe it. You are here. You have returned, and I will do all you ask, my witch. I will serve you, Adelaide.”
