Page 47 of Tricky Princess
A beautiful woman kicked him backwards. Her thick black hair swayed gracefully as she whipped around him, grasping him around the neck and choking him until he slumped to the floor. The woman ran off, not looking back.
“What the fuck?”
Ellea ran toward the hall, now noticing thuds and armor clanging. She reached the unconscious guard and peeked around the corner. A demon barreled toward her, running from the fight with shadows clinging to its eyes and mouth. A wolven followed, shadows wrapped around his body as he bit at the demon’s heels.
Wolven?
Shadows?
Peeking around again, she saw a glimpse of fangs and fire as another demon slammed into the wall, forcing her to move her head back.
Rosier.
He was here and he was mad with fury. His eyes glowed red, and faint lines of fire and shadow she had never seen before ran under his skin. A demon slid toward Ros, trying to thrust a dagger upward, but Ros grabbed his wrist, twisting and roaring in his face. The dagger fell into Ros’ waiting hand. Breaking his hold, Ros forced him down and pivoted left, bringing the demon with him.
Ros was using him as a shield, and Ellea found herself eager to learn that move as he blocked an attack with the demon’s body and threw a dagger at another. Ros pulled roughly, and a snap rang through the hall as he dislocated the demon’s shoulder. He kicked him toward someone she recognized, Mythis. Ros pulled back, a new dagger glinting in his hand, poised to strike.
“No!” Ellea yelled. “Not him, he owes me money.”
Ros’ ethereal eyes slowly turned toward her. He looked deadly and oh so hot. He let out a long breath, seeming to let go of the darkness that was driving him. Hazel replaced red, and he dropped the dagger.
“Ellea?”
“Thank fuck,” Mythis groaned, laying back down.
Ros’ long legs ate up the distance to where Ellea stood. Shock burned in her chest. The sight of him was damning. He was so beautiful—even covered in blood.
“Took you long enough,” she said breathlessly as he wrapped his strong arm around her back and tangled his other hand at the base of her neck. He tugged on her hair, and a whimper escaped her mouth. She forced her eyes open; they wanted to close and stop the tears that were threatening to fall. The cool caress of his shadows ran across her neck and up her cheek before they toyed with her loose hair and the fabric of her dress. She found strength to move, reaching to rub her palm across his beard and his blood-splattered face. A shiver wracked through her, one of need and want. Would she ever not need him?
“Ellea,” he said for the second time, his voice hoarse.
Words tried to escape his perfect lips, but she quieted them with her own. Pressing her lips to his roughly, she forced his mouth to open for her so she could taste him. There was no tenderness to their joining; it was all tongue and teeth, and she made the most absurd moan when he caught her bottom lip with one of his fangs.
A thud sounded behind her. Someone cleared their throat, and Ros broke free, turning to glare at whoever it was. His face quickly softened and he stood, steadying Ellea. She peeked over his shoulder, and warm brown skin and watery blue eyes stared back at her. Ellea sobbed and ran to Devon, jumping over bodies and crashing into his open arms. He breathed her in and let out a sob of his own.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Ellea whispered to him.
“And you should be in worse shape,” he said, prying her face from the crook of his neck. He grasped her cheeks, searching every inch. “You look good. Too good.”
“Thanks, ass.” She swatted his chest. “And Sam?”
A wolven surrounded by shadows flashed into her mind, and she looked back to see a heap of fur on the floor near the beautiful woman she’d seen before. She stroked the wolven and looked to Ros, then Devon. “He’s okay, but we need a healer.”
Ellea ran to them, to Sam and the woman she knew but didn’t.
Sam nudged her once before closing his eyes.
“Not worried about me, then?” the woman said, petting an unconscious Sam as she looked at Ellea.
Ellea’s eyes danced between the two. Her voice was so familiar, but Ellea didn’t recognize her warm skin and black hair. But those eyes…
Billy!
Me, Billy said telepathically.
Ellea couldn’t move, could barely breathe, as Billy strode to her gracefully.
“I love your beast form,” Ellea said, wrapping her arms around her oldest friend as silent tears ran down her face. “But this is hot.”
