Page 4 of Demanding Discord
A gnarled black tree stood at the top of the canyon, its twisted roots exposed and reaching downward, creating the perfect grip for the last few feet of my ascent.
“Don’t,” Discord shouted, but it was too late.
I grabbed a root, and an array of teeny, tiny spikes, no thicker than acupuncture needles, sank half a millimeter into my palm, making it itch like a flea-infested werewolf with mange.
Scrambling to the ground above, I army crawled onto the surface, took two deep breaths, and rose to my feet. My hand burned like the spikes had injected me with everything I could possibly be allergic to, but I ignored the pain, grinding my teeth as Discord pulled himself over the edge.
“First of all, you need to stop treating me like some damsel in distress.” I flicked my wrist, fanning my burning hand.
Discord fought an amused grin. “Perhaps if you stopped putting yourself in distress, I would.”
I opened my mouth, ready to insist he give examples, but I closed it again, ticking off the list of times he’d had to carry me in my mind. “I’m not a damsel.”
He chuckled. “Noted. Would you like some help with your hand?”
I finally looked at my offending appendage, and Hecate have mercy. My index finger had swollen to the size of a sausage, and the skin on my palm had turned purple and pruney. “What the hell?”
He gingerly took my hand in his, turning it over and back again. “That tree is a thorny ash. Its sap causes burning, itching, and blisters.”
“Fabulous. I caught herpes of the hand from a thorny ass tree.” I bent my fingers and winced at the searing pain.
His brow furrowed. “Thorny ash. It also causes necrosis. Your finger, though. Did something bite you? The reaction reminds me of brimstone scorpion venom.”
“Probably. That’s why I fell.” I slipped my backpack off one shoulder. “Let me see if I’ve got any healing herbs.”
“No need.” He lifted my other arm and ran his finger over the sigil. “I can help you, if you’ll admit you are, once again, in distress.” Amusement danced in his eyes, and I narrowed mine.
My gut reaction was to tell him hell no. I was stubborn, like most first-born daughters were, but the black blisters forming on my palm made me think better of it.
“Please fix me,” I muttered.
He covered the sigil with his hand. “Are you in distress, sweet damsel witch?”
I sighed and shook my head. “Yes, Prince Pain In My Ass, I am in distress. I need my big, strong demon to use his magical healing ability to help me. Happy now?”
“Indeed.” He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. As he let out a slow breath, the invisible tether connecting us vibrated and heated. His magic seeped into my skin, spreading through my chest before cascading down my arm and gathering in my hand.
A flush of coolness spread over my palm, and the pain in my finger turned from razor sharp to a dull ache to nothing. The blisters disappeared, and the swelling faded as if I’d never been injured.
I stared at my hand in awe before looking into his eyes. “Thank you.”
He bowed his head. “Taking care of you is my pleasure… Words I never dreamed I would utter to anyone.”
Cue the flip-flopping stomach. Again.
Before I could even begin to form a response in my mind, he took my face in his hands and planted his mouth on mine, and yeah… I’ll admit I melted a little.
Okay, a lot.
He just had these full, soft lips that fit over mine like they were made to kiss me, and his body… I couldn’t help but lean into him, pressing my curves against his angles, parting my lips so he could swipe his tongue against mine.
All the blood in my brain plummeted below my navel, and I allowed myself to get lost in his embrace for a moment. A little longer. Longer still…
But this was wrong. He was a demon for Hecate’s sake, and I was on a mission to survive Hell and find a way home.
I broke the kiss on a quick inhale and touched my fingers to my lips. They still tingled; his taste lingered on my tongue.
“Which…” I cleared my throat. “Which way to Hecate’s temple?”
