Page 23 of Grabbed By the Guard

Up ahead, there’s a fire pit. Seriously. That’s what Glaine told me it’s called. A literal hole in the ash, it’s full of fire. I try not to think about what that could mean. Is Sombra all flames, or is it constantly burning? I’m not sure, but he mentions that only the fire-eater demons—a rare subset of Sombra demons—can handle the flame and use that to power the part of this world that doesn’t rely on mages and honest-t0-god magic. It doesn’t really make sense to me, but since I wouldn’t run headlong into a fire pit, I just take his warning that we must avoid them and give them a wide berth. Not hard to do when the billowing smoke and renewed rotten egg stink warns you that they’re coming.

I wondered if that’s all there is to this world when we first left the dungeon and Glaine said it was okay to speak again. That’s when he told me that we’re heading toward a village made up of Sombra demons, but that while we’re leaving the dungeon without Duke Haures’s permission—you know, escaping—that we’re keeping to the edge of the shadows where we shouldn’t run into anyone else if we stay to the edge.

I have to rely on him. It sucks, but I have to trust him. Do I? If I can believe that he honestly wants to prove that he is my mate, then sure.

But since I just can’t accept that Billie Bickles from Manhattan is supposed to be the fated partner to an immortal demon…

Looping the chain around one thick wrist, Glaine moves into me. He’s careful not to prick me with his claws as he grabs me by the waist, lifting me up and marching around the next fire pit.

This time, I let him maneuver me without fighting back. It’s not the first time he’s done this as we fled, and I’ve learned it’s not worth it to argue. He didn’t go through all this trouble and piss off his ruler just to lose me now, and I get that.

So I wait until he’s decided we’re far enough away from the fire pit and sets me down to murmur a ‘thanks’ before trudging forward in the ash.

He bows his head, drawing attention to his arcing horns. “Of course, Billie.”

Damn it. The way he murmurs my name, one part reverential, one part possessive… despite how hot it is out here, I shiver.

Glaine is smart enough to mention it.

Though he does decide that he’s going to attempt to explain his insane rationale to me again. “I think you misunderstand me. I am not attracted to you solely because the gods gave you to me?—”

Not this again. At least, with the excuse that we’re ‘fated mate’s, it can explain why a seven-foot-tall demon with huge muscles, gleaming horns, pointed ears, and fangs might look at me and think ‘sex’ and not ‘dinner’. Because, oh, yeah… I have no idea how he thinks we could even fit, but there’s no doubt in my mind that, when Glaine says ‘mate’, it’s because he’s already imagining us fucking.

I’m definitely adventurous, but even I have my limits. I just have to hope that this nice guy act he puts on when he’s not glowering down at me in silence is a clue that I really can trust him with that when I’m at my most vulnerable. Like sleep. I’m gonna need it sooner or later and?—

Pushing those concerns out of my head, I snort.

“You can’t tell me that I’m any demon’s idea of a mate.”

I try not to be so self-deprecating, but after more than fifteen years in Sierra’s shadow, it’s tough. And I don’t blame her one bit for my own insecurities. Like always, I deal.

But it seems as though Glaine won’t let me—at least, not alone.

He doesn’t need the chains as an excuse to get closer to me. But he takes it, and now he’s consuming me. With his gaze, with his masculine scent—spicy and warm and so much nice than the rotten egg stink—and his possessiveness as he bows his big body over mine.

“You are small. Your ears are rounded.” He lays a warm finger on the shell of my ear before I can jerk my head out of his reach. His touch scorches—and I don’t just mean my skin, either. “Your fangs are too tiny to do any damage. You are mortal and you can die. I won’t allow that, but these are facts. You are a pale shade of red. Your eyes are dim. You are no demoness… but it doesn’t matter. Because, to me, you are perfect.

“You are perfect because you are Billie. You are also mine.” He pats my poor sleep-flattened curls gently, as though I’m a pet… but I get the vibe that, if given the chance, he would’ve gone for a more intimate touch than on my ear. “Sombra demons are immortal. That means we are patient. I have forever to earn your forgiveness and your heart.”

He’s immortal.

I’m not.

I don’t have forever. I don’t even have more than the handful of days it’s going to take to find a mage to separate us and, hopefully, send me home. Sierra has got to be worried. Roy’s probably pulled in his whole security team, searching for me. And Three… I miss my cat. I miss my phone. I miss my life.

But when I glance up and see the look on Glaine’s face and know—just know—that he means what he says… I swallow roughly.

For once, I don’t have a pithy comeback.

CHAPTER 9

TRUST ME

BILLIE

Idon’t trust easily. I rarely trust at all. But there are times when I’ve been thrown in a situation where I have no choice. It’s kind of like trauma-bonding in a way, and after a full day of travel… I decide I have to trust Glaine for now otherwise I’ll lose it.

I have to trust him to show me the right spot to squat and pee that won’t end up with fire up my vagina or something. I have to trust him that the berry-looking things he digs out of the ash are edible; at the very least, they’re sweet enough to eat, and juicy enough to quench my thirst. When my legs go wobbly, I have to trust him to pick me up, and when I fall asleep against his chest, I trust him to keep on marching toward Nuit.

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