Page 6 of Demon's Obsession

“Do you not think I can feel your reluctance? There will be no trying. Find him or else…”

“Do you know how crazy you look talking to yourself, Daks? I thought that was you I heard roaring like a savage. I can’t leave you alone for a single minute.” Christa tutted and took hold of his elbow, guiding them to the waiting SUV. “Get in before you scare the world and his wife.”

His demon didn’t argue, he was always a little wary of Christa because her demon side, when she made an appearance, was a screecher and hurt his ears.

“Good decision,” she said, patting him like one would a toddler when he got inside the car. She shut the door and twisted on the seat, holding up a piece of paper, smiling. “I’ve a contact number for Silas and an address.”

He reached to snatch the paper out of her hand, his claws tearing the corner as she tugged her hand back, shaking herhead. “Nope. You need to go home and calm your ass down because in this state you’ll frighten Silas.”

She looked at the driver as his demon gave her a perplexed look. “Miller, let's get Dak’s home, please.”

“This is our true self, he will not fear us!” his demon rasped huskily, believing it fully. “He will want us as we want him.”

Christa slapped his chest. “You have a lot to learn about attraction. What do you think is going to happen? You’ll beat your chest and show him your massive organ, then demand to fuck, and this will seduce the tree nymph?” She cackled as the car drew smoothly into the traffic.

Glowering at his sister, Dakata focused on getting his demon to recede. Exhausted and sweaty by the time he shifted, he sank back against the leather seat and ignored the woman at his side, who was still eyeing him with continued amusement.

He willed Miller to put his foot down to avoid the continued lecture he could see coming from a mile away. He wasn’t wrong when Christa tapped a tattoo on her leg.

“This is what happens when you don’t let out your demon, Daks. Maybe you should pay a visit to our realm and pick up a willing fuck—”

“Don’t,” he snapped, his skin tightening at the very idea of being naked with someone who wasn’t the chocolate eyed nymph. It unnerved him that it wasn’t just his demon half feeling that way.

For a second, he contemplated whether a visit to his realm was exactly what he needed…

You do that and I’ll go on a rampage of the kinds you’ve never been party to before.

Give the fuck over and don’t threaten me.

It’s not a threat, it’ll be fact.

They often had spats, but this time Dakata knew it could intensify beyond that.Keep your horns on. When do I ever go to our realm for sex?

A heavy silence fell between them, and Dakata sensed a headache brewing when Christa held the piece of paper in front of his face and waved it at him. “Call him tomorrow and invite him out for a coffee, or whatever they drink in the forest.” She kissed the side of his sweaty face. “And for once, try not to be yourself.”

Chapter Five

Silas

“Oh, you poor wee thing. You need some loving, don’t you?” Silas kneeled in the rain-soaked earth, his hands cupping a small seedling that something had clearly stepped on. One of his favorite things was to wander along the river in the mornings, while the mist still lingered and before the sun fully rose, checking on the plant life that grew wherever they could. The river was a favorite among fishermen and many of them didn’t think about where they put their boots, although for the mostpart they took their rubbish away with them, which Silas and the other forest folk appreciated.

Although the area was free of people, life teamed around Silas as he quietly worked his magic. Birds shook out their soggy feathers and sang to each other, greeting the rise of the sun. Insects flew about getting their own food before the birds started eyeing them up for breakfast. Plants stretched, their roots sinking deep into the soil now enriched from the overnight showers. “It’s just some of you need a bit of magic, too,” he murmured softly.

Silas smiled as the stem straightened under his fingers. Back when he was younger, he used to uproot and move every plant he found that had gotten stepped on carefully, trying to find places where they were less likely to get in the way of footwear. It was Dougal who stopped him from doing that, telling him not to interfere with Mother Nature’s job. It was through Dougal that Silas learned about the forest being its own beautifully balanced ecosystem—some plants grew to be eaten, others to provide shelter, but everything had its season and its reason for being.

After making sure the plant would live another day, or until another boot came along, Silas sat back on his heels, a half-smile curving his lips as he breathed in the peace and beauty around him. He was refreshed. Silas always spent a full day curled up in the branches of his own tree after spending time in town, and he had done that the day before.

His majestic oak was more than twenty feet high and stood lush and sturdy in its spot in the forest. As much as Silas couldn’t ignore his need to sing for an audience, being in town among so many people and their emotions, not to mention the pollutants city living seemed to generate, always left him feeling slightly off-kilter. But a day lolling around on the branches of the oak renewed his spirit, leaving him with a deep feeling of contentment.

At least, that was normally the case. But this time, the demon he’d sung for wouldn’t leave his thoughts. Instead, the intense being penetrated his dreams on both the Friday and the Saturday night, leaving Silas sweaty and with messy sheets when he’d woken up. It wasn’t the first time Silas had such a visceral reaction to another being—Wanda hadn’t been wrong when she said he liked to dream of the men he saw when he was out. Although this time something was different, and Silas couldn’t work out why.

“Here. You look like you could do with this.”

Silas’s smile widened as he tilted his head, peering up at Dougal, who was wearing his typical snarl and his giant overcoat. “You made me mushroom toasties, thank you.” He took the sandwich gratefully, taking a big mouthful as Dougal squatted beside him and bit into a sandwich of his own.

Dougal had been with the forest since its first tree had sprouted centuries before. Considered a troll by any human who saw him, Silas always believed there was a lot more to the grumpy man with his long gray hair, bushy beard, and irregular features. He’d certainly seen more than most people ever would in a hundred lifetimes.

“You might as well spill it,” Dougal said when the sandwiches were finished. He dug into his Coat of Many Pockets—so named by Wanda when she was small—with his large hand and pulled out a flask. “Your energies are all over the place. Something happened in the city.”

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