Page 33 of Sacrificed to the Mountain Demon

Suddenly, a deafening roar shatters the air, and my eyes snap open. There, silhouetted against the fading light, stands Jytos. My heart leaps. He came for me.

"Get your fucking claws off her," Jytos growls, his voice dripping with menace.

The waira whirls, momentarily distracted. I scramble backward, wincing as pain shoots through my injured arm and knee.

Jytos doesn't wait. He launches himself at the beast, tentacles whipping through the air. The waira meets his charge with a snarl, and they collide in a tangle of limbs and fury.

I watch, transfixed, as Jytos fights. He's magnificent, his black skin glistening with sweat, muscles rippling beneath. His tentacles lash out, wrapping around the waira's throat and limbs. The beast howls, thrashing wildly. Its claws rake across Jytos's chest, leaving bloody furrows. I gasp, but Jytos barely flinches.

"That all you got?" he taunts, grinning savagely. His sharp teeth gleam in the dying light.

The waira lunges, jaws snapping. Jytos ducks, then drives his fist into its gut. The crack of breaking ribs echoes through the clearing.

Blood sprays as Jytos's claws find purchase in the waira's flesh. He rips and tears, his face a mask of primal rage. "You dare touch what's mine?" he roars.

My breath catches. His? The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver through me.

The waira tries to retreat, but Jytos's tentacles hold it fast. "Where you going, asshole? We're just getting started."

With a sickening crunch, Jytos snaps one of the beast's legs. It howls in agony, and I flinch. But a part of me... a part of me thrills at Jytos's brutality.

He's doing this for me. He's unleashing all this violence, this raw power, to protect me.

He lifts the waira up, muscles straining. With a roar, he hurls it against a nearby tree. The trunk splinters from the impact.

"Jytos," I whisper, awed by his strength.

He turns at the sound of my voice, his green eyes finding mine. For a moment, the battle rage fades, replaced by something softer. Concern? Tenderness?

The waira, battered and broken, makes one last desperate lunge. Jytos whirls, catching its jaws in his hands. His arms bulge as he forces them apart.

"Big mistake," he snarls.

With a savage twist, he tears the waira's head clean off. Blood fountains, splattering across Jytos's black skin like macabre war paint.

The headless body collapses, twitching. Jytos stands over it, chest heaving, tentacles writhing restlessly. He turns to me, and my breath hitches.

He's terrifying. He's beautiful. He's mine.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice gruff but laced with concern.

I nod, unable to find my voice. He strides towards me and kneels beside me. His hands are surprisingly gentle as they examine my wounds.

"Stupid fucking waira," he mutters. "Should've killed it slower."

A laugh bubbles up in my throat, half hysterical. "My hero," I manage to say.

His eyes lock with mine, intense and searching. "Yeah," he says softly. "Yours."

And just like that, everything changes. The air between us crackles with electricity. His hand cups my cheek, smearing blood across my skin. I should be repulsed, but I'm not. I lean into his touch, craving more.

"Jytos," I breathe, my heart pounding.

He leans in, his breath hot on my face. "Tell me you want this," he growls.

I nod, unable to speak. It's wrong, it's crazy, but I've never wanted anything more in my life.

His lips crash into mine, hungry and demanding. My hands fist in his hair, pulling him closer.

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