Page 47 of Sacrificed to the Mountain Demon

I turn to her, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and fierce eyes. My woman, my warrior. I cup her face with one blood-stained hand.

"Don't worry," I growl confidently. "I've got this. You just keep those arrows ready."

She nods, firm determination blazing in her eyes. Fuck, I love her.

Turning back to the waira leader, I crack my neck and stretch my tentacles. Time to show this overgrown mutt who's boss.

"Alright, you ugly son of a bitch," I snarl, baring my teeth. "Let's dance."

23

BELLA

My heart pounds in my chest as I watch Jytos square off against the massive waira leader. The beast towers over him, its matted fur caked with blood and grime. Jytos looks small in comparison, but his stance is confident, his tentacles waving wildly in anticipation.

"Come on, you nasty bastard," Jytos growls, his green eyes gleaming with a predatory light. "Let's see what you've got."

The waira leader lunges forward. Its massive jaws snap shut inches from Jytos's face. He dodges, quick as lightning, and lashes out with his tentacles. They wrap around the beast's neck and squeeze it tight.

I nock an arrow, my hands shaking as I take aim at a smaller waira trying to flank us. The bow feels foreign in my grip, but I force myself to steady my breathing. I can't let Jytos down. Not now.

The arrow flies true, embedding itself in the waira's eye. It drops with a strangled yelp, and I allow myself a moment of pride before turning back to the main fight.

Jytos and the waira leader circle each other, neither willing to give an inch. Jytos's tentacles lash out, scoring deep gashes inthe waira's hide, but the beast seems unfazed. It charges again, and this time its claws find purchase, raking across Jytos's chest.

"No!" I cry out, my voice lost in the cacophony of battle.

Jytos stumbles back, blood seeping from the wounds. For a moment, fear grips my heart. Can he really handle this? The waira leader is so much bigger, so much stronger. What if...

I shake my head, banishing the thought. No, I can't think like that. Jytos is strong. He's survived this long on his own. He can do this.

But as I watch them trade blows, doubt creeps in. The waira leader is relentless, its attacks coming faster and harder with each passing second. Jytos is holding his own, but for how long?

I can see the strain in his movements, the way he favors his left side. The wounds on his chest are still bleeding, staining his black skin with a darker sheen.

I soon turn my attention back to the smaller waira. I pick them off one by one with my arrows. Each shot is a silent prayer and a desperate hope that Jytos will emerge victorious.

The battle rages on, a symphony of snarls and the wet sound of flesh tearing. I steal glances whenever I can, my heart in my throat as I watch Jytos and the waira leader trade blows.

They're evenly matched, I realize with a start. For all its size and strength, the waira leader can't seem to gain the upper hand. But neither can Jytos. They're locked in a stalemate, and I don't know how long either of them can keep this up.

"Come on, Jytos," I whisper, letting another arrow fly. "You can do this. You have to."

Because if he doesn't, what will happen to us? To me? The thought of losing him, of facing this world alone again, is almost too much for me to bear.

I watch as Jytos lands a particularly vicious blow, his tentacles wrapping around the waira leader's throat. For amoment, hope flares within me. But then the beast twists, breaking free, and the fight continues.

My arrows are running low, and the smaller waira keep coming. I don't know how much longer I can hold them off. Everything hinges on Jytos defeating their leader. But as I watch them clash again and again, neither gaining the advantage, I can't help but wonder: is it even possible?

I look on nervously as they continue their heated battle, a cacophony of snarls and roars that echo through the mountains. My heart thrums in my chest, a frantic drumbeat that matches the rhythm of my fear. Jytos is a blur of motion, his tentacles whipping through the air as he grapples with the waira leader. They're in a deadlock at this point, a terrifying dance of teeth and claws and raw, unbridled power.

I simply can't lose him. The thought is a cold, hard knot in my stomach. I've seen too much of what this harsh world can do to those who are vulnerable. And Jytos, despite his strength, his ferocity, is not invincible.

I scan the ground nearby, my eyes landing on a long-discarded spear. It's crude, fashioned from the branch of a gnarled tree, but it's solid, the tip sharpened to a deadly point. My hands close around the shaft, the wood rough against my palms. I know what I have to do.

With a deep breath, I sprint towards the fray. My heart is in my throat, my blood roaring in my ears. Jytos catches sight of me, his eyes widening in surprise and alarm. "Bella, no!"

But I'm beyond hearing, beyond reasoning. All I can see is the waira leader, its matted fur bristling, its eyes gleaming with a bloodthirsty light. I hurl the spear with all my might, and it sails through the air, end over end, before embedding itself in the beast's torso.

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