Page 8 of The Demon of the Wood

“Gregory, what are you—”

His lips slammed into hers, not soft and kind like she had always imagined, but harsh and claiming and hard. Her lips hurt and he bit down, pain searing through her. His hands grabbed her hips, his fingers sinking in with such force that she let out a muted cry.

He pressed harder against her. “Don’t make a ruckus, Melina.”

He was angry, but that dark hunger was there from before, and a myriad of emotions twisted in her. “No, please Gregory. I need to get home.” She pushed against him, and his face screwed in a snarl as he grabbed her by the arms, then thrust her back so she slammed against the tree.

“You knew exactly what you were doing when you came out tonight,” Gregory spat, his hand clutching hard on her arm and making her yelp. “You wanted this, you little whore. Everyone knows what you are. Do you think you’re too good for this?”

He tore the cloak off her, then ripped the bodice of her dress. His lips pressed harshly against hers again and she sobbed into the kiss, bringing her knee up hard, hitting him in the groin. He loosened his grasp, grunting in pain, and she knocked her forehead against his face.

Gregory stumbled back, grasping his bleeding nose, a shock of pain showing on his features as his friends cried out and rushed forward. But the fear in Melina cleared the fog of alcohol and she turned, taking off into the forest. They cried out behind her, their heavy footfalls unable to keep up with her sure feet.

She heard a set of steps growing closer to her, though, and a sob escaped her, but she pushed it all down, pumping her legs faster. There was a clearing up ahead, bathed in moonlight. She kept sprinting, her breath coming out shorter, a pain pulsing in her side. She came to the clearing when someone rammed into her, making her fall face first into the snow.

“There you are,” came Gregory’s voice as he held her body to the ground.

“Let me go!” she cried out, but his body pinned hers, trapping her arms.

Gregory panted over her, his hands palming her, him not noticing what Melina did. Crunching snow, the stirring of wind. A pair of dark leather boots came into view and behind was a long, scaled tail that whipped and twitched angrily. Her mouth went dry.

“She told you to let her go,” a voice like midnight said.

Gregory stilled, then he took in a sharp breath as he scrambled to his feet. Melina crawled quickly away, huddling against a tree. Gregory stood stalk still, his eyes wide, his body shaking. Melina didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Standing over Gregory was a demon.

His large leathery wings stretched out around him, creating a terrifying image. Dark, curly hair tumbled around his chiseled face that was set in a scowl, his nostrils flaring. He was the most beautiful and frightening being Melina had ever seen.

Gregory’s wits seemed to return because he turned and bounded off into the wood. For a while after, the demon stared at him. The sounds of Gregory meeting up with his buddies drifted back to the clearing, then the voices faded as they left. The demon turned to her, and she began trembling as he approached. Her stomach clenched and her vision blurred.

Crouching to be at her level, he asked, “Are you injured?”

She had only a moment to take in his face, the scar that stretched along his right cheek, the horns curling on each side of his head, the wings looming over her, before her vision went black.

four

Melina

Melinalayonsomethingsoft. Impossibly soft. Like clouds or those tufts of sugary treats the confectioners made in the market. She pressed her face against it, sighing and wrapping her arm around the pillow as she smiled. It smelled of pine and leather and smoke, and… lavender. An odd scent in the arrangement, but lovely all the same. She inhaled deeply, letting it seep into her. Her body hurt with the breath, though, and she remembered the night before with a jolt. Heart pounding, she sat up, sinking into the soft bed.A bed.

She whipped her head around wildly, taking in her surroundings. The bed was enormous, enough for four full-grown men, a couple of pillows lining the back and a sturdy, if well-worn quilt lay across her. She was in a one-room cabin, the walls expertly crafted from logs. To her right was a long wall with two windows on either side of a door that was much larger than the ones she was used to seeing. A stove with a chimney was to her left, along with a cabinet, overflowing with haphazardly placed items and wooden carved creatures. A table with two chairs sat over a bearskin rug in front of a hearth. The cabin was well kept, if disorganized, and she wondered if she had dreamt of seeing the demon last night. She certainly wasn’t in his lair, held captive in a stinking, dark cave.

She wore a nightshirt that swallowed her whole body, coming down past her knees, and she still wore her torn dress under it. Whoever had found her had covered her up. Her cheeks burned at the thought of them seeing her that way, but the thoughtfulness touched her. She surely came across a human, perhaps a family, judging by the size of the bed. Where were they? The air was as cool as the frosted world outside, and she rubbed her arms. Embers blinked and flared as they died in the hearth, and she was certain whoever had helped her couldn’t be far.

Footsteps sounded outside the cabin, and she stiffened in anticipation. A person kicked the side of the cabin to clear the snow off their boots, then the door opened.

The first thing Melina saw was the clawed tip of bat-like wings stretching over the top of the door. Then it opened fully, and she let out a scream, quickly covering her mouth with both hands as the demon stood before her.

Sweat bubbled on her forehead as a chill ran through her. He was even more beautiful and frightening than she’d realized in her haze of the night before. He cocked his head to the side, black curls falling around his curved horns, his green eyes lined with concern.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice deep and resonant, and she felt a different kind of shiver along her spine.

Something tugged inside of her, something that made her want to run to him, but horror quickly replaced that. She remembered what Mr. Collie had said in the market the day before. These males’ powers of seduction were unmatched, manipulating, and willing human women to do as they pleased with barely a thought. She had no magic herself to wield in her defense against his wiles. Well, that wouldn’t stop her! She scrambled out of the bed, running to the stove and grabbing the cast-iron skillet. It was heavy, but she was used to handling them, so she braced with both hands, swinging it wildly at him.

“Get back, demon!” she cried out, her voice sounding so small against the looming figure in front of her.

He pursed his lips and flexed his jaw. “Easy there, warrior.”

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