Page 17 of Court of Heathens

I nod. At least I have an answer. Turning away with a shaking hand, I freeze at his voice.

“And I want to protect you more than I have anyone else. I don’t know why, but when he threatened to kill you, something within me snapped. I have never denied another god before. Read into that what you will.”

My heart hammers at the confused confession.

That makes two of us who are confused.

I know one thing for sure, Phrixius doesn’t belong here, and I could die if I’m not careful. You cannot keep a god at your side without facing the consequences. They are not made for this world.

CHAPTER 10

Grumbling under my breath, I appear at the very edge of this world. It’s a place even the humans do not know about—a mystical place born from every fibre of magic. It stays protected from those without magic and acts as a haven for those born from it. True magical beings reside here, some even older than the gods themselves or the ancient beasts of the forest. It would do me well to be quiet and get in and out quickly. I might be a demon, but if one of those decides I am its mid-morning snack, then I’m screwed, and not in a good way.

I stand here, pressing my fingers to my lips where they still burn from her touch. She tasted like sin and death, and it was so addictive, I’m almost begging for another kiss.

That was my first.

Demons are immortal beings, and although I am one, I am not as old as some. Besides, the sins of the flesh never bothered me before her. I made deals for death and fun until her. When she started to explore pleasure, it felt like I was as well, as if she unlocked something within me—something she controls, even if she doesn’t know it. Maybe the deal we made is why, but my little witch controls that part of me.

I have dreamed about tasting her, feeling her, and claiming her for years, yet with one little kiss, I am undone, lingering in a place no foul beast like me should, darkening the lands of ancient magic that fights to reject me.

Shaking my head, I glance around for what I came for. The quicker I get it, the quicker I can return, get rid of that pesky god, and deal with this addiction once and for all. It’s time my little witch made her final deal—to become mine.

Luckily, my magic allowed me to home in on the tree, even if it is hard to focus on. They often say it erupted here, taking root as soon as this world came into existence, as if it’s the beating heart of this world.

I’m about to strip it for my little witch. I almost smirk, glad to be doing something so evil.

I suppose she does let me have some fun, even if she won’t let me eat Hagatha.

The old broad would go down in one bite, and I bet that pure, self-righteous soul would be delicious. No matter how good my little witch tries to be, she’s just as dark as I, and I cannot wait for her to give in, which means getting rid of the god first. My lips still burn like the pits of hell as I focus on the tree before me.

There is a river of pure, glistening magic guarding it like a moat. The tree stands tall and proud, reaching into the clouds upon a granite island. Easy-peasy. Taking a few steps back, I get a running start and leap over the moat, landing on the granite island. I feel the magic reaching for me, so I skip to the tree and slap my hand onto the rough bark, knowing it won’t touch me now.

“I taste delicious, but only one witch can eat me.” I waggle my finger at the magic before glancing back at the deep brown tree. The branches are small down here. Will she need a bigger one? The god is a big bastard, and I don’t want any delays.

Gripping the bark, I fling myself up, quickly climbing to the very top of the tree. I’ll get her the biggest branch there is so there are no errors or mistakes, that way the god can fuck off and I can play with my witch again.

The tree is big, and by the time I get to the large branches, I’mexhausted, knowing I might not be able to carry one bigger. I climb onto the one I want and then reach above me. I hold onto a branch and slam my feet down over and over again until it starts to crack. I dare not use my magic here. I have a feeling it would not go well. After several jumps, the branch finally falls, and I ride it down to the ground where it crashes. I hop off and roll at the last minute and then grab it, dragging it over the river and disappearing once more.

I reappear back in my witch’s house.

“I present to you the branch from the oldest tree in the world, also one of the biggest.” I snap my fingers as it floats through the cave and place it on the table. It’s so long, it hangs over either end, and I grin happily, waiting for my reward. My smile soon fades when Freya and the god just stare at me.

“What? I know I’m handsome, but there is no need to gawk. Actually, little witch, look all you want. In fact, feel free to test out how handsome I am.” I slap my cheek with a wink. “Why don’t you ride it and see?”

She just sighs, shakes her head, and turns back to her potions, but her back is tight, and her shoulders are tense. My eyes narrow on her, then I glance at the god. If that son of a bitch did anything to hurt her?—

He must sense my thoughts because one perfect eyebrow arches. “Mors, the god of death, popped by.”

My body freezes, my eternal fire dousing as pure fear fills me unlike anything I have ever felt. It must be fear, right? I have heard humans speak of it, but I have never felt it before. I pop into existence at her side, gripping her and turning her roughly. My hands trace every inch of her, even as she tries to slap me away. I look for any wound or grievance.

I was gone, and he was here.

She could have been killed with nothing but a look.

She could have been lost to me forever.

The organ inside my chest squeezes so tightly, I can’t even breathe, and it’s only when her hands cover mine on her chest that I inhale. “I’m okay,” she whispers softly. “Bob protected me.”

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