Page 26 of Court of Heathens

“Then turn around and create another. Life is not so straightforward. If there’s anything I’ve learned from my long years here, it is the ability to adapt and keep moving. Just because you make a choice doesn’t mean you’re stuck with it forever. You can always change, you can always go back or choose a different way. You are never trapped, Freya, not even with what fate gives you.”

There’s something lacing his words, something deeper, as if he’s talking about something else. Shaking it off, I force a smile.

“I guess you’re right. Anyway, what hobbies do gods have?” I ask, and he chuckles as he leans back, letting me change the subject, but something about what he said sticks with me.

Accept myself . . . Haven’t I?

Is that why I’m stuck, never quite moving forward?

What happens if I do?

It feels as if something has always been holding me here in this spot, and part of me thinks that if I break free and move forward, something terrible will happen.

Why?

CHAPTER 15

“I’m hunting a mask for my little witch, hunting a mask so we can kill a bitch,” I sing as I skip through the forest surrounding the coven. I found a faint trail at the edge of the barrier, and it led right into their land. Hagatha was right. It passed through without setting off alarm bells.

Nothing should be able to do that . . . .

Nothing but death magic.

I don’t tell my little witch that yet, not until I’m sure. It would only worry her, and her voice goes all high and weird when she’s worried. Plus, she won’t let me play. She’ll be all, “We need to save the world, demon, no time for thinking about our kiss.”

Our kiss.

It’s all I can think about—the way she tastes, the soft moans she made in my mouth, and the way her curves fit perfectly into my hands. Heat is all I know, yet I was scorched under her desire.

Demons take what we want, and we do what we want, yet I have held back my desire for my little witch for so long, I couldn’t anymore, especially when I saw the darkness riding her. I can still taste it now, the death pouring into me, bringing me to life and killing me at the same time. What would it be like if I fucked her?

Would she shatter into mist?

Would she wrap it around me and drain me dry?

I shudder in desire. Fires, I could only hope so, and one day, I will find out. We are destined to explode, the little witch and me. I didn’t know it all those years ago when fate brought me here. I was only here to uphold the deal, but somewhere along the way, that shifted to needing to protect her. The deal was forgotten, and all I care about now is her, but for a demon, loving someone isn’t good. It never ends well, yet I can’t seem to stop myself.

My little witch stole every dark, fiery edge of me without even realising it. I am her weapon, her saviour, and her damnation, and one day, I will be her lover. No one else could withstand her needs, not as strong as they are becoming.

It’s selfish, but a part of me likes that I could be the only one who’s able to withstand her power. Maybe Phrixius, the ass, could, but he’s a god and is all high and mighty. There’s no way he would let himself break his rules and take my witch, so that leaves me.

The quicker I get this hunt over with, the quicker I can get back to her and we can finish what we started.

It’s what speeds up my hunt, my powers flexing across the land. It’s been a long time since I’ve used so much, since I’ve been stuck at the coven. It makes me sigh in bliss to feel them flexing and being used again.

Whistling happily, I slip through the trees before deciding I should look the part. With a click of my fingers, my outfit changes, and I’m wearing a dramatic suit and a bowler hat with a moustache and a cane. It’s much better suited for a detective on the hunt.

The cold edge of death magic is faint, so I focus on it fully, letting it lead me on a merry chase. It’s a few hours of walking since I don’t want to lose the trail and have to double back, and I get bored and hungry, so I create a corndog, milkshake, and burgers along the way, eating as I go. I ignore the wild wolves and ancient beasts I feel watching me the entire time. They won’t touch me, not with the mark upon me, the one that no one else sees but me.

I am protected, at least for now.

It doesn’t stop them from being interested though. I must present a tasty snack. I wag my finger at one persistent, feral wolf, and when it bares its teeth, I click my fingers. “Bad wolf.” It shrinks down in size, changing colour until it becomes a furry little rabbit. “See how you like being hunted,” I say as I continue my journey.

My mind is split between my witch and the death magic I’m following.

It can’t be a coincidence, can it? Did someone feel her?

Do they know?

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