Page 40 of Demon Monster's Little Human

She doesn’t push me away.

That makes it worse. I pray she push me away. Scream at me. Call me a monster.

My claws flex against her waist, fighting the instinct to pull her closer, to taste her properly, to take and take and take.

I stop.

I wrench myself back, breath sharp, body coiled too tight, mind screaming at me in a thousand different ways.

I can’t do this.

She can’t be mine. She cannot be. I need to fight this overwhelming feeling of wanting her, craving her.

Not when her blood is Purna. Not when everything in me says she should not exist.

She doesn’t react.

She is already slipping back into unconsciousness, barely aware of what just happened.

Good.

Better.

I exhale sharply, forcing myself to pull away, to adjust her into a more comfortable position, to ignore the way my body still hums with something violent.

I need air. I need distance.

I need to not think about what I just did.

I rise carefully, keeping her as warm as possible in my absence. She won’t last long if her fever worsens.

I scan the cave, trying to recall the herbs that once existed in this part of the world. It’s been too long. My memories are fractured, half-lost to stone sleep, but I force myself to remember.

She needs it. And that is the problem, isn’t it?

I am doing this for her because she is Liora.

I step into the night.

I need to find something to bring her back.

Before I lose myself completely.

17

LIORA

Iwake to emptiness.

The heat that had wrapped around me through the night is gone, leaving only the cold stone beneath my body. A shiver rolls through me, sweat clinging to my skin despite the chill, the remnants of fever still weighing me down. My limbs ache, my throat dry, but it’s the absence beside me that tightens my chest with something far worse than discomfort.

Dain is not here.

For a moment, I lie still, hoping, listening. Maybe he’s just beyond my reach, watching from the shadows. Maybe he’s waiting for me to wake before he speaks.

But the silence is thick, untouched by the sound of his breathing, his presence, his unbearable weight pressing against the cave.

I push up onto unsteady elbows, the shift sending a wave of dizziness crashing over me. My body protests, muscles stiff, head pounding, but I force myself to sit, to breathe, to focus.

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