Page 8 of Christa's Obsession

No, she doesn’t.

They’d gone and peeked, more than once, but the trees still protected Wanda from sight. She was fairly sure the troll that sat guard had known she was there. He’d not looked towards where they’d kept concealed, but something told her nothing got past him.

Every time they had left, her demon’s disgust grew stronger at her cowardice.

As they’d already had their rampage in Dusken once Silas had disappeared with Wanda in his arms, it was much easier to control her demon side—possibly.

We should have saved her, and you aren’t controlling me. I have no wish to frighten our sweet dryad. She has suffered enough at the hands of rampaging demons to last her a lifetime.

We couldn’t save her. We don’t have the power to heal her!Christa snapped, hating the truth of it.

Christa had done her research on dryad’s when Silas and her brother had found their blissful connection. Wanda was irrevocably bound to her trees. They were a part of her soul. Christa had witnessed firsthand the devastating effects of separation with her own brother. The blissful connection tied Dakata to Silas and the mighty oak in the forest. The three were one. They each needed the other to survive, which was why Dakata had moved to live in the forest.

He had resisted initially, even without knowing everything would change. Christa now understood his reluctance, and she had all the facts. To accept a blissful one who was a tree dryad meant tying oneself to a different life. Her demon side cared about none of it, and she nagged incessantly for Christa to return to Wanda and touch her to seal their bond.

I’m not nagging. I know what you feel. The desire for her, to connect with her and her trees. You wish to know what Dakata experiences with Silas and his tree, don’t lie.

Honestly, some days you can be a worse pain in my ass than my brothers.

The tingling laughter grated, and Christa worked diligently to shut out the annoying sound.

Yet her mind returned to Wanda, and those who had dared to harm her. The only solace Christa had was that when she had smelled those who had laid their claws on Wanda, she had taken great pleasure in tearing their fingers from the knucklebones. Their screams gave her some satisfaction, it just didn’t alter her situation.

The reality caused a clutch in her belly with the pure longing to see—touch—Wanda and assure herself she had healed and was safe.

Realizing her mind had wandered once more in a direction that made working impossible, Christa closed down her computer and tidied away the things on the desk, knowing that Scottwould do it for her if she didn’t. The demon was all kinds of fussy when it came to things being orderly.

Stalking to the door on six-inch heels, she collected her red woolen coat and slipped it on, flicking out her dark curls. Christa flipped off the light switch and exited the office, her luscious curves swaying as she tied the belt of the coat.

The corridors were empty, and the darkness outside the window revealed the lateness of the hour. At the curb minutes later, she considered her options. She had a home in the human realm and kept one in the demon realm, spending equal amounts of time in both.

The idea of going to the demon realm held no appeal when it meant she became cut off from Wanda. It was irrational when Wanda didn’t know she existed.

Had she felt anything in their presence?

We won’t know if you don’t go and see her. Take something to show we’re interested in getting to know her. A box of cakes, maybe? Chocolate?

I’m not taking dating advice from you.

She’s our blissful one, who said anything about dating? Those other women you went on dates with… if dates are what you want to call them, they were only interested in—

Don’t go there.

Why? They love what you can do with our tongue.

Christa’s cheeks warmed like the sun had touched them and her body tingled at the thought of…You’re doing this on purpose. Making me think about touching Wanda’s lush body.

It’s what is usually on your mind.

It is not.

With a thought, Christa translocated to the forest, her mind set on proving a point. She conjured a box of sweet pastries that she found particularly tasty, blocking her demon side. In her other hand she conjured a small bouquet of summer daisies.

“What would you be doing in the forest in those heels? You’ll break an ankle,” the troll murmured. He was sitting at the firepit close to the peach trees, which scented the air with their fragrance. Under it, though, was the scent of Wanda. A mix of peach and something soft and earthy.

“I came to see how Wanda is doing. I’m Dakata’s sister, Christa. I helped to rescue her.” Did that sound lame?

Dark, busy brows merged over stunning eyes that held Christa’s gaze.

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