Page 59 of The Demon's Pet

“I’m not a bad fighter,” I said. “I did martial arts, and my wolf form is strong—”

Both Griffin and Os just laughed, making me irritated.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Os said. “I’m sure you’re strong. But no wolf can take on a minotaur.”

I touched the stone at my throat, feeling oddly nervous as the minotaurs got closer to Sam.

He was huge, muscled, but those creatures had to be ten feet tall, and there were four of them.

“I’m notonlya wolf,” I said, holding the collar. “Os, if you took this off…”

“I’m not going to risk you exposing yourself as a demon just for minotaurs,” Os said, shaking his head. “That needs to stay on, or you could hurt even yourself.”

That made me shut up instantly. But my stomach was still in knots over Sam. Not that I should care about that stupid, rude, psychopathic angel.

But no one should be impregnated to death.

“Sam’s got this,” Os said. “I was only worried when he wasn’t here.”

“Aren’t you a celestial too?” Griffin asked. “Why is he stronger than you? You’re both gods.”

“Demigods,” Os said. “Archangels aren’t fully elder gods, or we wouldn’t be able to visit this realm.”

“Ah,” Griffin said, looking mildly confused. His huge white wings beat up and down, stirring up the air and seeming to almost go to the beat of my heart.

Sam appeared to be shit-talking down below, though it was hard to hear above the whooshing of Griffin’s wings.

Os noticed me leaning down to try and hear, and he waved a hand. “I can magnify the sound.”

“Come on,” I heard Sam yell, spinning a sword once in each hand as he approached the first minotaur, about ten feet in front of him. “Show me who you are.”

“He says that a lot,” Griffin says.

“Because he won’t be punished for killing if there’s a mortal sin being committed.”

“But the minotaurs have a right to anyone on their territory,” I said. “Right, Os?”

Os shook his head. “Not exactly. The person they want to mate with is allowed to try and defend themselves.”

“Are they attracted to celestials?” Griffin asked as one of the minotaurs made a crude epithet to Sam, making all of us grimace.

“I don’t know,” Os said. “A lot of things are attracted to Sam wherever we go, regardless of his terrible personality.”

“I heard that,” Sam yelled from below, looking up to glare at us.

“It’s just that most things can’t defend themselves from a minotaur. But Sam can.”

“Do they realize that?” Griffin asked.

“Probably not,” Os admitted. He looked at both of us, his purple wings beating the air. “He’s going to start soon. So if you don’t want to watch, I suggest you look away—”

But it was too late. With a yell, Sam had moved toward the minotaur closest and, with one clean slice, cut the monster’s right arm off.

Blood sprayed from the wound as the monster let out a bellow, and all three of its friends closed in.

It was hard to even see Sam in the melee, as all the minotaurs jumped him at once, but his two swords were constantly moving, and I heard bellows of pain as more limbs fell and more blood sprayed.

I didn’t even know what belonged to whom as Sam cut off legs, arms, and heads, and minotaurs fell to the ground, spraying blood in all directions, painting the stream and the ground around it in crimson.

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