Page 143 of The Demon's Pet

My heart felt squeezed like someone had a fist around it. Sam’s body and face were shaded by black robes, but I could sense there was something very wrong about him.

“I don’t know,” Orpheus said. “I will have to tend to him. All of you go. Now.” Based on the way Orpheus looked down at Sam, I could tell he cared deeply about him.

But how did they know each other?

Still, what mattered to me more at this moment was Sam.

“I’m coming with you,” I said. “This is my fault.”

“There’s nothing you can do about this, mortal,” Orpheus snapped at me. “I doubt this is your fault because master Samael can’t be forced to undertake anything. But we must be alone for now.”

He then turned at the front of the room where the altar was and disappeared into a hallway that led to the right and out of sight.

Os turned to me, along with the other figure, whose white robes were streaked with blood, and I realized it was one of the angels I’d met the day I’d been in jail.

“Mor?” I asked.

The handsome face that was almost too delicate gave me a worn smile. “Ah. The wolf shifter from the prison.”

I frowned at that.

Mor folded his arms and walked closer to me, frowning and moving in an intimidating circle around me. “What does Sam see in you that he would go so far for you?”

My face burned with embarrassment because even I didn’t know.

Mor leaned in close, deeply scenting me.

“Back off,” Griffin said. “Or face me.”

Mor turned to him, and his face was instantly amused. “A pet!” He walked over to Griffin and put a hand in his hair, ruffling it. “Good doggie. You being a good guard dog, boy?”

Griffin went red, whether from anger or blushing, I wasn’t sure. He swatted Mor’s hand away, and Mor stepped back.

“Things sure got interesting for Sam while I was away,” Mor said, shaking his head. His eyes met mine, a sharp silver. “So why did you almost get him killed?”

I swallowed.

“It wasn’t Cleo’s fault,” Griffin said. “She was tricked.”

“Hm,” Mor said, not convinced. He snapped his fingers, and his outfit changed to a blue tunic and flowing blue pants, plus soft slippers. He faced me again. “I don’t trust you at all. Sam stuck his neck out for you, even though you’re just a lowly demon, and the next time I see him, he’s a beaten pulp of a man. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now and get this over with.”

“There’s no need for that,” Os said, nudging Mor back from me. “Also, I wouldn’t threaten Cleo if I were you. Sam doesn’t like it.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like seeing my friend beaten to a pulp because someone didn’t follow his advice about staying the fuck away from a fucking fae prince. They’re fucking treacherous,” Mor said.

“Hey, watch your language,” Os said. “Zadis doesn’t speak for all fae. He was much more messed up than any of us knew. Dabbling in demon powers. Cleo couldn’t have done anything to stop this.”

But deep down, guilt was making it almost too hard to breathe.

I hadn’t listened. I’d let my fear of Sam, after that execution, ruin everything for us.

I’d run to Zadis. It was all my fault.

Even now, I wanted to run to Sam, beg his forgiveness, and ask why he went so far.

“I didn’t think that guy could get hurt,” Griffin said. “He killed Zadis without even getting scratched, and Zadis was a prince.”

“Zarris is a high priest, equal to a king in the fae realm,” Os said. “With his gems, and his grief over the loss of his brother, he was a strong opponent. Also, Sam had used most of his energy on the previous fight.”

---