Page 37 of To Hunt a Demon King

I sighed, deciding to make the best of my hopefully temporary imprisonment. I investigated the little bathing chamber and found a tub, with pipes that must lead to a well or a tank, because water flowed out of them when I turned a handle. It was even warm, and I became unreasonably excited to have a bath. I momentarily hesitated, wondering if it might be demon magic that made the warm water come out from the wall. Ultimately, I decided that my need for a bath outweighed my scruples.

I grimaced, realizing I would have to put on the same dirty clothes when I was clean, but there wasn’t much to be done about that without any magical elements. I closed the door to the chamber, hoping Hunt didn’t return until I was dressed. I eagerly climbed into the tub, sighing as the warm water enveloped me.

I must have been more exhausted than I felt, because a knock at the door startled me out of the doze I had fallen into.

“Did you drown, Red?” came a voice through the door. Hunt had clearly returned, and he sounded almost back to normal, only a slight edge of irritation to his voice.

“I’m fine,” I called back, quickly dunking my head to wash my hair. There were some little bars of soap on the ledge of the tub, and I scrubbed quickly so I could get out of the now tepid bath.

“There are clean clothes out here,” Hunt said from behind the door. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” I heard the door to the room closing again and took the opportunity to get out of the bath. There were towels on a little ledge attached to the wall, and I luxuriated in the soft, fluffiness after days of being cold and scratchy.

Emerging from the room, I found that my dirty clothes were nowhere to be found. Frowning, I examined the clean ones that had been stacked neatly on the bed. There was a blouse that looked like it would probably fit fine, and a kind of bodice that must go over the blouse. But instead of skirts, there were a pair of trousers made from soft leather, very much like Hunt’s. I frowned, having never donned trousers before.

Witches wore skirts, even for riding, as it was deemed feminine, bringing us closer to the Goddess. I wasn’t sure they would even fit. The legs seemed like they might be too snug around my thighs.

To my surprise, the trousers had some stretch. They were a little tight, clinging a bit too closely to all the places I felt sure were not appropriate for trousers to cling to, but they would do. At least they were soft and warm. The waistband was a bit too snug with the front laced, so I left it loose, draping the blouse over the front of them to hide the indecency.

Hunt returned as I was braiding my hair, resorting to using my fingers as a comb since I couldn’t find one in the room. He had a bowl of something that steamed gently, and a chunk of some kind of brown bread.

“I brought you food,” he said, pointedly not looking at me as he set the food down on the little table next to the bed.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to sound genuine, and maybe a little meek in the hopes it would mollify him. He raised a brow at me, finally looking my way, then strode into the bathing chamber without another word. He shut the door and I heard water running. Sighing, I ate my dinner alone in silence, the only sounds were splashing from the bathing room and the crackling of the fire in the hearth.

Having eaten, I crawled beneath the covers of the bed. I was determined that I would not be sleeping on the floor, and I was prepared to stake my claim to the warm softness that enveloped me.

Hunt emerged from the bathing room, hair damp from his bath and wearing absolutely nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. My mouth went a little dry at the sight of his bare upper body, thickly muscled and scarred in places where he had clearly taken bites or blades. I watched him as he fished some clean clothes from a pile. He had clearly gone shopping while I was locked in the room.

“You’re staring, Red,” he said, grinning deviously at my heated face. “Do I have drool on my chin?” I scowled, throwing a pillow at him.

He chuckled as he caught it and placed it neatly back on the foot of the bed. “Better avert your delicate, virgin eyes if you don’t want to be scandalized,” he said, dropping the towel. I blushed even more furiously and looked away quickly, although not quickly enough to miss seeing the curve of a firm buttocks. I stared hard at the ceiling and prayed to the Goddess for strength and delivery from this insufferable man.

I heard the door locking and risked a glance, relieved to see that Hunt was fully dressed.

“I’m not sleeping on the floor,” he said, leaning against the door. Akela huffed at him, and Hunt obliged by leaning down and scratching his head, clearly having forgiven the wolf for siding with me.

“Then you’ll have to share,” I said, raising a brow at him in challenge. My face still felt warm, and I pulled the covers up to hide me completely.

“Fine by me,” he said, seeming totally unconcerned. He flopped heavily on to the bed, taking up far more space than was necessary. I let out a little cry of protest and he chuckled darkly.

“Why not rent an extra room if you’re so fabulously wealthy?” I asked, trying to wrestle the blankets over to my side of the bed.

“Because,” he growled, turning to face me properly for the first time in hours. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“Fine,” I said, trying to slow my racing heart and get myself under control. Something about his proximity in the bed and his lack of self-consciousness heated my blood, and I tamped the feeling down by drawing on anger. “But you sleep over the blankets.”

“Fine,” he agreed, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes as if totally immune to my annoyance. I expected him to make some jab about my delicate sensibilities or something, but he just lay there completely unbothered. It was infuriating.

“You locked me in,” I accused. I was determined to pick a fight, it seemed, and Hunt was determined not to fight with me.

“I did,” he said, sounding utterly unconcerned about it. “And I doubt even you can really blame me for it.”

“You clearly don’t know me all that well,” I said, turning on my side to face away from him.

He huffed out an unamused laugh. “Believe me Red,” he said darkly. “I’m aware.”

???

“Can we please stay?” I begged as Hunt dragged me around the next day, buying supplies for our continued journey. Akela had gone off to hunt with Artemis in the Bloodwood, and the village, which Hunt finally told me was called Mithloria, was out in full force preparing for the May Day feast, and their excited enthusiasm was contagious.

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