Page 39 of To Hunt a Demon King

A random villager waved at me from across the square, and I smiled and waved back. Excited whispering broke out, and Hunt frowned.

“Don’t encourage them,” he growled, pulling me away from the square so he could hire horses.

“Encourage them how?” I asked, truly bewildered. “By being friendly?”

“You have no idea, do you?” Hunt asked, smirking down at me. “Oh, you’re going to hate this.”

“Hate what?” I asked, frowning up at him as he loomed over me.

Hunt’s smirk widened to a grin. “They think you're my bride,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“What?” I exclaimed. “Why would you tell them that?”

“I didn’t,” Hunt said, turning back toward the farrier, who rented out some of the local horses to travelers. “They assumed, and I didn’t correct them.”

“Why wouldn’t you correct them?” I asked again, jogging after him as I looked around in horror at the smiling, friendly faces.

“Because it amuses me,” he said, smirking again as he ducked into the little shop attached to the stable where the farrier conducted business. ”And I knew it would bother you.”

“Why would you be taking your bride to the Demon King?” I hissed, grinding my teeth as Hunt rang the bell for service.

“Probably for the King’s blessing,” Hunt said evenly. “Even mortals like to follow tradition sometimes, especially the important ones.”

“So you are important?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and giving him a scathing look.

“I already told you I was, Red,” he said, not looking at me as he studied a display of horseshoes on the counter.

“Why would someone important be running around in the Bloodwood?” I hissed, trying to make sure the farrier wouldn’t hear our argument. Hunt turned, crowding me in the tiny space.

“Probably for the same reason a witch was running around in the Bloodwood,” he rumbled, his voice lowering to match mine and coming out far more silky and sensual than mine had. “I was hunting for something.”

The farrier coughed, and Hunt spun, greeting him with the same polite friendliness he had met everyone in Mithloria with. I leaned against the wall stewing in my own embarrassment, contemplating how this must look to the villagers. Sharing a room, shopping together, emerging from the Bloodwood. No wonder they assumed we were engaged.

“I am sorry, my Lord,” said the farrier in an apologetic voice. “But I’ve only the one just now, what with May Day and all. And he’ll need shoeing before he’s fit to travel.” My heart gave a little leap. Did this mean we wouldn’t be able to leave before the festival?

“That’s fine,” Hunt said, dropping gold on the counter with a clink. “Can he be ready by tonight?”

“The earliest is tomorrow, I’m afraid,” said the farrier sheepishly. “The festival, and all.” Hunt sighed.

“Fine, tomorrow then,” he said, turning and nudging me out of the shop.

“Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord!” the man called from behind us. Hunt’s glower was as dark as my smile was bright.

“So we can stay?” I asked excitedly, clapping my hands and jumping a little as I looked around Mithloria, the little village festooned with flowers and garlands. Hunt’s face darkened even more.

“I suppose we have no choice,” Hunt said, glaring at me. His glare morphed into something akin to an evil grin, and my own smile faltered.

“Why are you grinning?” I asked hesitantly, as he took my arm and guided me back toward the little inn.

“Because,” Hunt said, still grinning wickedly as he nodded politely to the villagers we passed. “Now you're actually going to have to pretend to be my bride.”

Chapter 15

After peppering Hunt with about a thousand questions, he finally admitted that I wouldn't really have to do anything special as his fake bride, but that I shouldn’t tell the villagers it was a lie.

“First of all, because it will upset them,” he said, when I had asked why I would need to be subjected to this charade. “And secondly, because payback’s a bitch, Red.”

“And why don’t you have to get dressed up?” I protested, shouting to Hunt through the door of the bathing chamber.

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