Page 33 of Hunted By Her Demon Wolves

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GORGO PACED THE ENTRANCEto his cavern, a deep hole within the desert, as wind blew gritty sand in his eye. How he resented that witch for forcing his hand. He loathed his useless lechers even more. His flames had shown him their mission had failed—for the four he’d sent out had dwindled to three. First, he lost his jorogumo, and now a lecher! How much more would he lose before securing the virgin witch? He’d scried the jorogumo in his flames, curled up in the shadow of a sandy dune as if it had died, but it couldn’t have been dead, for its body would’ve disappeared, resurrecting in the third dimension. He had no time to send his lechers to retrieve his spider, not when he had to get the girl.

He stood at the furthest edge of safety. One more step, and he’d be without the protection of his flames. The zombie wolves dragged their feet across the sand, tumbling down the incline toward him, moaning and grumbling. Though the entrance to his lair was hidden by magic, his lechers knew the way, for not only did they follow the scent of his blood and the promise of food, but they’d been spellcast to find the way home.

Once the wolves crossed the invisible barrier, he stalked up to the alpha, staring into his solitary eye. “Where is she?”

“Girl hide,” the lecher slurred.

Flames of rage shot through his veins. “One of you is missing.” He snarled at the zombie wolves. “Where is he?”

“Gone,” they simultaneously answered, their eyes staring vacantly past him.

Damn. That lecher had been his favorite, the one with the best sense of smell. He could root out souls hiding in the deepest crevices. “Utterly useless!” He threw up his hands, magic sparking off his talons. “Must I do everything myself?”

They looked at him, their mouths falling open like baby birds chirping for food. “Eat.”

“Very well.” He gritted his decaying teeth, knowing full well what he had to do in order to give his lechers the best chance at finding this witch, though he loathed feeding them with every dark stitch in his soul. “I will feed you, but if you don’t bring back my pearl, I will personally cut off your limbs!”

They groaned their agreement.

Holding out his arm, he unsheathed a talon and cut a long slash across his scaled, crimson skin. Black blood pooled around his wrist. “On your knees!” he commanded.

The lechers fell to the soft sand, their bones grinding and popping with the movement.

He went to the head alpha first. The beast’s long, gray tongue darted out and flattened against his arm like slapping a putrid, bloated fish corpse across stone. Gorgo turned away, disgusted by the greedy slurping sounds and the burning poison racing up his arm like it was engulfed in flame.

After fur sprouted along the lecher’s crooked spine, he jerked his arm away, ignoring the beast’s cries. He repeated the same with the second alpha before cautiously approaching the gamma. The smallest of the three lechers was always the greediest, feeding in a frenzy like a demon vulture.

Before he let the gamma feed off him, he snarled a warning. “You must stop when I command you.”

The lecher let out a grunt of understanding before falling on his arm like a cannibal at a feast of corpses. Gorgo hissed when the burning became too much. He tried to pull away, but the beast latched on, digging his grimy talons into his back.

“Enough!” Gorgo cried out, his world spinning as dizziness threatened to consume him.

But the beast refused to let go.

Despite his waning energy, Gorgo called to his flames, channeling his last dregs of magic and hitting the beast hard with a blast of energy. The creature fell off with a yelp, landing on all fours with the dexterity of a cat. The fur along the lecher’s spine stood on end as he hunched over, glaring at him with those hungry, glowing eyes.

“You will learn your place, pup,” Gorgo seethed, “or by the flame, I will cast you into oblivion.” He straightened, snarling, as the lecher hung his head with a whimper. After drinking more than his share, he had grown far more fur than his brothers. Gorgo didn’t regret it. That would only make him faster, more powerful. Maybe this time they’d finally catch his prize.

If only Gorgo could scry the girl in his flames, he wouldn’t need to stoop to such levels, but visions of her were less predictable than a troll’s moods.

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CADMUS STARED DOWNat his mate, fear constricting his lungs. Those boils on her knuckles had scabbed over, and the skin around it had turned brittle and cold, just like the body of a corpse. He couldn’t let this zombie sickness claim her. He snatched the black claw that she’d dropped. It was bigger than a wolf’s claw, one perhaps that had belonged to a protector. His nostrils flared as he sniffed it. It smelled odd, yet familiar, and he recognized the dark scent of magic deep beneath its dried vein. Bennu had said this claw might be able to heal her, but how? He squeezed it in his fist, the cool tip digging into his palm.

He spun around, magic at the ready when a shadow passed behind him. He let out a low growl when a catlike creature with human features bound into the cave on all fours.

“Who are you?” he hissed, prepared to blast her back.

When Bennu let out a soft moan, and the cat eyed her with interest, he held up a hand, magic crackling in his palm.

“Relax,” the creature purred, her tail casually flicking in the air, though the fur on her back stood on end. “I am a friend of Daeva’s.”

“Daeva?” He looked over the demon cat’s shoulder for any sign of his mate’s sister. “Is she here?”

She frowned. “No.” She stood on two hind legs, her long tail balancing her. “I saw four lechers go over the ridge and then three return.”

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