I gasped at the sensation of the cool grass beneath my feet, and I dug my taloned toes into the earth, rooting myself, lest the prison attempt to suck me back through the veil. I fisted my hands and then splayed my fingers, cat-like claws extending from my fingertips before retracting inside them.
I tilted my head, turning it from side to side, my vertebrae cracking into place as I straightened my spine and inhaled my first breath in centuries. The scents of pine, salt, and earth greeted my senses, and I turned around to face the powerful witch who had freed me.
Her beauty slammed into me like a hammer to my chest, taking the breath from my lungs and stilling my newly beating heart. Long hair in a shade of rose I had never seen hung in loose waves down to her waist. Her pink lips formed a perfect bow, and her dark honey eyes seemed to penetrate to my soul.
Her style of clothing indicated centuries had passed since I’d last occupied this realm, her shirt and pants clinging to her body, revealing feminine curves and ample hips. Her skin appeared soft and smooth, and my gaze snapped to her left arm, where my mark glowed red, pulsing in response to my breaths.
Her mark on me. Mine on her. A dangerous bond, indeed.
She raked her gaze down my form and rested a hand on her hip before looking into my eyes. “Hello, Discord.”
I arched a brow but said nothing in return as I opened my senses, allowing the energy of both the realm and the witch to wash over me.
“Can you not speak?” She closed the thick book she held and slipped it into a bag with two straps. “I believe a thank you is in order.”
I tilted my head, studying her. Strength and power emanated from her aura, but the darkness I expected to find in her soul did not exist. Why, then, did she summon a Prince of Hell and use blood magic to bind us?
“A light witch with questionable morals. You know not what you’ve done.” I stepped toward her but met the wall of a containment spell, which stopped me short.
She crossed her arms. “I know exactly what I’ve done, what I’m doing, and what you’re going to do for me.”
I pressed my palm against the magical wall and chuckled. She was new at the dark arts. I could break through in seconds. “My mark on your arm means you belong to me,” I lied.
She swung the bag over her shoulder. “Mine on your skull means you belong to me.”
“To what end?” I extended my claws and drummed them against the invisible wall. It shimmered with each tap.
She swallowed hard, the first indication of her wariness. “I freed you from your prison. You owe me a favor.”
“What gave you that idea?” I laid my other hand against the wall and drummed both sets of claws against it, gently weakening the magic bit by bit.
She flinched, attempting to hide her reaction by straightening her spine. “That’s how demons work. I did something for you, so you have to do something for me.”
“You want to make a deal, but…” Tap, tap, tap. The magic grew thinner. “I am a Prince of Hell. I do no one’s bidding.”
She laced her other arm through the bag’s strap, situating it on her back. “I won’t let you out of the circle unless you do, so you might want to change your tune.”
“You mean this circle?” I jabbed my claws into the wall and tore it open, the magic unraveling around me as I kicked her ring of salt and prowled toward her.
She gasped, her eyes widening, and she backpedaled into a tree.
“Here is your deal.” I wrapped my fingers around her neck and squeezed, pressing her harder against the trunk. “You have bound me to yourself, so I will not kill you. But the last thing I need is a wretched witch following me around. Leave me alone, and I will not make your life a hell on earth.”
“No deal,” she wheezed, her pulse sprinting beneath my grasp, betraying her fear.
I growled and released her throat, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her. “You know not what I can do.”
“I’ll send you back to your prison if you don’t help me.” Her mouth tightened, a tendon in her neck flaring as she ground her teeth.
“Go ahead and try.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of.” She bent an elbow, showing me the fireball in her hand.
“I was born in the depths of Hell itself. Are you so naïve to believe witch fire can harm me?”
Her nostrils flared, and she slammed the flames against my side in a feeble attempt to cause harm. Perhaps she was so naïve.
The idea intrigued me, or maybe it was the fact this was the first interaction I’d had with another being in centuries. Either way, I felt something. Intrigue, annoyance, and yes, a bit of superiority, which was my right, but underlying it all, I felt the primal, feral need to plant my mouth on hers and make her mine.
