My jaw clenched. “First of all, I do not need you to survive. I’ve gotten along just fine without you for thirty years.”
He laughed dryly. “In the earthly realm. Hell is different.”
“You’re ruled by an evil, narcissistic tyrant whose brainwashed minions stroke his ego and help him get away with whatever he wants. If you have laws, they sure as shit don’t apply to him. Believe me, it’s not that different.”
“And your second point?”
“Second, next time we have a choice of challenges that’ll likely kill me, I’d rather battle a boss-level dragon than take an emotional hit like that.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t we go another way?”
“Because Lucifer and his ‘brainwashed minions’ know that too. Your demeanor makes your preference obvious, so I chose the least likely route.” He jerked his head to the left, indicating I should follow him down an alley.
We entered the town, and he picked up his pace. “I believed our blood bond would protect you. I thought I could share my immunity to the forest, but the bond works both ways. Your pain numbed my resistance. I didn’t intend for you to suffer.”
“Is that an apology?”
“No.”
I followed him down the alley, and we made a right at the first corner. The squat buildings here were made of clay bricks and mud, the streets of cobblestone and rubble…a stark contrast to the city he’d taken me to before. Aside from the humid heat and sulfurous stench, it felt like we’d stepped into a sixteenth-century English town, frozen in time.
He stopped at the next corner and peered right then left. “Your bag is in the house two blocks ahead.”
An air raid siren wailed from somewhere above. Or maybe it was below. Hell, it sounded like it came from all around me and inside my head at the same time, chilling me to the marrow. Discord’s hands curled into fists, and the tendons in his neck tightened.
His reaction made my heart dip into my stomach, and I bit the inside of my cheek. I knew we were screwed, but I just had to ask anyway. “What does that mean?”
He let out a slow breath. “It means the hunt is on.”
“Well, shit.”
13
DISCORD
“I suggest we run.” I leaned forward, checking the streets for adversaries, but Cinder took my suggestion without hesitation. She darted toward my secret residence, leaving me no choice but to follow.
The siren still blaring, we slipped inside before the locals could decipher the signal. Cinder went for the light switch, but I caught her hand, holding it tightly as the message blasted through my psyche, filling my mind with the rules of the game and information about the bounty.
She swayed and clutched her head. “Holy mother of magic. Ouch.”
“Everyone in the realm now knows we’re fugitives.” I removed my mucus-stained jacket and paced to the closet before tossing it onto the floor. The clothing here, though magically preserved, was four centuries old and out of fashion, but what did it matter? I was an outlaw in my own land.
I grabbed a pair of pants from a shelf and shook them out. The coarse fabric didn’t stretch at all, and its roughness made the clothes I currently wore feel like butter against my skin. I sighed and dropped the pants on top of my discarded jacket. It appeared I’d be on the run in formal attire.
Cinder took off her boots and swung her bag over her shoulder. “Where can I change?”
I pointed to the bathroom, and she stepped inside, kicking the door behind her. It didn’t close all the way, leaving me an obstructed view of her as she undressed. She tugged the shredded dress over her head, and blood rushed to my groin. It seemed Belira had neglected to lend her any undergarments.
She bent down and stepped into the satiny swath of fabric I’d found in her pack. My, how underwear had changed over the centuries. My dick hardened, and I licked my lips before turning around and beating a fist against the wall.
Before my thoughts had turned to a hollow void in the dark prison, I had vowed that I would never associate with a witch again. My hatred and distrust of Cinder’s kind hadn’t waned, yet I found myself inexplicably drawn to her.
The desire to protect her, to provide for her, and to make her my own overwhelmed me. It had to be the blood bond fabricating these emotions. She had done nothing but cause me pain and strife from the moment she resurrected me, and I would take pleasure in her demise if only it wouldn’t mean my own ending as well.
A growl rumbled in my chest, the anger that consumed me shifting its focus to myself. How could I have let this happen? I replayed the moment she vanquished me in my mind. She’d moved quickly, plunging the dagger into my heart without considering the consequences.
