Page 15 of The Demon God's Desire
I either keep going or I die right here in the sand. But that’s not happening. Not today.
Hearthkeeper, I beg.Please, guide me to the camp. Help me.
I feel warmth trickle over my skin again and I know she’s listening. She is my goddess, my patron. Whenever I need her, she’s there for me.
But right now I’m still struggling. I can’t seem to muster the strength to go on.
I find myself collapsing and passing out.
But then, through the darkness...I feel pressure on my chest, as though there’s a body there. Fighting my urge to pass out again, I open my eyes to find someone hovering over me.
I don’t know what happens next but I react on instinct, grabbing them and putting them into a headlock. I can’t take a risk and let them hurt me! I have to protect myself!
Flipping them over, I pin them with my body and hold them down. “Don’t think you can take me,” I growl.
But suddenly everything around me starts spinning. I’m about to pass out again.
I nearly collapse on top of the body beneath me, unable to stay awake long enough to assess the situation.
Dammit, why is this happening? My body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. My vision swims in and out of focus. Everything aches and I know I’ve lost a lot of blood. I can’t possibly hold off much longer but instinct has me fighting the threat above me, trying to survive.
“Stay away,” I try to say, but it comes out in a gurgle. Blood spills from my mouth and I cough it up, trying not to choke.
“Shh,” I hear a voice and I blink, looking down. My vision swims back into focus and I see an agelios underneath me.
Shit. Am I dead? I must be. I died and now there’s a spirit guide that’s come to take me away to Helias. A part of me is sad that I never got to accomplish all that I wanted.
I never met anyone special and fell in love.
Where did that thought come from?
I blink again and I realize it’s not a spirit here to guide me to Helias, but a beautiful human woman. I gape at her, trying to gather my thoughts. What is a human doing out here, this close to Jurtil? Is she a slave?
She doesn’t appear to be any kind of threat—but then again I know better than to ever underestimate a potential enemy.
As soon as I think that, the woman underneath me bucks me hard before scrambling away from me. I go flying, having lost strength from losing so much blood.
I hit the sand hard, flat on my back, wincing as my injuries make themselves more fully known. I have to cough to regain my breath and more blood comes up. Turning my head, I spit it out on the sand below me.
“Who are you?” the woman demands, looking as though she’s about to bolt at any second with her hands planted on the ground and the way she’s hovering over the sand. “Where are you from? How did you get here?”
I struggle to sit up, my injuries making it hard to move without immense pain. “I’m not telling you shit,” I say, spitting out more blood.
“Where are you from?” she asks again, inching a little closer.
“Far away,” I tell her, trying to be as vague as possible.
“Are you from the city?”
“No.”
“Were you sent here? Who sent you here?”
I heave, nearly vomiting as I finally stagger to my feet and almost fall from the strain on my body. But I ignore her questions.
“What is your name?”
I don’t see the harm in giving her that, at least. “Guilri,” I tell her.