Page 17 of The Demon God's Desire
“If you even think about trying to put me in a headlock pal, I’ll actually be forced to kill you,” she says, reaching back to me so she holds onto my hand. It’s strangely comforting to have a connection with another being.
I snort at her words. “Today is the only day you could possibly hope to beat me in a fight, woman,” I tell her.
She snorts and I think I catch the faintest trace of a smile on her lips before I pass out again.
8
BRIDGET
When Guilri orders me to heal him again, I almost refuse out of spite. Why should I take orders from an overgrown bully of a dark elf? Because that’s clearly what he is. I know a bully when I see one.
Still. I can’t help the pity I feel towards him. He’s like an injured animal—lashing out in hurt and refusing to see that help is right in front of his face.
I warn him that if he makes another move on me, I will kill him this time. When he jokes that today is the only day I could hope to do that, I find myself inadvertently smiling.
Unfortunately for me, the dark elf collapses again, passing out once more.
Which means I’m going to have to drag him back to camp.
Well. Shit.
I hoist his arm up over my shoulder, propping him up so he’s half against me, the rest of him dragging the ground with every step.
Oh gods be damned, this elf is heavy! Why did I agree to help him? I’m cursing at myself for being so stupidly compassionate for an injured being. It’s all my fault that I’m in this situation now.
Still, even though I’m quite pissed at how ornery he is, and quite put out by how damnedheavyhe is, I could never ignore a person in need.
It didn’t help that despite his numerous injuries, he might have been one of the most handsome people I’ve ever encountered either. He’s tall, as are all dark elves, but he’s absolutely stacked with muscle. His appearance would be intimidating if he was at full strength.
Lucky for me that he’s too weak to do anything because if I’d come across him in the wild without injury, I would likely already be dead.
He’s also got long, icy white hair that’s tucked back into a bun. The hair is dirty and in need of a wash but it’s still somehow soft when it brushes the skin of my shoulder. His light gray skin contrasts sharply with his pitch-black eyes.
A few of the shorter strands in the front of his hair are threaded with oblong, steel beads. He’s got scars everywhere, including a few that crisscross his face. Somehow that only adds to the allure.
I don’t even want to think about how ridiculous I am for being attracted to this man, so I focus instead on moving step by slow step back towards camp. My supplies bag is only half full of what I meant to get but I can’t worry about that now.
As I approach the camp, I spot Allan lurking around the edge, near where I left from. Has he been waiting for me to get back? I clench my jaw, trying not to get upset at that.
There are others with him. Dean, Andrew, Marcus...they must have been tending to the garden, I realize. I push down my irritation and swallow my pride.
The men rush over towards me and slow when they see what I’m half-carrying, half dragging. I watch them recoil, eyes widening and starting to shout about it.
“What the fuck is this?” Andrew demands, pointing at the dark elf in my arms.
“Why have you brought it here?” Marcus yells. “Drop that thing right there! We’ll take care of it for you!”
“Were you attacked?” Allan rushes up to me, checking me over. “Are there more dark elves on the way to ambush us?”
“Guys! It’s just one dark elf. He was already half-dead when I found him,” I tell them. “He needs medical attention.”
“Don’t even think about bringing him here!” Andrew says, crossing his arms. “Where there’s one, there’s always more!”
“He’s probably already dead, look at him,” Marcus insists.
“You can’t bring him in here,” Dean says with narrowed eyes at the elf. “Think of the children!”
I breathe out hard and steel my spine, turning my eyes on all the men. “He’s not dead yet but hewillbe if I don’t act fast, okay?”