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“You don’t remember me?” he asked.
Both of my brows lifted up my forehead. My hero interacted with this witch and lived to tell the tale? Maybe that was a good sign. Dad hired someone that could handle himself and Deidamia. Maybe get me out of here alive.
Her laughter was soft and feminine. I didn’t like it.
My hero was very bossy when it came to me intruding in his savior’s activities, but I couldn’t stop myself from pushing the door open.
The wind from the window tossed my hair around my shoulders, and thunder rolled in the background like a warning to turn back.
My hero’s gaze met mine as he stood in-between Deidamia and my lifeless body.
Deidamia didn’t stir.
Did she not see me? It didn’t seem like it. Maybe because my need for a hero was giving me pathetic dreams that were a figment of my imagination.
Deidamia shifted her weight. “How could I forget my first immortal?” she chuckled. “Well, besides myself.”
Immortal? My hero couldn’t die. Even better.
My hero’s heavy jaw tightened, and I watched as his thick throat moved when he swallowed. “I’m nothing to you,” he said, his voice gravelly and full of emotion.
Deidamia chuckled. “Oh, you’re just as serious as you were all those decades ago. I hope you’re not crying over that woman—”
“Don’t,” he yelled, lifting his sword toward her, “Don’t you dare, witch.”
“Oh, you got me there,” she said, moving slowly around the room. “Why are you here? To avenge your wife? Your daughter? Or to save this little girl over here? Maggie told me someone was coming, but I couldn’t see who. I can’t say I’m not utterly surprised to see you of all people, but I am pleased. I’m glad you’ve made it all this time. Wait—” she chuckled. “That’s right. You can’t die, can you?”
I held my breath.
My hero’s face contorted into pain. His nostrils moved as he took deep breaths to control himself.
“I’m here to save Josie from the claws of a manipulative cunt that thinks she rules the world. I’m here to avenge my family that you ripped away from me, and for the life I never had because of you.”
Deidamia lifted her arms out beside her. “Sticks and stones, my boy. If you think you can hurt me—”
He tossed his sword so swiftly at her face that he nipped the side of her cheek. Blood oozed outward but only for a few minutes. She wiped it away with a small smile on her face. “I’m immortal, like you, Kellan.”
Kellan. His name rolled over my tongue and tasted like chocolate when I mouthed it to myself.
“Tell me,” she said. “How many times did you try to kill yourself?”
He didn’t answer, instead he lifted his arm, and a small knife formed in his hand. “You’re right, Deidamia. I tried so many times that I lost count. How many times have you looked in the mirror and seen yourself as the ugly devil that you are?”
Deidamia chuckled. “Only when I realize that I didn’t kill you when I had the chance.”
Kellan dodged left and then bent down, sending his knife at her robe.
She lifted her head and let out a blood-curling scream that oddly enough felt satisfying to hear.
When she looked back, he was holding me—the asleep me—in his arms. The look they exchanged envied the devil himself.
“You won’t make it out of this realm with her,” she said, bending down to pry the knife from her leg. “And if you do, I’ll kill every last one of those greedy, filthy humans that stole from me.”
Kellan glanced down at me. Something soft passed over his features, and it warmed my stomach. “And I’ll protect them because this time, you can’t kill me like before. I do not fear death, Deidamia. I fear not avenging my family and letting you get away with taking everything from me.”
The corner of Deidamia’s lip turned into a snarl. She lifted her hands and shot what looked like green electricity out of her palms.
But he was already gone out of the window. I raced over, looking down at him swiftly moving toward the Dark Woods.
