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This time, she landed with a hard thwack right on her butt, silently thanking the extra cushion she’d picked up after her divorce. Her bastard ex had come down on her about her weight pretty hard the last year they’d been married, and she’d never been so miserable.
A naturally chubby chick, Caro did not appreciate someone managing her diet. Of course, the famine had ended the second she’d left, and those few pounds she lost had come back soon after, and had just then saved her ass from a harsh landing.
Hurray for snack packs.
The tablet she had only just replaced flew out of the wooden crate labeled for the university. The stone glowed as it floated, as if it had some sort of back light. Her mouth hung open as it shook and spun, already levitating in the air.
“This can’t be happening!”
More light emanated from the hieroglyphs themselves, and they started moving along with what looked like a button, like an indent in the stone. She gasped, shielding her eyes as the glow grew too bright and a sudden wind picked up.
Now that she thought about it, Carolina’s finger had felt something when she’d lifted the stone. She must have pushed that hidden depression and caused this—whatever this was.
Little by little, smoke spiraled out of the tablet, growing in size and intensity. Dust motes flew around her, and the deafening sound seemed to increase as the smoke took shape, swirling until it resembled a cloaked man.
Only his eyes—outlined in dark kohl, and feet, which were covered in black sandals with metal shin guards and leather straps, were visible. The shroud he wore was the color of midnight, but it did nothing to hide the rippling muscles or menacing frown in his black eyes.
“Holyfuckingshitwhatthefuckingfuckareyou?”
Carolina scrambled backwards on her hands and feet. She hit the wall with her back, might have bumped her head as well, but who could tell? She almost hoped she hit her head. Maybe that could explain this vivid hallucination.
Her eyes went wide, and she was whimpering. This was not a proud moment for her. But really, who could blame her?
What the actual fuck was happening?
“Dewa netjer en etj,” the entity’s deep, guttural voice reached her ears.
He stepped—no, that was wrong—heglidedcloser, and Carolina almost peed her pants.
“English is better? I thank you for waking me,sweet princess. I am Medjed, andyouare fortunate to be my chosen bride,” the giant male being spoke again.
Carolina could not believe her ears. And if that was not enough, she certainly could not believe her eyes. They were riveted to his body—his barely clothed body—as he seemed to wink in and out of existence.
What did he say? He was Medjed. The Demon? Oh fuck.
Caro might be a lot of things. Joffrey certainly seemed to find her lacking in all of them, but the one thing she was not was stupid. Whatever was happening, there seemed to be one irrevocable truth. Carolina was in big trouble.
She scrambled to stand, eyes wide as he blinked back into existence, sans shroud this time.
Gulp.
“Well, now I know why they drew you like a huge dildo,” Carolina muttered and closed her eyes against the sight of his freakishly enormous man parts.
“I am not familiar with this worddildo, my princess bride. You will teach me,” he grumbled, andhelllooo, certain parts of him seemed to like the idea very much.
OMG! Even with half a stiffy, that fucking thing is huge.
“Shit,” she muttered, closing her eyes.
She would admit she was a pervert later, but it wasn’t all her fault. These past two months, Carolina had wondered why the Demon had been depicted without a real body, just a cone-shaped form with eyes and feet.
Now she knew. Medjed was hung—like a mountain-sized horse.
But even his enormous man bits could not distract her from the raised scars and cruel warrior’s features. She was an artist, and her trained eye picked up on those traits immediately.
Poor guy. He must have suffered something terrible, but there were no records or legends of his trials. Just that he was a guard and a warrior for Osiris, God of the dead.
“You have questions, bride?”
