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“Who are you?” I called back.
“Nico. Who areyou?”
One name?
Useful.
Really useful.
Most mysticals would give a first and last name, followed by their type and power level. Instead of announcing my shitty magic, I stuck with his one-word introduction.
“Morgan. Where are we?”
“Middle of the forest.Whatare you?”
I bit back a sigh as the wolf snarled at the other man, again.
Guess we weren’t beating around the bush as much as I thought.
I changed the subject again, knowing that demons always got a bad rap—and I was even shittier than most. “How do I get him back in his human form?”
“Let him bite you.” Nico answered my question, even though he still sounded suspicious.
I looked back at the wolf, and offered an arm. “Here, have a snack.”
He just growled at me in response.
Nico snorted. “It’s not going to work like that.”
I heaved a sigh.
The wolf was still positioned over me, with my back on the rocky dirt. My long, pale blonde hair was going to be covered in bugs after this, and there was nothing I hated as much as I hated bugs.
At the thought of bugs, I shivered, and my flames ignited themselves.
“Shit!” I exclaimed, shaking my head as I tried to chill the fire out before it toasted my clothes.
It was no use; the damn flames made themselves known when I was worried, tired, panicky, or… well, every other random unhelpful time. Usually, they burned as much shit as they could, but this time the only things around me were my clothes, dirt, and a wolf. And the wolf wouldn’t burn for the moment, because of the demonic mating process.
Which I currently wasn’t a huge fan of.
“Why isn’t he on fire? What the hell are you?” Nico growled.
“A demon,” I said. “And as I already told your friend, he’s my fated mate. My magic might as well think he’s me.”
For now, at least. During the mate capture, which was the first part of the mating process, my flames wouldn’t let me so much astryto leave my mate’s side.
Even if he was a damnwolf.
The wolf dropped his face to my neck, nudging my chin to the side with his nose. My head seemed to turn of its own volition, and the wolf sort of… nuzzled my neck?
Nuzzling?
Was that supposed to be cute?
Gah, I was not cut out for wolf-mate life.
By some miracle, though, the nuzzling worked.
