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I am thrown by the sensations I felt once Verrin wrapped his seemingly human arms around my shoulders. He smelled of firewood mixed with pine, but nonetheless, it was pleasant and enhanced his general allure.
It was distracting, but at least it all ended up working for the time being at least. It got the orcs out of my damn home, and I can try to figure out everything else in the meantime.
He keeps following me around the house as I straighten up, so I can’t relax. I told him we would go to the tavern to find Malaki, the supposed wizard who sold me the statue. But I need to clean up the mess the orcs left first if I want any semblance of normalcy.
I fold a few loose pieces of clothing, trying to devise some kind of plan while Verrin stands directly behind me. I feel his dark, pinprick eyes on me, and although it would likely intimidate anyone else, it makes my muscles tense and my mind furious with dirty thoughts.
I turn to him and scowl while he gives that devastating smolder.
“What are you doing?” I snap.
He continued to smirk but raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean? I’m waiting for you.”
I take a step away from him and into the linen closet, hitting my shoulder lightly on one of the shelves.
“You’re standing very close to me,” I say firmly. “Where you’re from, I don’t know if people don’t believe in personal space, but here, it’s not very polite to stand so close to a woman you just met.”
My words are thorny, but my body is as soft as a rose. If Verrin wanted to pull me in close and ravage me right here against the closet, I would let him.
But what are his intentions? Beyond getting back to whatever demon realm he was spat out of?
I take another step away from him. Considering the fact that he has magical abilities, I wonder if he had placed a charm on me to make me so attracted to him.
Suddenly, his playful expression melts away, and his eyes flutter. The deep darkness of his eyes spark that familiar red, and he staggers forward, taking hold of one of the shelves inside the linen closet.
I am befuddled, watching his skin shake like a snake about to shed, and I consider taking another step away from him again. He raises a hand in the air, human fingers swaying and with flashes of the original dark glossy skin I’d first encountered him with.
“Please,” he begged, voice gritty and desperate. “Don’t walk away. I’ll explain.”
Out of blind trust and concern, I step closer to him, and he lays a hand on my shoulder. He steadies himself, breathing in and out deeply, then lifts his head to meet my eyes.
My heart smashes around my chest like a pinball, being so close to this creature, his scent, his strength, his capabilities. I feel myself sticking my breasts out involuntarily, and the need to squeeze my thighs together is acute and wonderful.
When he lifts his head, he is back in his human form. He is grinning, and that gorgeous smile could win anyone over. And he is looking at me, dead in my eyes, lips a mere inch away from my own.
“Thank you,” he mutters, still grinning. “I think my magic is attached to you since you were the one who opened the statue. It’s also not as potent as it usually is.”
I nodded, then took him by the forearms. It’s a natural response from someone who has cared for an ailing parent for nearly a year, so I found myself sliding back into that routine caregiver mode like slipping on a glove.
“Do you need a drink of water? Something to eat?” I whisper.
Verrin looked away for a moment, chuckled, then straightened. He towers over me, the top of his head nearly scraping the ceiling. He cleared his throat and adjusted the pieces of clothing he had taken from my father’s closet. I had only noticed them just now.
“I am fine, darling. As long as you are near, I can maintain my human suit. Now,” he said, the confident smolder returning, “shall we head out to this tavern?”
I grab my cape so I can wear a hood over my head, and we walk into the village. It has been nearly a full day since the crater formed, so the rumors are beginning to die down, but all I can think of is how much work is left to do on the farm and how this handsome demon has thrown a twist into the flow of my existence.
Not that some of it isn’t welcomed. I had hoped, longed even, for a way out of the grim, orc-run outlook of my life, even to the point of trusting a shady wizard. But Verrin is a demon who is dead set on getting back to his lair. How is that going to change anything about my life other than to make me seem even more suspicious?
My mind is like a carousel as we walk, always close together, so Verrin’s abilities do not fizz out. He tells me a bit about his life in his realm, the excitement of sowing the seeds of sorrow on his fellow demons, and the casual demise of complete towns and cities. He speaks with a soft and compelling lilt that I find myself drawn to, shocked by the incredible poise and skill.
He is entirely convincing, which would make his position in a king’s court utterly understandable.
As we walked side-by-side, I let my emotions flow. He is incredibly interesting in a carnal way and personality-wise. He is also prone to violence with an inclination toward victory rather than morality.
So why does he make my body tremble?
