My Demon of Fire: Paranormal Fated Mates Romance (Rebel Demons Book 1) by Rosemary A Johns

Author:Rosemary A Johns [Johns, Rosemary A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-05-11T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Sol’s Bedroom, Demon Underworld

I struggle. I can’t move, call for help, or breathe.

Freezing water crashes down on my face.

I’m going to die.

On the sacred Stones, somebody help me…

Water’s going up my nose and throat. I’m choking.

Hell, make it stop.

Please, please, please.

My lungs burn, and I’d give anything to be able to draw in oxygen. Why didn’t I know how precious it was?

Why didn’t I tell Sol that I loved him?

I want to sob but I can’t do anything but choke.

My throat’s swelling. My brain’s on fire. I’m convulsing.

Next to me, I can feel the same happening to Sol.

It’s fucking agony. When will I black out?

The shadows that feel like death wind tighter around me, holding me still. My ears are ringing, and lights flash in front of my eyes.

This is it. The water hex is going to kill me.

I’m truly dying.

All of a sudden, there’s a burst of silver magic. Then the water stops, and the shadows withdraw from me, seeping into the walls.

I twist off the bed, falling onto my knees next to it. Frantically, I hurl, spitting up the water. Tears stream from my eyes, as I gasp for breath. I’m never — never — going to take oxygen for granted again.

From the other side of the bed, I hear Sol gagging and coughing up water as well.

My legs are too shaky to stand; they feel like they’ve been turned to water.

Who the fuck did this to us? I’m going to kick their demonic ass.

I shiver, curling into a sopping wet ball. Tremors wrack me.

Sol crawls around the bed unsteadily, looking as much like a drowned rat as me; his pajamas are plastered to his body, and his tail is wrapped defensively around his waist.

When he curls around me, I flinch.

I can still feel the water battering me, and the sensation that I’m about to die.

“I’m sorry,” Sol whispers into my hair.

“I should truly be very cross with you,” Anwealda’s cold voice drawls, “disrupting my morning by forcing me to rescue you. Not one day back and already almost dead by an assassin’s hand. I feel like I should award you a medal or possibly execute you. I haven’t decided yet.”

I stiffen at the same time as Sol.

Then still shaking from cold and shock, Sol pulls himself to his knees. I only peer though the wet tangle of my hair at Anwealda, who’s leaning against the wall opposite the bed with his arms crossed.

“She needs the Healer,” Sol demands, although his voice is raspy. His throat is as damaged as mine feels. “The curse or hex was dangerous. Deadly. But she’s human, and I’m discovering how easily they break. The aftereffects could hurt her. At least Ward should check her over. I can summon her now.”

Anwealda’s eyes flash with rage. “Am I not the Emperor?”

Sol swallows. “Of course.”

“It’s just that for a moment there, it rather appeared like you already were.”

Sol glances at me. “Look, I can get Ward in here to—”

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Anwealda raises an imperious eyebrow.

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