Logan huddled in the shelter of a large rock and listened to the wind moaning around him. Bitter anger at Queen Maeve's treachery still burned in his gut, but that would have to wait. At the moment, he had more pressing concerns. Somewhere out there, in the scouring dust and burning wind, something was hunting him.

If he was lucky, it was another human. The hunter was human-shaped. He knew that from the one glimpse he had gotten just before it had vanished behind cover. Unfortunately, that wasn't much comfort. The demons that called this nightmare realm home could almost pass for human.

Almost.

He glanced into the sky as he did every few minutes. Logan had quickly learned that lesson. Many of the demons could fly. A sudden shadow or the subtle flap of leather wings might be his only warning. Like birds of prey, they could hurtle out of that boiling sky in a heartbeat.

This realm was a savage place. Everything that moved was predator or prey. It was obvious which category the one hunting him thought Logan belonged in. He was of a mind to disagree.

He reached down and stacked another handful of loose rocks in the most apparent walking path and inside the camouflage of sturdy, sickly white scrub brush. As booby traps went, it was rather piss-poor, but every advantage mattered. The rattle of a loose stone could be his only warning.

His weapons barely qualified as such. A stick of deadwood, from some kind of sickly looking, black tree, was stuck through his belt as a would-be sword. He carried a fist-sized stone in either hand. Sticks and rocks, that was all he had between himself and a world of monsters.

Thanks, Maeve, you bitch, he thought.

Logan heard... something, and went very still. The click of claws on stone? Maybe. It was too faint to identify, but it sounded close...

A shadow fell over him. Something leaped down from the top of the boulder. He moved but too little, too late. Strong arms wrapped around his chest. Pain bloomed in his shoulder as sharp teeth bit deep.

Logan responded instinctively. Hands spread out to break the body hold followed immediately by a hard elbow strike to the midsection. His attacker fell back from the blow. He spun around on his back heel and snapped a front kick out with a booted foot.

The creature was hurtled back against the boulder by the strength of his kick. The crack of stone against skull was unmistakable. It fell to the dirt, senseless or dead.

Logan closed to attack and finish the job. He pulled the stick out of his belt, raised it above his head, aimed the sharp end at her throat, and… hesitated.

Her throat. A young and very naked woman lay at his feet, but not a human woman. For starters, her skin was the color of lavender. Her hair was a lion's mane of snow-white, almost hiding the two small, black horns on her forehead. Sharp black claws extended from her fingertips and toes. Some strange, oily, black smoke seeped out from where her head had struck the rock to rise and shred in the wind.

A demon. A native of hell. One that had just tried to kill him.

She was breathtakingly beautiful he saw, now that she wasn't trying to disembowel him. Long, curling lashes lay against the gentle curve of her cheeks. Her face was slightly round, like a girl barely out of her teens, with a cute nose and full, black lips.

Hunter or prey, he reminded himself as he raised the stick to drive it into her chest. He was alive only because he had gotten lucky. Those claws looked wicked sharp, easily capable of scooping his guts out like ice cream. And she was built for hunting. Head to toe, she had the sleek muscles of a professional athlete with a tiny waist and smooth, flared hips. There was nothing soft about her. Well, nothing except those magnificent, perfect breasts.

Killed or be killed. Logan took a deep breath.

And that face. She looked so cute when she was asleep. So vulnerable. So helpless.

He scowled and lowered the stick. "Godammit, Logan."

*****

Logan stared across the small fire he had managed to build and wondered what the hell he was going to do now. Mercy had stayed his hand and a need for intel on this place and its savage inhabitants had finally convinced him to take this foolish chance. At least, that was what he had told himself.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

His captive still lay where he had carried her, still bound hand and foot with strips of his shirt. The rest he had used as a bandage to wrap the bite marks down his shoulder and staunch the bleeding. The rock had left an ugly cut on her head, but when he gently brushed her hair back, there was no blood, so hopefully, that was a good thing. Apparently, demons did not bleed, unless you counted the smoke that had stopped leaking out. Her breathing looked even and untroubled. Healthy even, the way her firm breasts rose and fell with every breath.

"Dammit." Logan got up to look outside yet again. He couldn't go far even if he had wanted to. The shelter he had discovered could not correctly be called a cave. It was more of a deep cut in a cliff, but it kept the stinging wind out and hid them from the view of any flying demons, thus firmly qualifying as "better than nothing." Unfortunately, it was a bit too cozy for two.

If he sat, they touched. No matter how he shifted about, eventually, some part of him came to rest against some part of her. The demon girl was muscled like a jungle cat, but her skin was as soft as warm butter. Under normal circumstances, close quarters would not be a problem with a willing female as lovely as she was.

Except, she hardly qualified as “willing” tied up in the remnants of his shirt and his current situation certainly did not qualify as normal anything for many reasons. There was, for instance, the fact that his unexpected house guest was still entirely, and gloriously, naked. He tried not to stare at her perfect curves. To keep his imagination from wandering down inappropriate avenues. To ignore the way having her hands bound behind pushed her already impressive breasts out even further. Or the cute landing strip of snow-white hair between her long, shapely legs…

Shit! Logan ground his teeth in frustration, stared out the cleft in the rock, and focused on deep breathing, which wasn't really helping because of reason number two. She smelled magnificent! Not quite perfume. Not quite that clean scent of skin. Somewhere in between the two, a spicy-sweet musk that seemed to linger in his nose. In such a small space, it was inescapable.

Last but not least, there is the tiny fact that she had bloody well tried to murder me!

There was no question in his mind about this. Walking wet dream or not, bringing her back to his hide-away easily qualified as the dumbest damn thing Logan had ever done in his entire life. Once she woke up, there was zero reasons to think she would not try again. He did not dare to sleep.

Logan sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes. Speaking of sleep, how long has it been? At the very least since before arriving in the clearing of Grandfather Bear. Time seemed to mean nothing here, but his internal clock said he was well into day two with no real rest.

He turned back to see yellow eyes looking back at him and went very still. Her pupils were slitted like cat eyes and watched him with a steady, unblinking gaze. A heartbeat of silence settled between them, then two.

"So… hi," he offered in a low, cautious tone.

She said nothing, gave no indication that she understood at all. Logan took a step toward her. She tensed. No fear, just a sense of being ready and waiting. Slowly and with some difficulty, she managed to sit up. The effort made her anatomy jump and sway in ways that made Logan's mouth go dry.

Logan knelt closer to eye level. "Can you understand me?" He tried for some version of soothing and friendly in his voice, but still no response. He sighed. "No? Well, I guess that sort of rules out, "Please don't try to kill me again" as a conversation starter."

He pointed to his chest. "Logan. I am Logan."

The creature looked where he pointed. He dared to hope he was somehow getting through. Then yellow eyes wandered lower until she was staring at his crotch. Eventually, reluctantly, she looked up at Logan's face.

There was no mistaking the invitation or the hunger in her golden eyes. He watched in mute astonishment as her thighs opened as much as having bound ankles would allow. Logan could not help but notice that her nether lips were a darker shade of purple.

He found it a little eerie and a lot erotic. The creature made no big show out of it. There were no subtle games of seduction and no hint of anything like modesty or embarrassment. Her body language made it seem so simple. I want sex. Take me.

The musk of her desire made him dizzy. It made him hard. Logan wanted to tear her loose and dive in headfirst. He wanted-

He stood abruptly and jabbed a finger at her. "Enough! I do not take sexual advantage of prisoners of war, and I'm not going to give you the chance to cut my throat, so just fucking stop it!"

A long moment passed in silence. Slowly, without ever breaking eye contact, she closed her legs. Logan sat back down once the hammering of his heart eased off a bit, and his blood pressure dropped out of heart attack range. Her naked leg lay against his dirty pant leg. If she noticed, she gave no indication. Neither did she make any further efforts.

He held his hands up. "I need to check those bindings and make sure they are not hurting you. So, take it easy, alright?" He scooted closer. "Easy," he warned.

Logan checked the knots around her ankles and ran a finger under the strips of cloth to make sure they were not too tight. He reached over to touch the silky skin of her naked shoulder and gave her a gentle push, encouraging her to roll onto her stomach. She seemed to comprehend and did as ordered. Logan checked the knots around her wrists and loosened them where they had gotten a little too snug. He made a mighty effort to stay focused on the task and not on the swell of her naked, toned bottom pressed against his leg.

Logan was sweating by the time he crawled back over to his side, and his crotch ached from too much pressure and too little room for it in his jeans. "This is gonna be a long night," he told her. The yellow glow of her eyes gave nothing away of the thoughts hidden behind them.