Taming Demons for Beginners (The Guild Codex: Demonized #1)(35)

Bracing his hands on either side of my head, he leaned down. I pushed back into my pillow. “Are you not pleased? I have obeyed our terms.”

I gulped, my mind spinning frantically. Bound to the infernus. Obeying the terms. A terrifying new understanding dawned, followed by the urge to howl in denial.

“You mean by protecting me?” I stammered.

“Protect.” He seemed to taste the word, his eyes gleaming dangerously. “What does this word mean, na?”

He lowered his face until all I could see were his glowing eyes. Fresh adrenaline surged through my veins. A demon was pinning me down. He could kill me before I could draw breath to scream.

“What does it mean, payilas?” he whispered, his breath warm on my lips.

“It—it means you can’t hurt me.”

“Is that all?”

“And … and you won’t let anyone else hurt me.” I wanted to close my eyes but I was afraid to look away from him. “Would you move?”

“That is your meaning?” His wolfish grin returned. “You did not tell me this when we made our contract.”

“Contract?” I mouthed silently, terrified by the word—by the confirmation of my new worst fear.

“So,” he concluded with vicious delight, “your meaning does not matter.”

No. No no no. This wasn’t happening. “Zylas, get off me!”

With a husky laugh, he slid off the bed. I leaped off it after him, my shaking knees barely holding me up—but now we were standing in the whole five square feet of floor space between the bed and dresser. It wasn’t nearly enough room.

I planted my feet and lifted my chin, fighting the urge to cower as he circled me. His movements were smooth and fluid, and the sunlight flashed on the armor that shielded his left shoulder, forearm, and a small square of his chest. Where metal or fabric didn’t cover him—meaning most of his abdomen and half his right arm—powerful muscles rippled and flexed beneath his reddish-toffee skin.

He stopped behind me and my panic spiked again.

“You agreed to protect me,” I said shrilly. “So you have to—”

“You did not explain your meaning.” His fingers caught a lock of my hair and tugged. “So I get to decide what protect means.”

That answer was significantly worse than I’d been imagining.

He let the lock slip between his fingers—then suddenly slid both hands into my hair. “Why are you so soft?”

I jerked away, tearing my hair free, and spun to face him. “Keep your hands off me!”

“Na? But payilas.” He stepped closer and I retreated. My back hit the dresser. “Protect … does not mean obey.”

I recoiled into the dresser as he leaned over me. He was of average height for a man—a human one, at least—which meant he towered over half a foot above my diminutive frame. With mocking deliberateness, he sank his hands into my hair again, cupping my head. He leaned into me, his body hard and heavy and warm. Terrifyingly solid. Strong. Dominating.

Suppressing the urge to shove him away, I let my arms hang at my sides. That’s what this was. Domination. He was stronger, he could do whatever he wanted, and he was proving it.

What a bully.

“Must I keep you from all hurt?” he mused, as though there’d been no pause in our terse exchange. “Or only keep you alive?”

There was a distressingly large difference between those two interpretations.

His taunting smile returned. “You did not explain your promise either.”

My promise? I hadn’t promised him anything. “You don’t get my soul. I didn’t agree to that.”

An edge sharpened his smile—angry displeasure. New fear skittered up my spine, but he didn’t attack. Though he could show off his superior strength, I was guessing—or rather, desperately hoping—that whatever his interpretation of “protect” was, it didn’t allow him to hurt me.

But what had I agreed to? I only remembered refusing to give him my soul. Since I hadn’t promised to get him out of the circle, that couldn’t be what he meant, and I didn’t recall offering him anything else in exchange for …

My eyes popped wide as my fuzzy memory handed me the answer.

“Cookies?” I blurted shrilly. “That—that’s what you agreed to?”

In my befuddled terror, that was the only offer I’d made. If I hadn’t been half out of my mind, I never would’ve suggested something so ridiculously worthless.

“Why on earth would you agree to that?” I added, too flabbergasted to think before speaking.

His lips peeled back, flashing his canines, and his narrowed eyes sparked like angry flames. Yes, he’d agreed to my cheapskate offer, and he was pissed.

I might have gotten the better end of our deal, but he hadn’t walked away with nothing. He’d escaped the circle without enslaving himself. Though he wasn’t completely free—he was still bound to the infernus—he had survived a death sentence while keeping his mind and will intact.

Because, as he’d said, protect didn’t mean obey.

Amalia’s voice echoed from the main level as she called something to Kathy. Zylas’s head turned toward the sound. His fingers flexed, then began to withdraw from my hair.

I grabbed his wrists.