The Struggles of Marrying a Demon {Completed}

Breaking Back In

Riding on a dragon for a long period of time wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as Mabel had expected. In fact, it was almost soothing, once she pushed the daunting thought of everyone might die if I don't do this right to the back of her mind.

She'd managed to get on Flint easily, without getting killed by a warlock or other creature (something told her it was because no being wanted to go near a dragon), and he'd taken off as soon as she was settled. It was a real shame he'd probably eat her if given the chance, because she'd grown to like him in the thirty minutes they'd spent flying over Hell's barren landscape.

Thinking back to the mess at the castle made Mabel nervous, and she chattered anxiously; she wasn't sure if he understood what she was saying, but he was a great listener regardless.

"I feel kind of bad for you," she confessed, shifting to get a better grip on his scales. "I mean, Pele was an asshole to you, and you didn't deserve that. I hope you got to keep some—if not all—of that treasure he got from the warlocks."

Flint's body shook with what could only be described as a disbelieving scoff, and Mabel gasped with offense. "Are you serious?! You didn't get anything?"

He tilted his long neck, bringing his head around, and the look in his eyes told Mabel everything. Pele hadn't given him any of the treasure, and Mabel had no doubt that Pele had ended up at the battle because of the dragon. She nodded in admiration. "Pretty impressive on your part—no one will wonder why he was there; Aleron would have hunted him down anyway, so thanks for making it easy, I guess."

Flint bobbed his head up and down, then released a low cackling in the back of his throat, shifting to the right and angling downwards. Mabel peered over his head and blew out a breath at the sight of the warlocks' castle and the dense forest that surrounded it.

"Here we are. Can you bring me down in the woods, please, Flint?"

Another round of cackling, but this was higher, longer, and if Mabel hadn't known better, she would have thought he was laughing at her.

She found out soon enough that he was.

***

Flint didn't land in the woods. He didn't even land outside the squat, worn-down castle that had obviously seen better days. No, instead of being subtle, Flint opened his mouth, set fire to the surrounding land and the roof, and preceded to land in the center of the castle, bringing down the entire ceiling with him as he went.

"What the Hell was that?!" Mabel shrieked, her entire body shaking from the sudden burst of adrenaline.

Flint leaned sideways until she slid off, barely catching herself before she fell over. Mabel turned to give him a piece of her mind but faltered when she saw him chewing on a warlock.

"Okay," she told him conversationally, coughing to rid herself of the dust that had collected in her lungs with their impromptu landing. "I'll just work on finding that book if you have this covered."

Flint's response was to spit out a wad of robes.

***

Because so many of the warlocks were taking part in the battle at Death's castle, they'd left their own castle relatively unprotected and quiet; Mabel was extremely grateful for the oversight.

She couldn't help but wish Packer was still with her, though, since she had no idea where the stupid book would be.

Pausing in the middle of what looked to be the kitchen (it needed a serious cleaning, if the smell and mold was any indication), Mabel swung her head around, her eyes darting over every single door and window.