Accidentally Married To A Demon - Mila Young Page 0,15

make it clear that there was something different about it. They were wondering why my blog had suddenly taken a turn, sounding a little more fictional than before.

All of the feedback that I could see was positive. They thought that I was playing this like I was getting an idea for a fantasy novel of sorts.

I took a deep breath, looking around my new bedroom and then back to my laptop. It was understandable that people thought that I was turning fictional and dramatic: I was still coming to terms with what was happening myself.

With that being said, it was an interesting turn. It was an interesting direction to take my blog into. Possibly a permanent one too.

"I can't just stay in here all day," I whispered, looking around the room again. I’d come back here after visiting the neighbor, and still no sign of Rog.

Around me, there were faded floral patterns on the walls, and the light bulbs were held up on wall-mounted sconces, making them look like torches.

Still, while there was still sunlight around, I was contented to leave the window open. Nothing really took the place of natural light.

I finally headed down the stairs into the common area of the house, giving in to my grumbling stomach for food.

The country kitchen was a dusty affair, and the tap was dripping. After years of living on my own and being too anxious to call a super, I had used the powers of the internet to teach myself how to fix stuff like that.

It was quick work, and once it was fixed up, I turned my attention to the fridge. It was an old model, humming louder than most cars, but it still got the job done, and was fully stocked with enough food to last me at least a couple of days.

"Rog, did you fill the fridge?" I asked, loud enough to be heard through the house. My voice echoed a little louder than I would have liked, but there was no answer. "No? I guess that some magical fridge-stocking elves came along and decided that this witchy bride-to-be needs a well-stocked pantry."

There was no answer in the house. Not so much as a creaking board, and I knew for a fact that every board in this house creaked. My aunt really hadn't done a good job of maintaining this place, but I could actually forgive her for that, now that I know exactly what she had been dealing with.

I turned to the oval dining table leading into the open planned living room, but my gaze locked on the enormous cheese wheel, the kind I’d only seen on television. Did it come from Bram?

“Someone likes cheese in this house.”

"Who are you talking to?" Rog asked, suddenly making me jump in my skin at not hearing him approach.

I looked over my shoulder to see him coming into the house, carrying another large cheese wheel, then set it on the table next to the other one.

The scent of him, musky and fresh, suddenly flooded the kitchen. I instantly felt hot, and getting my gaze to behave and not trail down his rugged body seemed an impossibility. Not when his jeans hugged strong thighs, when his blue shirt lay open at his throat, crisp and clean, the sleeves with cufflinks at the wrists. He no longer looked like the man who worked the farm as he had the day I arrived. He was sophisticated and sexy as hell. Mr. Demon had everything right. Of course, that wasn’t what I should be looking at when technically not only had I inherited a house, but a demon husband through a blood contract. Guessed there was no such thing as living alone in this house ever. All things I intended to fix as soon as I found out how.

“What’s with the cheese? Got a fetish?”

“Payment,” he answered.

That confused me, and I blinked at him. “I don’t follow.”

“People visit me to ask for my advice on problems they face. And I have no need for money, but they insist on paying. So word got around to pay me in food. I give it to the goats.”

I was so confused and I needed a few seconds just to unpack what he’d told me. “Wait, you, a demon, give people advice. What people? Vampires? And do you have some psychic demon ability?”

He laughed at me. “You’re funny.” He walked over into the kitchen and pulled out the carton of eggs from the fridge. “I’ll make you a