A Demon’s Kiss
“You still bleed like a human. Demon’s are meant to be powerful.”
He draws his fingers along my face, pulling back to show me my own blood. My stomach turns, but I don't look away from him, nor do I cower.
“I hate you," I snap.
“Not as much as I hate you, Demon," he sneers, even having the audacity to laugh.
Drawing in a breath, I push him with as much strength as I can muster with my injured arm, watching him stumble back a few steps, stunned.
He's silent for a moment, only able to look at me in disbelief. I've never retaliated before, never fought back out of fear of punishment, which Oliver looks more than ready to dish out to me.