I Raised the Demon Queen (Now She Won't Leave Me Alone)

The fire had long died down. The field was mostly cleaned up. The scent of burnt grass still clung faintly to my coat as I carried Rhea home.

She was asleep by the time we reached the door.

Not the pretend kind of "I'm totally resting my eyes" sleep, but the real, slack-jawed, snore-curling kind. Her scarf-cape flopped over her face like a wilting flag of victory. She'd passed out mid-boast about fire spirals and snack-based diplomacy.

"I hereby declare myself honorary protector of snackdom," she'd mumbled.

Then: zzzzz.

I tucked her in without waking her.

Or so I thought.

I was halfway down the hall when I heard it.

"Elias..."

I paused.

Her voice was groggy. Soft.