Kleo crouched in the middle of what used to be a goblin encampment. Ten minutes ago, it had been a bustling mess of crude huts and bark-covered tents. Now, it was mostly blood and splinters.

  She was responsible for all of it—the flattened shelters, the craters, the pile of mangled bodies.

  It had been a whole thing, but honestly, she was over it now.

  Her mottled black skin shimmered with faint gold pulses—veins of molten light throbbing beneath the surface. The energy was finally fading, her body returning to something closer to herself. The armored plates that rippled across her arms and shoulders began to dissolve, flaking away like ash and drifting off in the breeze.

  Her clawed hands flexed restlessly, fingers unnaturally long and tipped with razor-sharp obsidian nails. Like her hands, her feet had transformed into weapons. At her back, two nubs of wings itched beneath her skin—apparently, her transformation came with some interesting upgrades.

  She wondered if Jack would be into that. Wings could be sexy. Being two and a half meters tall might pose some challenges in the bedroom—but hey, she could always be on top.

  She looked at the goblin.

  She was curled into a ball near the corner of a collapsed tent, wrists and ankles bound. She had managed to remove the gag but was still breathing like she was mid-cardiac arrest. She shrank away as Kleo looked at her, trembling so hard her nose ring jingled.

  Kleo tried to smile. That didn’t help.

  She knew this goblin. The last time they'd crossed paths, the little green woman had been a reluctant bridesmaid, standing next to the Dark Witch in a crimson dress with black trim.

  That had been, without question, the absolute worst day of Kleo's life—not a single other day even came close.

  "I liked your dress," Kleo said, her voice a low, distorted rumble that sounded more like a growl than a greeting.

  The goblin stared at her, wide-eyed. "W-what?"

  "At the wedding. Crimson with black buttons. Very tasteful."

  The goblin blinked, trying to piece together the memory.

  "You were... there?" she asked.

  Kleo nodded. "Caught the bouquet."

  A beat of silence.

  "Oh."

  "The Dark Witch is dead," Kleo said, wiping a streak of blood from her thigh. "You probably figured that out when the corruption vanished."

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "Yeah. Thank Gnar, my hair grew back. That bald comb-over was not my aesthetic."

  Kleo nodded. "You look much prettier now—for a goblin."

  "Thanks... I think. Did you kill her?"

  "Well, technically, my husband delivered the killing blow, but I softened her up first."

  "Yeah, well... fuck that bitch."

  Kleo chuckled. "Right?"

  “So you were the human woman sitting on the groom's side?"

  Kleo was demana, not human, but she didn’t bother explaining.

  "Yep." She popped the 'p' with annoyance. "The whole thing was ridiculous."

  "You look... different."

  Kleo looked down at herself.

  "Yeah. It's a whole... situation. Just hoping I'll be back to normal soon—don't want my husband to see me like this. He gets queasy around demons."

  The goblin tilted her head, squinting at Kleo’s towering, half-demonic form.

  “So… you’re a demon now?”

  Kleo sighed. “Yeah. Kind of. Half, maybe. It’s new. But don’t worry. I’m a good demon.”

  The goblin gave a nervous glance at the wreckage of the camp—the smashed tents, the mangled corpses, the blood-splattered trees.

  “Uh-huh. Are… are you sure you’re a good demon?”

  Kleo scratched at one of her wing nubs, then gave a lopsided grin. “I want to be good. But part of me wants to be bad, too. I’m trying to work it out.”

  “Not super reassuring.”

  “It’s like sex,” Kleo said, entirely serious. “If you want it to be good, you have to be a little bad.”

  “Okay… I’ll try to remember that if I ever…”

  “Have sex? Highly recommend. But wait for the right goblin. Makes all the difference.”

  “Sure. Okay. So your husband’s coming?”

  “Yup. Maybe five minutes out.”

  Kleo looked down, picking at the blood on her toes. “About that… can I ask a favor?”

  “Uh… sure.”

  “When he shows up, can you… not mention I was here? Say you didn’t see anything. You were blindfolded. Bound. Hiding in a tent.”

  The goblin shrugged. “Okay… he’s not gonna hurt me or leave me tied up, is he?”

  “Nah. He’s a sweetheart. His name’s Jack.”

  The goblin tilted her head. “Wait—Jack? The groom?”

  “Yeah. He probably won’t remember you, though. Killing the witch messed with his soul. His memory’s patchy. He knows what happened, but it’s not… his real memories.”

  “Wish I had that luxury. I was enchanted for three years. She never hurt me, but… she made me do weird stuff.”

  Kleo raised an eyebrow. “Weird like… sex stuff?”

  The goblin gave her a look that screamed: Seriously?

  “No. Weird, like dancing jigs with pigs. Putting on puppet operas. Walking backward for a week. Eating with a fork. That kind of weird.”

  “Oh. Got it. Dark Witch weird.”

  “You think about sex a lot.”

  “I know.”

  “Maybe you have a problem.”

  Kleo nodded solemnly. “I do. I really do.”

  Kleo tilted her head. “Hey—I just remembered. I had to stay in the ruins overnight because Jack was pretty close to dead. I searched the place. Found a drawer full of junk. There was this pendant—stone surrounded by runes. Had a Goblin King engraved on the back.”

  The goblin’s eyes went wide. “That’s my royal signet! A gift from my mother—passed down from the first Goblin Queen, my ancestor. She married King Ragmar.”

  “I know who he was. United the goblin tribes.”

  The goblin looked impressed. “That’s right!”

  “So… are you a princess? Or a queen? How does that work?”

  “Technically, princess. But there’s no king or queen. No kingdom to speak of. So… I guess that makes me Queen of Nothing.”

  Kleo smiled. “Me too. Well, Jack worships me, but that’s contractual.”

  They both laughed.

  “I’ve got to sneak back to my camp before I finish de-morphing. We’re near the river crossing, along the hills. If you want that necklace, come find me.”

  “I will. Nice seeing you. Thanks for saving me—again.”

  Kleo waved, already turning toward the trees. Her senses were fading—the enhanced vision, the scent trails. She knew Jack and the others were close, but not how close.

  She looked back and whisper-shouted. “I wasn’t here. We never met.”

  “Got it,” said the goblin. “Guess I’ll wait for your friends. Nothing better to do. Maybe they can cut these bindings for me…”