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He jumped into his leathers and was flying towards the door in a heartbeat.

He threw the door open. “This better be good.” He couldn’t even hide the sheer rage in his tone.

It was Magin to speak first. “Blacksteel, we are truly sorry for interrupting.” He swallowed, his hands behind his back. “But there has been a small army of demons sighted in the footpaths of the mountains.”

Torin stilled.

A small army of demons.

“Who spotted them?” He looked between the two hunters. “When and where? Speak!”

“The news broke from the Supremes’ personal guards in the watchtower,” Artem confirmed.

“It’s been ten minutes or so since the call went out. All of the empresses have to stay in their rooms, all guards have to gather in the ballroom,” Magin said.

Torin had forgotten that not everywhere had a loud siren that blasted when a demon was spotted. That meant time had been wasted in trying to locate everyone, precious time that they didn’t always have when it came to the Dark Army.

Fuck.

Just when he thought the winter solstice had escaped the inevitability of vile demons ruining everything… He drew a hand over his face and looked at his brethren. They had no idea what he had been just about to do. The ring box was still firmly in his hand; he hadn’t had enough time to bury it again. He looked over his shoulder and Emara sat up in the bed, the sheets pulled over her chest. Her dark hair sat wildly around her like midnight satin, and her full mouth was parted. There was only fear in her eyes now, which made him want to wipe out every single demon on this earth just to protect her from that terror.

He pushed his lips together and said, “One moment, angel.”

Looking to his brethren, he stepped outside and shut the door, not caring that he was half-naked. He was the commanding guard in this cluster, and he had to make the decisions. “I am not leaving her alone,” he stated. But he couldn’t not fight. “I don’t care if we have been commanded to do so. It’s my call. I will take the reprimand.”

“We figured you would say that,” Artem agreed.

Torin looked down at his hand and opened his palm.

Magin shifted as he took in what lay in Torin’s hand. Artem’s eyes darted from the ring box clutched in his fingers and then to his face.

“Brother, did you just—”

“Not yet.” He pushed the ring towards Magin, who now looked rather pale. “I didn’t get the chance to.”

“But you were about to?” A breathless sound came from the inked warrior.

Torin gave one single nod, hoping that it was enough to silence them.

It did.

“Listen, I would be expected to be out there in this fight…” Torin looked over at his fellow hunters. “And so I will be.”

“We also figured you would say that too,” Artem commented. “Are we pulling short swords for myself and Magin to stay or what?”

“No,” Torin said. “There is no need. Magin will stay and protect her.” He looked at Artem. “We will hunt. We worked fast in the selection together.”

Magin nodded in acknowledgement. Torin placed the ring box into Magin’s hand. “Do not let a single person through this door until I am back,” Torin barked a little more harshly than he had intended. He did everything he could to smooth out his face before saying, “If I don’t come back, I still want her to have this.” He could feel Artem’s glare burn into the side of his face, but he didn’t turn. “Give the ring to her should I fall tonight. Tell her there is no one else.”

Magin nodded and a strange expression glazed his face. Artem’s chest expanded with breath, but there was no sarcasm or quip. He simply nodded.

“Give me a moment,” he asked them, knowing they would go to ready the weapons.

Emara hadn’t moved, but she stood as she saw him, dragging the sheets with her. “What is happening, Torin?”

“Don’t worry, angel,” he said, looking for the rest of his uniform. “I will take care of it, and I will be back before you know it.” He flung the tunic over his head. “A few demons, that’s all.”

She came towards him quickly, and before she even spoke the words, he could hear what she was going to say. “Let me come with you.”