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Screaming, she struggled to swing her arm around, plunging the dagger into the side of its neck. Out of instinct, she closed her eyes to avoid the blood hitting her eyes, but warm gunge sprayed down on her face, narrowly missing her mouth.

The creature shrieked in pain, and the smell of its rotten breath had her stomach jumping. Emara managed to keep her weapon out at arm’s length, the blade still embedded deep within the demon’s neck, but unfortunately for her, it wasn’t dead.

Not yet. She hadn’t hit the brain, the heart, or taken its head completely off.

Damn it. Why did she go for the neck? In pure panic, she had missed her opponent’s weakness.

She was stuck under this beast as its vile teeth still gnashed at her. The demon clawed at her, snapping and snipping at her with its putrid teeth.

The weight of the demon’s body lay on her legs, disabling her from moving them, and she wondered how much longer her arms could hold before her strength would give way and its teeth devoured her.

A sharp blade pierced through the chest of the demon, stopping an inch before her heart. She let out a scream as the demon did and the blade withdrew itself before the demon was flung aside like a phantom wind had propelled it into the air. Torin stood above her, covered in dark blood.

“You almost stabbed me!” she yelled, her hand clutching her cloak where his blade had almost penetrated.

“Do you seriously have that little faith in my precision?” He smirked, holding out his hand for her to take. “My sword would never have touched you, angel.”

She didn't take his hand. “You were one freaking inch away from my heart,” she complained as she stood.

“Don’t be dramatic.” He smiled carnally. Without warning, he spun and severed a demon’s head from its neck as it approached from behind. Turning back to her like he hadn’t just decapitated a demon's head from its shoulders, he said, “I have impeccable accuracy. And you should know that you can’t kill a demon by stabbing into its neck. You need to decapitate it or pierce its brain or heart.”

Heat flushed her cheeks at her mistake. “Well, thank the Gods for your accuracy,” she snapped. “Or my heart would have been on the other end of your bloody sword.”

“Like I said before, you need to have more faith in me.” Even though it was cold, a little sweat had formed on his brow, and he wiped it away, still clutching both swords. “Have I ever let you down yet?” he asked.

Although she knew they were in the middle of one of those conversations that had utterly ridiculous timing, the question rang through her.

He had never let her down, not once.

He turned again as another demon came towards his back. He stabbed from behind, skewering the demon like he was making lunch, and pulled the creature over his head. The demon’s body hit the ground in front of Emara, and she couldn’t help but flinch at the sound it made. He pulled his second sword up and ended its existence with one sharp stab to the heart.

She didn’t fear what she had just witnessed, how Torin didn’t so much as flinch as he killed them. She didn’t fear that he looked her in the eye after it like nothing had happened. She wasn’t afraid when she was with him.

She was safe with him.

“It’s clear from my end,” Artem shouted, pulling her gaze from Torin.

“A small legion of lesser demons.” Magin panted, holding his shoulder. “Why they would be out here, I have no idea. It’s not a usual gathering spot.”

“They have probably gotten themselves lost in the hunt for human flesh,” Torin added.

“Trust it be us that comes across them.” Emara fixed the cloak around her neck that had gathered funny from her fight.

She started walking back to where Ledi was still waiting, untouched, but Torin caught her elbow.

He searched her over, probably looking for any injuries. The thought of his eyes trailing over her under the moonlight sent her heart racing.

“I am okay.” She held up her hands when she realised what he was doing. She noticed that her right hand was covered in blackish red gore and assumed her face was too. Torin moved into the space between them, clearly taking a better look at her.

“It’s not mine,” she said, holding out her hand to him. He took her hand in his own and looked it over. “I promise.”

Torin exhaled and looked over her hand a second time before wiping it down his tunic. The blood smeared over his grey uniform, and she could feel the hardness of his muscles underneath the material.

“Better on me than on you,” he said, his eyes dimming with shadows that could only be found in the darkest parts of the ocean.

“I think you have enough on you,” Emara replied.

“I have nowhere near enough on me if it keeps you safe.” His lashes lowered, causing her stomach to roll and flip. “We need to get out of here,” he commanded his brethren.