The clash was nothing like a fight from any movie I'd ever seen. There was no choreography. No pauses for dramatic effect. It was real – bodies moving faster than my eyes could track, the wet sound of impact, a snarl that rattled the windows of the closest building, a demon's wing folding wrong as Dagon's elbow connected with the joint.
The demon who'd been smirking earlier wasn't smirking anymore.
Then I saw it, the moment one of them got a good look at Dagon's face. The demon's expression shifted. Not from cocky but to scared. From cocky to recognition. Like he'd just opened a door he expected to be empty and found something looking back at him.
He shouted something to the others in that language I didn't understand. The pitch of it was sharp. Urgent. A warning.
Whatever he said, they fought differently after that. Frantic. Coordinated. Like they suddenly understood they were notfighting one of their own kind. They were fighting something above their own kind.
Too late. They had already attacked.
I tried to step toward the fight.
Did he have a chance against five demons? I couldn't just stand here and watching him risk his life.
But the little dragon blocked my path. I was glued to the ground, watching in horror as the scene unfolded before me.
The sky turned damnation-black. The air thickened with a vile smell. The hair on my neck stood up. Call it mortal-danger-intuition, but I was sure one of the demons was doing something. A guttural scream tore from one of the demons as he disintegrated to dust in a matter of seconds.
A spine-chilling sensation overtook my entire body when one of the demons plunged a knife into Dagon’s stomach.
“Dagon!” I screamed.
The horror of what was happening and the desperation of being unable to reach Dagon and help him was more painful than anything I’d ever known. I screamed again, trying my hardest to free myself from that damn thing, kicking it even when I didn’t want to. It didn’t budge. I thrashed around and tried again, but it wasn't working. Dagon kept fighting, but I saw him get stabbed. I saw blood flowing from his stomach. I was horrified, my heart pounding like crazy. If something happened to Dagon…
My vision blurred for a moment. When I regained focus, only two demons remained.
Dagon's fingers closed around something. The demon's scream cut off mid-pitch as Dagon ripped his hand back out… and a heart, still beating, still steaming in the cold air, came with it. The demon fell to the ground like a weightless leaf. The other one tried to run, but Dagon went after him.
I felt the presence of a demon next to me before I saw him. I turned just in time to see something sharp flying straight toward my heart. The little dragon knocked me down, and I fell to the ground. The sharp object still managed to cut my left arm, but it was only a scratch.
Everything that followed happened too fast.
The little thing, which now wasn’t little at all, let out a sound I imagined dinosaurs must have made. From its mouth burst blue fire. The demon tried to attack me, but before he could, flames enveloped him. The demon screamed in agony as he burned for several seconds before vanishing into thin air.
A guttural sound left the demon Dagon had been fighting, and I turned with dread running through my veins. But I realized Dagon was flying my way. It was a sound thathehad made.
My head was spinning. My body was shaking. My eyes blurred with tears, and all I wanted was for Dagon to hold me in his arms.
I shouldn’t have agreed for him to come with me. It was my fault he got hurt. I should've put my foot down and pushed him away. Had I done it, his life wouldn’t be in danger. He would have been safe. I should have never agreed to come into this town. What if there were more demons lurking in the shadows?
My chest was heaving with panic as Dagon landed a few steps away and looked me over from head to toe. His gaze lingered on the small scratch on my arm. His eyes flashed with darkness that wasn’t there a second ago. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He took a step forward but stopped and looked me in the eyes.
There was blood on his face and his hands. His stomach was still bleeding, even though I couldn’t see the wound. Shock wouldn’t be a strong enough word to describe how I felt.
Dagon,my Dagon, was a demon. The thought kept repeating in my mind. What snapped me out of it was the fact that he was hurt.
Dagon was hurt.
My breath stalled. I looked up and realized why he was just standing there. There was so much pain and vulnerability in his gaze. Dagon was afraid of my reaction. He thought I would run away and leave him. Not only that, but with the pain, there was danger mixed in. Shadows and violence surrounded him.
He was darkness itself.
Gone was the brother I first met, the cheerful guy who loved games and history. Gone was the human asshole who bickered with me and avoided me. Gone was the man who smiled at me in the morning after our heated night.
The man before me was danger personified. The clenched jaw, the balled fists, the coldness in his purple-black eyes, and his body posture showed me this was someone I didn’t know.
But was I afraid? I stared at him and realized the answer.
