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Agnar throws up a wedged earthen wall to deflect the poison breath while I launch into a simple spell that cleanses the air and water of toxins, stumbling a little due to the fear pinching my throat. My weak magic doesn’t seem to have any impact. Of course not. Nothing I do ever works. I’m a stupid, useless trainee, which forces Agnar to put himself in danger to save me yet again.

The cloud splits around Agnar’s shield, sparing us and hitting the rocky shore. Stones break like popping corn, scattering shrapnel everywhere. The other two tendrils dig into the shore, aiding the creature in dragging its bulky, armored body from the river, the stumpy legs somehow supporting its weight.

The giant head emerges through the cloud of gas and snaps toward us.

Agnar parries by slamming his sword into rows of teeth. His biceps bulge as he twists the blade, driving the point into the creature’s gumline, where no protective scales exist.

The creature rears back with a roar that shakes the trees. I cringe away, clapping my hands over my ears.

Agnar drops his defense and follows through.

His sword rips down from the corner of the creature’s mouth all the way to its throat. Blood pours out of its maw, turning the water a frothing pink.

The beast didn’t expect this kind of attack and backs into the water once more, heaving its huge body along on its stubby legs.

That one scratch isn’t enough to chase it off, however. The creature has too many limbs milling under the surface of the water and too much mass for that little bit of blood loss to count.

Agnar’s jaw tightens in a way I recognize, and his eyes narrow as he resets his fighting stance.

Then the riverbed heaves.

Stone spikes erupt from below, punching up through both water and flesh. They grow like the straight, sharp spines of a lionfish, catching the creature in a dozen places along every tendril. The beast attempts to dodge, wrenching its body to the side, only to be gutted and eviscerated as the stone tears free of its flesh. I gag at the sight of its intestines spilling out, but I don’t look away. I have to witness its death, if nothing else.

Each spike grows barbs, pinning the creature in place.

Its head, free of the trap, thrashes, its mouth snapping. More yellow-green gas gathers in its throat.

Agnar lurches forward and slashes his sword so quickly, I can’t track the motion with my eyes.

The creature stops thrashing.

Its featureless face slides off its neck and hits the rocky riverbank. Once the beast’s death throes come to an end, the water settles.

Chest heaving, Agnar clutches his sword in one hand. The other rises and drips crimson fluid to command the earth. Blood—his or the creature’s, I can’t tell which—trails down his naked chest and back. Every muscle contracts under his skin, showcasing strength earned through the violent determination to survive.

He’s beautiful.

The thought surfaces unbidden, and I can’t push it away.

Can’t pretend I’m not admiring the breadth of his shoulders, the way water streams off him, and the controlled power in every act as he scans the river for more threats.

For the first time in my life, crouched on the rocky riverbed, nude and exposed, I feel truly safe and protected.

No one has ever done this for me.

My father paid guards and servants to escort me everywhere, who acted as my constant companions and never left me alone except in my room.

But not once did they step forward to protect me from my sister’s harsh words or the judgment of those around me. They usually just smirked when I got hurt, and my pain often inspired their not-so-quiet whispers.

My family, who should have protected me, were the ones who hurt me the most.

Even though I tied this man up, dragged him bound and blindfolded through the mountains, and threatened him with mutilation from a dire wolf, he threw himself between me and a deadly threat.

He did so without hesitation, as if my safety mattered more than his own. As he has done over and over again.

My throat tightens as tears sting my eyes.

Agnar sloshes toward me, kicking up water that slowly clears as the current wicks the creature’s blood away. His sharp blue eyes scan me for injuries. His lips move, but I can’t hear over the whooshing in my ears and the inner voice screaming that I don’t have a stitch of clothing on.