Grabbing the hilt of the blade, I use it to haul myself up, climbing the creature’s back. My legs lock over its shoulders as I gain purchase, one hand gripping its skull.
Without hesitation, I drag my blade across its throat. Black ichor erupts, spilling hot over my hand.
Below, the priestess cries out. She’s no longer free.
Inky liquid sprays across my face, but I can see enough to know time is of the essence.
One claw is clamped around her torso—talons rest deep in her chest. The demon lifts her from the ground. She hacks at its leg, striking again and again, but it does not release her.
Blood seeps down her cloak.
Her painful cries cut through the chaos.
Something in me snaps.
I spin my blade in my grip and drive it down—straight through the crown of its skull.
The creature jerks.
Stills.
Then collapses beneath me, its grip loosening as it crumples to the forest floor.
She falls with it.
I wrench my blade free and go to her, kneeling at her side. What I see is a block of ice wedging itself inside my chest.
My hand hovers as if to help. She shoves it away with a groan—a raw, broken sound—as her gaze drifts to her chest. Her eyes dart back to my face, holding a grimace. “What, not a good look?”
I don’t smile. The joke is not funny in the slightest.
The creature’s talons are still buried inside her, hooked deep.
Carefully—too carefully—she grips one and pulls. It slides free with a wet, resisting sound. Then another.
Each one costs her. I can see it in the tightness of her jaw, the tremor in her hands.
“Let me help.”
She shakes her head sharply. “No, I’ve got it.”
When the last releases, she shoves the creature’s limb away, and it hits the ground with a heavy thud.
For a moment, she does nothing but breathe heavily and peer up at the sky.
“Are you all right?”
“No, but I will be. Just give me a second.”
I stand and offer her my hand.
Seconds stretch as she considers it.
I release a pent-up breath when her stubbornness recedes enough for her to take my help. Her palm meets mine, and I help her gently to her feet.
Strands of her white hair have fallen over her face, and black blood coats much of her skin. I don’t know if what I feel displays itself on my face, but I also don’t have the energy to hide it.
She peers up at me much the same, with disbelief and something akin to awe. “That was way too close for my liking.”
