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SEVENTEEN
HELP.
One word echoed through Stanley's head like it was a bell.
Must protect her.
He fought his way through a tangle of bodies, clawing for the surface. Yet when he rose into the air, he was not alone.
Demons. Huge, horned, winged demons, flying shoulder to shoulder with him like soldiers marching into battle. Brothers in arms.
Until he saw her.
A flash of silvery blonde hair, spread out on the ground, for she'd fallen.
HELP.
The voice was hers.
"Mine," he growled, swooping in to claim her.
