The thing started to burn even as Darcy drove her dagger into its back. Its death cry echoed across the still fields as the fire consumed it. The outline of a misshapen body showed right before the whole thing went up in a wild blaze.
Jaral grit his teeth and pulled the claws from his shoulder. Once free, he kicked the burning remains away from him and pressed his hand to the wound. Dark green blood pulsed from between his fingers. Pain radiated from his shoulder, making his right arm all but unless. He hoped this particular breed of spirit didn’t have any poison in their claws. As long as it was a standard injury he’d heal in time.
“Badass warrior demons aren’t supposed to get hurt,” Darcy scolded, yanking her scarf from her throat. She batted away his fingers to press it against the wound.
He tried to smile at her concern. “Even us demons have trouble fighting opponents we can’t see.”
“Are they gone?”
“Yes. We can continue.”
“Like hell. We need to get you patched up.” She helped him to his feet and together they stumbled over to the car. He wanted to tell her the wound would repair itself in a few hours but no one had worried about him in decades. He rather liked her flustered concern.
“Sit,” she ordered, pushing him into the passenger seat. “I’ve got first aid supplies.”
He waited for her to grab her kit from the trunk before she leapt into the car with him.
She cranked the heater and gestured to his shirt. “Off. We need to get you bandaged up.”
Following her instructions, he shrugged out of his clothes to let her see the gaping hole in his shoulder.
Darcy winced. “Do you need something for the pain?”
He arched a brow at the question, doubting she traveled with pills of any kind. “I’m fine.”
With efficient hands she cleaned the wound and started winding bandages around him. Jaral held still and let her do what she would. All the while he tried to remember the last time anyone had cared enough to bandage him. His body had taken far worse attacks than this, but he would never have asked for help—a sign of weakness. None of his kin would ever have offered, either.
But Darcy didn’t wait for an invitation. She jumped right in, ready to help even if that aid was going to her enemy.
As she worked, she chewed on her bottom lip. The sight made him smile. It was a telltale sign he was beginning to recognize whenever she was worried.
Darcy looked up and caught him smiling at her.
“What?” she demanded.
Jaral shook his head, unable to explain. “Thank you,” he said instead, brushing her lips with a soft kiss.
She stilled, her hands pausing on his body.
Their kisses had always been heated. An illicit touch shared between enemies. But this time it was different. He kissed her not to inflame but to give comfort, to convey thanks.
He could feel her surprise and knew it was mirrored in him as well. Never before had he touched a woman with the care he used now.
Darcy drew back enough to meet his eyes. She’d hate her vulnerability if she knew how open her expression was at the moment. But he took advantage of the rare opportunity to study her. Her expression held genuine concern, far beyond what would be expected for a partner. She’d been scared for him and the knowledge humbled him.
He cupped her face between his hands, wanting more. The ever-present desire was visible in her bright eyes. And something else. Something far harder to name.
With a start he realized what it was. Hope.
And then it hit him with the force of a blow. This woman was his. His mate. His future.
She was the only creature in either of their worlds who cared if he was all right. She was the only one to look at the bastard prince of the demon court with hope in her gaze. Hope that he could be the man she wanted.
He remembered her flying at the spirit attacking him. One tiny human had tried to protect him as no one else in his life ever had. Darcy would fight to the death for those she loved, and she’d fought for him. How could he not fight for her?
If he lost her, none of the rest of it would matter. Not his father, not his position within the court. Darcy was what mattered. She was the one he needed.
How the hell was he going to survive this mess?
* * *
Darcy looked up at Jaral with wide eyes. Her breath was frozen. Never before had he looked at her with such a shell-shocked expression. She had no name for the emotions flying across his face but they made her heart race.
When she’d seen him go down in the field, panic had consumed her. Jaral could not be hurt. Not on her watch. Whatever sort of twisted relationship they had started, he was hers for this brief time and no one was going to harm him but her.
Unnerved by his inspection, she dropped her gaze back to his shoulder and finished winding the gauze around his wound.