Slate and I both want to take our times to do the marking. We don't want to rush. More so, he doesn't want to rush me at all. According to him, he knows that everything takes time and we shouldn't be rushing at all as we've got all the time even though I told him already that we just have a few days before he... dies. Of course I fear him dying. I'm scared because what if this didn't work? What if the demon marking didn't work at all and he died? I know I've been overthinking – everyone could see that – but I just can't help it. My mind keeps popping up questions that I can't really answer, and I fear them all.

Later that day, I see Slate getting busy helping the werewolves from fixing some of the cabins and houses. Apparently, the Great Alpha and Beta, and the Guardian were so angry that they howled so loud that caused the wooden houses and cabins to fall down. There was a commotion happened earlier, and it's about the Guardian of the Werewolves getting rejected by his human mate. According to Leandre, being rejected means basically dying for a werewolf. And according to Leandre, the Guardian chose to let go his mate rather than pursuing his mate to be with him just to save himself from dying.

That is one act of love: sacrificing yourself just to benefit your loved ones.

This evening, everyone is in chaos. Every werewolf that I pass by is whispering among their friends that the Guardian werewolf is missing. Earlier, according to what I heard, the Guardian werewolf was saying something under his breath that no one could decipher. They believed that it was just an effect of getting rejected, but there was fears in the Guardian's eyes. They were glowing blue and he was saying something that nobody could understand. And now, he's missing. The Great Alpha and Beta and their mates look for the Guardian.

Two arms slip around me from behind, pulling me closer and my back hits a hard chest. I smile, knowing that familiarity of secureness and comfortableness from my demon. I look up at him through my eyelashes and see he has a smile tugged on his sinful lips, the lips that I always want to put mine on. Slate leans down and plants a kiss on my forehead and I give out a sigh of contentment.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" I ask him, referring to the Guardian that has just gone missing.

His lips set into a thin line and he looks like he's in a deep thought. "He will be," he finally answers. I look for any signs if he's lying, but there's nothing. "They are mates, and if I recall correctly, they can't live without each other. Kind of like us."

Blushing at his statement, I let my bangs fall in front of me, hiding my eyes and cheeks. It's been so long since the time my hair was cut to short. I've been living in the mortal for God knows how long already and I haven't had any proper haircut yet.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks me as he moves my bangs away that hide my eyes with his index fingers. I blush again when I see his longing stare at me and he smirks. "What did I ask? Of course it's me you're thinking about. No need to lie. Angels don't lie."

"Yes, they do." I mutter.

"They?"

"Yes, they." He looks at me as if I've lost my mind. Maybe I have, that's why I'm together with him. "I figured that since I'm going to be a demon, I'm going to consider myself as a demon already. Not an angel. Plus, I have my demon guru right here, standing in front of me. So I'm hoping that my guru would teach me how to be a demon."

"Ah," he seems amused, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Rule number one, you should always kiss your demon." He chortles as his hands go behind his back, clasping it as he looks at me. I roll my eyes, tiptoe, and then gives him a peck on the lips. His arms immediately wrap around me, pulling me closer and Slate deepens the kiss. As he pulls away, he says, "That's better."

"That's not even a rule," I say breathlessly. "Kissing you is my privilege since you're my boyfriend." Hiding my embarrassment by burying my face in his chest, he lets out a chuckle, his chest vibrating. I like the feeling of his chest. "So that doesn't count as a rule."

"It does count as a rule; it's my rule," he insists as he ruffles my hair. I frown and swat his hand away. "So yeah, when I want you to kiss me, you kiss me." I'm about to say something when he interrupts me. "Uh-uh, no. Don't question me about my rules. Rule number two, you –"

"You give that fucking boy to us," a voice booms so loud that it kind of shakes the ground.

We both whip our heads to the direction of the demon and our eyes widen.

Right in front of us is another demon, a demon in his full demon form. His eyes are burning, like literally burning, red. His fangs are bared, giving me a sight of how deadly it is. His horns are larger than Slate's. His skin complexion is darkish red, like a blood. His wings are huge, flapping wildly, lifting him up. He's not really wearing anything; the only thing that's hiding his junk is the fire consuming him. From what I can tell, this is no ordinary demon. His aura screams power and hatred and grief.

I look at Slate, and he has his eyes wide open and his jaw hanging. Then his expression turns to anger, his brows furrow and soon he's transforming himself into a demon.

"You," he seethes as he turns into his demonic form.

Everyone is crowding now around us and the werewolf warriors are baring their fangs against the two great demons. The tension has become thick, and no one dares to speak a word. Two demons stare at each other, waiting for someone to move a muscle.

"Give me the angel, Forneus," the demon spats with so much venom that it makes me flinch.

"Even if you're the fucking Prince of Hell, I'm not giving him to you," Slate says through gritted teeth as he cranes his neck. "We all know that I'm powerful than you."

"We'll see," the Prince of Hell says as he makes some screeching noise. Everybody puts their palms over their ears to block the painful noise and I fall on the ground. Slate rubs my back and plants a kiss on my temple. I want to reach out for him, but I can't move even a single muscle.

I hear Slate cursing under his breath and when I take a look at the Prince of Hell, he's no longer alone. There are demons surrounding him, all in their demonic forms. Their eyes are trained on me and I whimper, scared that these guys want me. Slate blocks my view and hisses. Another demon comes, revealing Dantalion in his demonic form.

"You ain't touching him," Dantalios says calmly as he glares daggers at the demon.

"Dantalion," the Prince of Hell says, a smirk forming on his lips. "Why am I not surprise that you're involved with this? Ah, yes, I remember now. You once had an angel companion that died in front of you. I remember how he screamed when I killed him. That angel was nice, almost made me want to consider not killing him. But oh well, I remember that I'm a fucking demon."

"Shut up! You'll fucking pay for killing him," Dantalion shouts angrily.

The werewolves begin to surround us. Even Leandre, who has his white wings wide open, in his Angelic form. He releases his glistening sword – a sword that has been purified to kill demons. Both Dantalion and Slate look between the sword and him but Leandre's eyes are trained on the demons in front of us – the real enemies.

The enemy demons look at Leandre, but Leandre doesn't stand back. Instead, he hold their gazes with his own eyes. Dantalion's eyes rake another werewolf and the werewolf senses it but he doesn't comment on it.

My palms are getting clammy, and I'm sweating profusely. My heart beats erratically, and every time my eyes meet the Prince of Hell's, a part of me feels like he's luring me. The moon is full and surprisingly, there are no stars in the sky. There are no dark clouds either. Just a pale full moon shining upon us. The wind is cold, and every time the wind hits my bare skin, I shiver. I want Slate's arms around me, and I know that this is not really a good time to ask for one, but I would really like him to hug me right now just to comfort me, to tell me that everything is going to be okay. His hand grabs mine and I look at it, and he gives me a comforting smile instead of the hug I really want. That'd suffice.

"One last chance, Dantalion and Forneus. Hand me the boy."

"Fuck you, and no," Dantalion says and I internally roll my eyes.

"Okay," the Prince of Hell turns his back on us and then he yells. "Prepare to fight!"

The enemy demons howl, their wings sprouting off their back. Slate makes popping noises with his knuckles and smirks and I hear him comment under his breath: this is going to be fun.

But right before the battle starts, there's a glowing white aura and for a moment, we're blinded by the light. Leandre gasps beside me and his eyes are wide as he stares at the white light. It can't be.

"You can't have all the fun to yourself, Prince of Hell." My father, the King of Heaven, as he descends. Mom's arm is looped around my father's, and when they descend, it's like everything is being blessed. Behind them are the angel warriors, purified swords in their hands, their white wings flapping in sync. "I came down here to get my son."

Right then and there, I know that this battle is going to be tiring.