The battlefield was eerily quiet now, save for the soft crackle of dying flames and the occasional twitch of a demon’s body in its final death throes. You stood in the center of it all, blood dripping from your blade, breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Wow.” Jace’s voice broke the silence, and you turned to see him leaning casually against a ruined column, his seraph blade resting lazily at his side. His golden eyes gleamed with amusement as he took in your appearance. “All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his teasing tone. “Really, Jace? We just killed a pack of demons, and that’s your comment?”

He smirked, pushing off the column and strolling toward you. “Hey, I’m just saying. If fashion had a demon-slaying category, you’d be top of the list.”

You wiped at your face with the back of your hand, only to smear more of the dark, viscous demon blood across your cheek. “Ugh, this stuff stinks. You’re insane if you think I look good like this.”

“I didn’t say it smelled good.” Jace shrugged, coming to a stop in front of you. His hand reached out, and before you could react, he gently swiped a streak of blood from your jawline with his thumb. “But you did handle yourself pretty well back there. Maybe a little too well. I’m almost jealous.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “Jealous? Of what? My ability to attract every demon in the area?”

“Jealous of how effortlessly badass you are,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make you pause. The usual sarcasm was still there, but there was something else—a flicker of sincerity. Then, as if sensing the weight of the moment, Jace grinned again and stepped back.

“Come on, warrior princess. Let’s get you cleaned up before you scare the next mundane who crosses our path.”

You shook your head, laughing softly as you followed him. “You’re impossible, Jace.”

“Impossible and charming,” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t forget that part.”