"Would you like to know what I enjoy most in this world?" She suddenly heard the brute's voice say from somewhere behind her in the dark. They had followed her, and she hadn't even noticed. "Naïve bitches who are dumb enough to ask men like me for direction." He told, stepping out of the shadows.

Emaia turned around and saw four dark outlines moving towards her. This was not good. She backed up into the alley and felt her breath hitch when the back wall started to close in on her. This was déjà-vu.

"But my absolutely favorite thing in this magnificent world," The brute continued, still coming closer, "Is when that bitch is a fucking busty woman who just so happens to have a nice face."

Emaia felt her stomach churn as the brute stopped in front of her, now only a few feet away. His friends stayed a little in the back, obviously because he was their leader.

She knew she had acted dumbly tonight, letting them show her the way. This was her own doing for trusting them.

Her hands were shaking as she pulled out her little dagger and fiercely pointed it towards him. "Stay away from me!"

"I told you, you shouldn't be hanging around dangerous men this late," The brute mocked with a grin, looking at her little dagger. "But you didn't take my advice. If you're stupid enough to walk up to a man like me this late, you have it coming, toots."

Emaia whimpered as he came closer and reached out for her. She automatically stepped backwards, but was hit in the back by the wall. There was no distance between them now, and the brute took it to his advantage and swiftly grabbed her hand.

"Let me go!" She shouted at him and tried to wiggle her hand out of his filthy palm. The brute squeezed her wrists so tightly, she cried out from pain and was forced to drop the knife. It fell to the ground with a soft thump and made the brute laugh grimly.

"Whoopsy, eh?" He mocked and snaked his arm around her waist. "I guess it's just you and me then."

"Let go, you greasy pig!" Emaia raged and tried to fight his strong grip.

"What did you just call me?" The brute snapped. He thrust her hard up against the wall and dragged a whimper from her lips as he let go of her hips and instead grabbed her throat. "You filthy little bitch! You have no right to speak to me like that!"

"You're an ugly and brainless swine who's going to rot in hell!" Emaia spat back at him, but then immediately regretted it. Talking back to an angry man was definitely not a good idea.

Pure rage lit up in the brute's face, and then he squeezed her neck so tight she couldn't breathe. "You're going to be sorry you said that," He hissed into her ear. "Get on your fucking knees!"

He pulled her by her throat, whirled her around, and thrashed her into the ground with all his strength. Emaia screamed and landed face first on the dusty ground. Luckily she managed to break a little of the fall with her hands, but she felt how her knees hurt badly.

"That's right, bitch, right where you belong," She heard the brute say from somewhere above her. "On your hands and knees, beneath a man."

She had to escape somehow. She begun to crawl away, but the brute stepped on her dress and made her fall back on the ground, chin first.

"Going somewhere?" He mused before she suddenly felt his weight crawl on top of her. "Not before I'm done with you."

"No!" She cried out when he grabbed the back of her neck and forced her head to stay on the ground. His palm captured her hand before he smashed it into the ground and leaned down to her ear.

"You're going to regret calling me names, bitch," He growled into her ear. "I'm going to teach you a hard lesson."

He let go of her hand and started moving it under her stomach, down to her pelvis.

"Get off me!" She shrieked and felt how her entire body begun shaking. She was more scared than she had ever been her entire life. She got saved yesterday, but she doubted she would strike lucky twice.

"Oh, I will get off," The brute growled into her neck as his hand started pushing her rear against his crotch. "I'll get off so hard, you won't be able to walk again."

She felt something hard grind against her rear, but couldn't explain what it was. Instead she started struggling and crying for help.

"Shut up," The brute snapped and tightened his grip on her neck. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that your cúnt will never look the same again. My cock is going to be forever imprinted inside your stupid little pussy, and you're going to feel me every time you fucking move!"

Emaia felt her stomach threaten to spill out her mouth as he groaned when he begun rubbing against her again.

"Mhmmm," He hummed into her ear, and made the hairs on her back stand up. "I think I'll fuck you so good that you can't walk. From the front, from the back," She felt the hard thing grind against her arse, "You'll have to have someone carry you around on their dick after I'm done with you," He breathed and licked her ear. "Do you want me to carry you around on my dick?"

Bile were rising in her throat by every word he said. She had never heard such foul language in all her life. Even though he probably meant every word he said, the most terrifying thing was still being so defenseless. She could do nothing but lie there and listen.

"This is going to hurt so much," He laughed grimly, "You're going to scream off the top of your lungs and you're going to beg for mercy," His hand started moving from her front to her back, and suddenly, she could feel how he was searching for the hem of her dress. "Beg me for mercy, bitch. Beg!"

"No!" She yelled and started struggling again. She tried to push herself of the ground with her hands, but his grip on her neck only made it so much more painful. Too painful.

"I call second," She heard one of his friends say. "She won't be struggling so hard by the second time."

"That's fine by me," The brute replied and smiled wryly, "I like them wild. It only makes the conquest so much better."

His hand found the edge of her dress and she felt how his hand traveled up her inner thigh.

She knew she was finished. There was no stopping it. She had run out of ways to get away and now she was going to die, simply because she wouldn't get married. Suddenly marriage didn't seem so bad.

All of a sudden, there was a short sound of something whistling through the air. Then, one of the men burst out a wail of pain.

Emaia whipped her eyes up to look at the guy who had cried out, and found him clutching his arm where an arrow had embedded itself. Blood was pouring down his arm, and suddenly, she saw a cloaked figure land on the ground. He had jumped off the roof of a building and landed perfectly on his feet.

The men around him immediately drew their weapons from their scabbards and headed towards him. Emaia recognized the cloaked figure as her savior from last night when he whipped around and made a circle-kick to one of the men who was pointing a dagger at him. He struck him in his face with his foot and made the man stagger backwards, disoriented. The cloaked man then reacted quickly and turned around when the two others were still hot on their toes. She hardly saw him pull out something from under his cloak before the items were thrown with immense speed towards one of the men. The man with the arrow in his arm started clutching his thigh now and decided this was too much for him. He limbered off and left the cloaked man with two opponents.

The last guy didn't have a weapon, so he went for the cloaked man with his fists. He aimed for the cloaked man's head, but the cloaked man quickly leaned back on his heels and avoided the punch. Instead he swung his leg under the other man's knees and made him fall on his arse in a bundle of confusion.

The guy who the cloaked man had circle-kicked was coming to his senses and drew his dagger once more. The cloaked man was one step ahead and drew a dagger from his cloak and aimed it towards the man's arm. It struck him perfectly and the pain made the man drop his own dagger to clutch his wounded arm. The cloaked man used his momentary agony to his own advantage and grabbed the guy's sword-hand and bent it to an uncomfortable angle until it snapped and broke with an uncomfortable sound. The man cried out and took a few steps back before he followed his friends wise action and ran away.

The brute who had been lying on top of Emaia now jumped off her and headed for the cloaked man himself. He was pissed as hell as he grabbed his own dagger and lunged towards the mystery man.

The cloaked man saw him coming and quickly avoided his stab. He then drew yet another dagger from his cloak, before thrusting it straight into the pit of the brute's stomach with a loud growl. He wrenched it around, digging it deeper.

The brute froze. Emaia saw how his hands came to his stomach where the cloaked man's dagger sat. He stumbled a few steps back with a horrified look on his face. He hadn't seen this coming. Blood was pouring from the wound and gushed down his stomach, down to his breeches. He collapsed to his knees. The cloaked man simply kicked him down onto the ground with his foot until he landed flat on his back with blank eyes. Dead.

- He had killed him.

Emaia sank to the ground and curled herself up against the wall.

He had killed him. The cloaked man had killed him. She had just witnessed a murder! Granted, it had been the murder of someone who had just tried to rape her, but it still had a horrifying impact on her. She had never seen anyone die before her eyes. Now all that was left of the brute was the blank, shocked expression on his face. He looked so hauntingly scary.

Emaia barely had time to think before one of the men came back. He was silently closing up on the cloaked man who was paying attention to the dead body in front of him. He hadn't notice him coming.

"Look out!" Emaia shrieked as the man grabbed a knife and started charging the cloaked man. The cloaked man reacted fast and spun around—quick enough to avoid begging stabbed. He jumped away, and from out of nowhere, he produced a bow and arrow from under his cloak. The man with the knife had momentarily lost balance, but quickly regained it, only to find the cloaked man pointing his arrow at him. He raised his knife, but stopped as the cloaked man tightened his bow.

"I dare you."

The voice was so melodic, yet at the same time lethal and cold. It carried no trace of fear. It was calm and collected, yet hard and murderous.

It was the cloaked man speaking for the first time. It was such a deep and beautiful voice, though at the moment it was telling the brute's friend to back the hell away.

The brute's friend seemed to be considering his chances with the arrow, but the cloaked man didn't flinch or show any sign of backing down. He firmly stood his ground, his arrow pointing directly between the guy's eyes. The brute's friend made the logical decision and dropped his weapon.

"Good choice," The cloaked man growled, almost animalistic. "Now run before I change my mind about letting you go."

The guy didn't need to hear that twice. He put his legs into good use and ran away down the street, far, far away. Once he had disappeared, the cloaked man unarmed his bow and placed it back under his cloak. He seemed completely calm, Emaia noticed, and she watched him as he slowly turned around and gazed in her direction. She was still frozen in her fetal position, shaking from top to toe.

Maybe the cloaked man felt her fright when he seemed to linger on his feet. Emaia was too scared to move or even speak when the cloaked man suddenly starting coming her way.

Her curiosity was fighting with her scare as he carefully stopped in front of her and crouched down to her level.

For the first time, she looked upon him. He wore a mask that covered his entire face, except his eyes, along with his hooded cloak and gloved hands. She couldn't tell the color of his hair or even the color of his skin, only that he had the brightest eyes she had ever seen.

In truth his eyes were probably blue, but the moonlight made them look silvery white and shining, like crystals. They were framed by a thick set of black lashes that balanced out the whiteness of his eyes. They looked into her eyes and slowly blinked as they studied her.

"Are you alright?" He suddenly said. She saw the indication of his lips move behind the mask as he slightly tilted his head to the side, waiting for her reply.

Emaia was stunned. His voice was the most melodious baritone she had ever heard, a velvet smooth and enchanting tone. It sounded so calm and collected that she wondered how the voice of an angel could belong to the warrior she had seen just a moment ago.

She realized he was still waiting for a reply, so with a shaky voice, she answered; "I-I'm fine."

He didn't respond to her words, but simply watched her as her heart slowed down its pace. When the rush finally left her body, it left her with nothing but questions in her head.

"You saved me," She breathed and looked into his eyes, "You saved me... I... Y-you saved me last night, too!"

She saw a flicker of recognition in the cloaked man's eyes, and suddenly she could tell he was smiling.

"I remember," He said and gently brushed a stray hair out of her face. "I've never seen so much fire in my life."

Fire?

She looked down at her hair and it suddenly occurred to her how her hair must've stood out amongst the crowd, like a wolf amongst sheep.

"Oh, you're right," She said and touched the tip of her braid that was coming apart. "I didn't think about how my hair would probably bring me attention."

"I wasn't talking about your hair."

She looked up into his eyes and found him staring into hers. His eyes were so intense, and since it was the only thing she could see of him, it made them so much more hypnotizing. It was then that his words registered in her head. The meaning of them made her blush and look down. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. It set her soul on fire again, but it felt different this time.

"You shouldn't be out after sunset," The cloaked man suddenly said with a hint of something in his voice. "That's when the bad boys come out to play."

She snapped her eyes up to his and noticed how his eyes had changed again. There was a spark of something in them.

"You're up after sunset," She bravely replied and furrowed her brows. "Are you a bad boy?"

She saw the crowfeet by his eyes deepen, indicating he was smirking. "I just saved your life; You tell me."

Why was she blushing? "You make a decent point," She murmured and looked down at her hands. "Perhaps I'm bad, too. A simple girl looking to stir some trouble," She offered and looked up at him again.

"There is nothing simple about you, and I can't see a glimmer of bad in you," He soberly replied and let the fingertip of his gloved hand run down the length of her braid, his eyes trailing along with it. "Which leaves me with the question of what a woman like yourself is doing out so late."

"A woman like me?" Emaia asked, feeling insecure under his probing finger. There was something ever so sensual about the way he casually stroked her braid with just one finger. Like he was smoothly trailing down a crack in a wall.

His crowfeet deepened again. "Don't insult my intelligence, I can tell you are a woman of wealthy upbringing. What brings you to Bart?"

He was very observant, she quickly discovered. How he could tell she was rich, she would never know. Her dress was covered in mud and her hair was dirty from her lack of bathing the last two days. She looked like any commoner.

"I needed to escape my old life," She told truthfully. "And as for what I am doing out so late, well... I was looking for an Inn called The Quilted Cow. Do you know it?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," The cloaked man responded. "But why go there this late? Did you want to get caught out after midnight?"

"Maybe I'm rebellious," Emaia answered and felt a smirk creep onto her lips. "Or maybe I just wanted to find you again."

The cloaked mans head dipped, and suddenly, she heard the softest, most beautiful chuckle she had ever heard. "Find me? Rebellious? You really are out looking for trouble, aren't you?"

His statement made her blush, but she refused to let him take her pride. "Does that bother you? A woman wanting to break free?"

"Actually, I'd say it was about time," The cloaked man replied and looked up at her. "In my opinion, women need to be a little more like you; Rebellious."

A surprised expression crawled onto her face. He was the first man to ever admit this so openly and casually. "Really?"

"Really. Where I am from, women act as freely as men."

She didn't even know such a place existed. "And where is that?" She asked and looked eagerly into his eyes.

But to her disappointment, he simply looked back. Not a word crossed his lips. He wasn't telling her anything. Instead, she changed the subject.

"Who are you?"

Still no reply.

Changing the subject again. "Why did you save me?"

"Didn't you want me to?" He finally replied. She noticed his left lid pull up slightly, indicating he was raising his brow.

"Of course I did!" Emaia breathed shocked, "Didn't you see what he was about to do to me? He wanted to—"

"Don't speak another word about it or my temper might just get away with me again," He growled, suddenly tensing up. His eyes narrowed and she noticed a flicker of anger in them. "Men like him is the reason I'm out here protecting the streets."

"Why are you?" Emaia curiously asked. "You risked your life to save me, why do you do that?"

"Because nobody else does," He simply replied. His eyes wavered and flipped down to her braid again. He started curling it around his index finger, spinning a lock of red hair around it. It was such a beautiful contrast to his sleek black glove.

Emaia swallowed dryly. Breathing had become difficult for a second there, and her stomach felt oddly tense. What was going on? She was about to open her mouth, but suddenly his hand withdrew from her hair.

"I think we have spent enough time out here in the dark, don't you think?" He murmured and begun to withdraw from her. He rose to his feet and held out a hand.

She looked surprised up at him, her mouth half open. He looked devilishly handsome from her current point of view; The thick leather armor he was wearing rippled down his stomach and traced a subtle outline of what was a lean body. His frame wasn't very broad, but every fiber of his being expressed enormous strength, not to mention incredible power and agility. His arm—the one that was currently outstretched, waiting for her hand—was tightly packed with muscles, hidden under a protective layer of armor.

She hesitantly reached out and placed her hand in his. "You're right. I should get on."

She noticed a faint indication of a smile behind his mask before his hand folded around hers and pulled her to her feet with surprising strength. "I'll keep my eyes on you until you get to your Inn. In the meantime," He released her hand, only to bend down and quickly grab the dagger he had given to her the night before. It was still lying on the ground where she had dropped it. "Keep this on you at all times while in Bart. I'll advise you to leave this city as soon as possible." He held out the dagger in his gloved hand, waiting for her to take it.

Emaia softly took the knife and clutched it tightly. "Thank you."

"Its just a dagger."

"I meant for saving me," She cut in and took a step closer to him. For some reason, she felt oddly drawn to him. She knew she shouldn't, given the fact that he had just murdered a man. He was dangerous. "You saved me twice within the last two days. I can't thank you enough."

"Just don't make it a third."

"I promise, I won't," She soberly replied. After tonight, she would hopefully not have to be alone again. Dashel and the rest of them would take her under their wing, and together, they would change the world to a safer place.

The cloaked man nodded. "Go down that road, turn right and then turn left. You'll find The Quilted Cow there," He gave her one last glance before he started walking away. "Stay safe."

Emaia nodded, and as soon as she had, he bolted off. He disappeared into the night and left her alone once again.

There were so many of her questions he hadn't answered. Mostly she wanted to know who he was and also wanted to see what was behind that mask. Why was he hiding his face? And what was his real reasons for roaming the streets, saving people? She hoped this wouldn't be the last time she saw him. She wanted to know him and see him at least one more time. Hopefully, fate would be kind enough to bring him her way again.