"Ahh!" She screamed, her eyes widening as a burly slave brought down a machete upon her. She could not defend herself, so she closed her eyes, her body shrinking in fear.
"Clang!"
A collision, a sound she had not expected, filled her ears. Despite the stinging pain in her shoulder, she could feel someone holding her firmly by the waist.
It was then that a familiar, almost chillingly pleasant voice whispered in her ear. "You mustn't let this register on an emotional level."
That scent, it was the same one that had saved her in the Misty Marsh.
Sophia's eyes fluttered open at that familiar scent, but she could not see the man; all she could see was his right arm holding a sword that blocked the machete from striking her.
His other hand was pressed firmly against her waist, fingers splayed possessively over the curve of her hip, his grip warm even through the fabric of her robes.
For a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze with Sophia's breath hissing in relief.
