God of Monsters

Four

Crawling into the tent, Salem made quick work zipping it up before anymore cold air could enter. The wind was howling and beating against the tent's walls. Thankfully, it was made for this weather, and kept it slightly warmer inside. He had purposefully made sure to find one like this for his mate's comfort. 

His mate was currently asleep, bundled up in his snow suit and the sleeping bag. Salem looked him over, making sure the male was okay, and breathing steadily. 

He had taken the morning patrol to watch over the tents they had extracted in what had once been a forest. Only the oldest trees survived, but even they were dying from the cold and without the sun. He had sat for hours letting his darkness spread out in search of anything, while his eyes had stayed on the stars above. It wasn't until Liam and Roland had sent him to get some sleep of his own, assuring him everything was fine and insisting that they take the remaining hours, that Salem looked away from the twinkling lights. 

Removing his boots, Salem crawled beside Azrael and laid down as close as he could get to his mate. Absentmindedly he ran his fingers over the faint scar under the male's left eye making him grunt. 

"Your fingers are cold." Azrael said sleepily, his voice raspy. Salem loved the sound of his sleepy voice almost more than anything else. It was his second favorite thing to wake up to. Azrael pressed a kiss to Salem's fingertips before making room for him in his sleeping bag. It was a tight fit but neither of them minded being so close, and Salem was instantly warmed.

It didn't take long for Azrael to fall back to sleep. His breath evenings out and his mind becoming calm. Salem envied how easy it was for him. Sleep was no longer peaceful like it had once been for him. Plagued with nightmares of creatures he wished to never face while awake, and blood, there was always so much blood. It poured from the skies, so thick it suffocated him. He'd either wake up gasping for breath, or his concerned mate shaking him awake.

Salem could not understand why these images came to him in sleep. He thought it could be their future, drowning in the blood of all those they tried to save. Being killed by horned beast that had crawled from this world's deepest and darkest pits. He wanted to do everything he could to prevent that. He had no other choice but to try. Other times, he felt as if he was seeing it through someone else's eye. 

Eventually exhaustion won and Salem fell into a restless sleep. His dreams were no different, showing him horrors that made it easier to face the creatures he killed daily. They were nothing compared to the ones in his sleep. There was always the fear that suffocated him, that smothered his senses until it felt real and unescapable. 

There was always one, one being that scared him more than any other. It confused him so much, because he was just a man. 

Azrael woke him up, hugging him tightly and whispering soft reassurances into his ear. They didn't talk about it anymore. Azrael just held him until he stopped trembling and got a bearing on his surroundings. Salem stared at the top of the tent until his heart steadied, breathing in the scent of his mate and erasing the memory of blood.