THE CRITICAL SITUATION (12)

"This is not a good idea, Zaya." Rowan didn't let go of her wrist, as he tried to stop her from approaching the shield where the twelve black magic users had created.

The heat from the shield burned them. Rowan had already taken off his armor, because it was made of steel and he felt like he was being roasted, even the hilt of his sword was too hot for him to touch.

"Indeed." Zaya nodded. She raised her hand and looked at Rowan's hand that held her, she chuckled at him. "Maybe if we can survive this, you can ask my hand to my brother."

"I have. He rejected and he said you like woman."

Zaya rolled her eyes and then tiptoed to peck his lips. "Now, go."

"A peck couldn't make me leave you, princess."