The Hunter and the Mage (The Raven and the Dove #2) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,142

an inferno. The fire wove through every fiber of his soul, like threads spun of flame being sewn to his skin.

Rafe waited for blissful oblivion, but it never came.

Every time his mind started to go dark, something prodded it back, and the process began anew—more burning, more fire, more pain.

On and on.

With no end in sight.

Until the agony transported him somewhere else, and suddenly he was a child again, buried beneath his mother's body as a sea of flames crashed into their rooms, setting his life ablaze. The acrid smell of burned flesh stung his nose. Screams of terror and pain tore through the air, a sound he'd never forget, replaced by a silence that was somehow worse, nothing but the crackle and pop of fire, the sizzling more familiar than any lullaby. He was broken, lying there and waiting for the end. He didn't try to move. He didn't try to run. He didn’t want to leave his mother and father. He wanted to follow them to Taetanos's realm, and for a brief moment, as his world went dark, he thought he had—until he woke to find his brother above him, tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

Xander.

His name broke through the blaze.

Xander.

He was in danger.

He needed—he needed—

The thought disappeared as a wave of heat pulled Rafe under. There was another creature drowning with him, whose screeches he didn’t understand, whose language was different, whose body was beastly, but whose mind cried out in a way that pierced him with recognition. They were together in this, whatever this was. Their spirits were entwined.

Save us, he pleaded, to the gods, to the mist, to whoever was listening. Save us.

But this time, there would be no Xander to pull him from the wreckage. This time, there would be no mysterious dove to heal his wounds. This time, there would be no ship full of strangers waiting to pluck him from the sky. Brighty had been right, back on the ship, spewing words he didn’t want to hear. No one was worried about him. No one was coming. No one cared. Not anymore.

And then he felt her.

Like a winter storm, her magic blew in, wild and untamed, fierce and unforgiving, a brief respite from the heat as frigid air brushed against his skin.

Ana, he thought as the fire fought to claim him. You came.

45

Lyana

The warehouse shone with the brilliance of the sun, almost blinding as Lyana raced through the mist. Flames chased the darkness away, the scent of burned wood filling the air, but it was the golden current of Malek's power that glowed brightest. Her wings sliced at the fog. The muscles in her back burned with a familiar heat, making her feel strong as the city passed beneath her in a blur—houses and canals blending into a series of shapeless shadows flowing like a river. She wasn't moving fast enough. Against the maelstrom of a city full of aching spirits, Rafe's cries struck like lightning, so piercing that everything else was left in shadow.

Lyana's magic arched across the sky with a speed she envied, crashing into the warehouse, fueled by a single command—Stop!

Malek's response was a swift, No.

His magic hit her like a wall. Lyana ricocheted off the golden wave, flipping in midair as the blast shot her backward. But the sky was her domain and the wind her kindred spirit. Gusts whooshed by and righted her body, her feathers at a perfect angle to catch the breeze. Invisible currents carried her forward, faster and faster, unleashed and free. Lyana braced for another attack, but Malek must have been too distracted because it never came.

A moment later, she realized why.

Four of his mages waited on the dock in front of the warehouse. Isaak was the only one presenting her with his back, too busy containing the raging fire to worry about her. The other three, though, stood in a line, their shoulders squared as magic simmered at their fingertips—Kal, Jacinta, and Nyomi. They could have been back in the arena, preparing for a training session. But this was real, and it was Rafe on the other side of that door. If Malek had thought an army of three would be enough to stop her, he hadn't been paying attention.

Lyana collapsed her wings and landed on the wet planks in a roll. By the time she stopped in a crouch, their spirits had already been snatched by her talons.

Kal acted first.

The last thing she saw before the world