The Hunter and the Mage (The Raven and the Dove #2) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,165

And somehow she'd found herself draped between them, carried aloft by their loving arms. She didn’t know what she'd done to deserve such devotion, but she knew right then and there that she would spend the rest of her life fighting to earn it. If these two people had found her worthy of saving, then maybe, just maybe, she was.

As they raced into the mist, part of her wanted to scream, No! Don't take me to Malek! He won't help me! But that was the coward's way, and she was done being afraid. Instead, she thought, Yes. Deliver me to the belly of the beast. Let me make home in the dark halls of his castle and the dank canals of his city, unheard and unseen. Let me fight the only way I know how.

Spying was in her blood. That would never change. Lying and deceiving were her two greatest weapons, and it was time to turn them on a new target. If Cassi was a spy, let her be their spy. Let her help them bring Malek to his knees.

55

Brighty

Brighty ran through the streets, keeping her gaze plastered on the fog as she studied the charcoal folds for the barest hint of fire, her photo'kine eyes more attuned to shifts in light than any others. Come on, Rafe. Come on!

She'd seen everything. The warehouse exploding. He and the queen rising from the ashes. The wave ready to crush the city. And then their fight with the king. She wasn't entirely sure what had called her from her slumber in the middle of the night, except to say she'd had a feeling, a very bad feeling. Before she knew it, she'd found herself dashing along the rooftops of Da'Kin, drawn toward the spot where she'd last seen Rafe.

And it was a good thing.

Because she was pretty sure the bloody idiot was lost.

Where are you? Magic alive, where'd you go?

He'd taken to the sky as soon as the queen was out of sight, his wings blazing with fire as he disappeared into the mist. The king's golden magic followed him into the air, but it hadn’t been enough to stop him. She'd never seen anything like it. Aethi'kine magic didn't seem to penetrate his skin, or maybe it did, and the heat melted it away. Either way, he'd vanished, and she'd thought it had been for good, until she’d caught an orange flash in the sky. He’d dipped close to the city, seemingly searching for something, his body bobbing in the air as though it were a struggle to stay afloat. Golden power had chased after him as soon as he’d appeared, and he’d vanished again. They'd done that about six times since, and each time he looked weaker and weaker. He was searching for the ship with the circles he was taking, she knew he was, but they were in the completely wrong section of the city.

Come on, Rafe.

There. A blaze lit the sky, sinking rapidly toward the city, dropping faster and faster, as though he were…

Oh, for magic's sake!

He was literally falling out of the sky, his body burning like a comet as it shot toward a city built of wood. Brighty ran, forgoing stealth for speed as shingles slipped off rooftops, leaving a trail of shatters in her wake. Leaping from building to building, she made for the spot where he'd disappeared. The flames caught her eyes first, an angry glow stretching for the sky. The king would be there in no time, with his pyro'kines in tow. They'd grab him unless she got there first.

Brighty plowed into the fire, keeping her forearm raised to guard her face as the heat stung her skin. "Rafe! Rafe!"

There was no answer.

A few more steps and she nearly stumbled over his body. "Rafe!"

Magic alive, why did he have to be so large? He'd towered over her before, but now, with those wings, he might as well have been a giant as she tried to wedge her shoulder under his arm, careful to avoid the scales still sizzling with heat. Even his skin burned, a dull pain she'd be able to ignore—at least for now. She couldn't, however, ignore that he was heavy. Her legs shook under the strain as she tried to lug him out of the fire. They'd been lucky he'd landed in an open courtyard. If she'd had to carry him up a flight of stairs or fish him from the canal, they never would have made it. As