inside the socks, he wrapped the dark green wool scarf around his neck and lower face, then slung the duffel over his shoulder again. “I’ll be careful,” he promised. “My mate is waiting for me.”
He could almost hear Honor’s laughter. The last time he’d said that to her, she’d asked him a question. “What if she’s annoyed with you because you made her wait all this time? What then?”
Naasir had been stumped for a while—he’d never really thought about the fact that maybe his mate had lived longer than him, had been waiting for him to be ready. Things like that did happen. Honor was younger than Dmitri, but Jessamy was older than Galen.
“I’ll court her,” he’d said after careful thought. “I’ll convince her the wait was worth it.”
That in mind, he filled the remaining hours of his journey to the Refuge with courtship plans. It almost made him forget the brittle cold and the sheer danger of the ice, the jagged rocks around him not looming threats but familiar adversaries. Unlike the hapless climbers who, between them, had broken countless limbs before ever getting this far, Naasir knew how to navigate the sharp natural teeth that guarded the angelic stronghold. He didn’t need to walk. He could run, his booted feet sure on the glaciers and ice sheets he preferred over the deep snow, and his eyes seeing every risk.
When the shadow of large wings swept over him as the sun was about to sink below the horizon, he looked up. Vivid red hair lit to scarlet brilliance by the final rays of the sun and dark gray wings striated with white, Galen dipped his wings to acknowledge Naasir’s wave, then circled around to land not far away.
“Were you watching for me?” Naasir asked upon reaching the wide-shouldered male.
“I was expecting to have to go out to the foothills.” The weapons-master embraced Naasir in a backslapping hug that almost knocked him off his feet, Galen was so strong. “You must’ve cut at least two hours off your previous time.”
“I’m faster.” He was growing in ways even Keir didn’t understand and the healer understood many things; all anyone knew was that while Naasir was an adult full grown, his abilities and gifts hadn’t yet settled into their final form.
You are the only one of your kind ever to survive to adulthood. There is no blueprint for your development, no way of predicting your ultimate strength.
“When you have time, we’ll have to test how much faster.” Galen’s voice broke into the echo of Keir’s words. “Are you planning to run the entire way in?”
“Yes.” Naasir had been carried by angels as a child and he’d liked it. No longer. Now he wanted the ground beneath his feet—he didn’t even like riding in the baskets the squadrons utilized to ferry in non-winged guests. “Tell Jessamy I’m coming for dinner.”
His smile reaching the unusually pale green of his eyes, Galen spread his wings. “She’s been watching for you since dawn.”
That delighted Naasir. Waiting until Galen had taken off in a powerful beat of wings that drew a flurry of snow up into the air, Naasir stepped up his pace even further, until to anyone watching, he’d have been a blur. More wings passed overhead an hour later, the aerial traffic increasing steadily until he began to hear the rush of landings, the beat of takeoffs, the laughter and conversation of people going about their lives.
The sky was a soft black broken only by several early stars when the snow suddenly ended, warmer air against his chilled face.
He went straight to Jessamy and Galen’s house on the cliff.
“Naasir!” A vampire, his poison-green eyes slitted like those of a viper and his dark, dark brown hair having grown to touch the collar of his T-shirt, caught him in an embrace on the paved yard outside the house.
Slapping Venom on the back, Naasir dropped his duffel to the paving stones, the small yard edged with pots bursting with flowers. “I see Galen hasn’t broken you yet.” He took in the younger man’s jeans and simple black T-shirt. “No more suits?” Venom was well known for his dangerously elegant appearance, his grace as liquid as it was lethal.
“Who cares about suits when I’m getting my ass handed to me in the training ring every day.” Venom winced and pointed to a blue-black bruise on his jaw, the color vivid against the warm brown of his skin. “Sometimes I’m not sure if Galen’s teaching me or trying to