already half read my mind. So strong. So powerful. In a moment, I would seal the connection between us. My blood hummed with the promise of it.
“I know,” I answered. “Somehow I’ve always known. There’s a spot. In a valley like this. Where this same river flows.”
“The rocks form an arch,” she said the last bit with me, once again knowing my mind.
“You’ve been there?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “But I think I’ve dreamt it. I’ve seen a house. A cabin, but enormous. I think I’m meant to build it for you.”
Her smile radiated. God. Her fire pulled me. She lifted a hand, brushing the hair away from her eyes. With her back to the sun, I could see her shape clearly through the white cotton dress she wore.
Her hips. Her legs slightly parted. Her breasts with darkened nipples, waiting to be sucked.
Then a shadow fell. Fingers appeared, disembodied, closing around her neck. Phaedra pitched backward. The air shimmered behind her.
I tried to run. My feet felt as if they were encased in cement. I reached for her.
Phaedra struggled to breathe. Her mouth opened and closed. She screamed, but no sound came out.
Krall.
He materialized as a tall, spindly figure. Pure fae, no pretense of anything human. His fingernails elongated to knife-like appendages. He raised one, poising it right above Phaedra’s pulsing jugular.
One slash. One instant. He would open her throat. He would take her from me.
My wolf ripped out of me. Though Brandhart had wings, I was the one who could fly.
Krall’s laughter filled the sky. I would hear it. Over and over for the rest of my life. Taunting. Baiting.
Lightning crackled. Sparks flew from Phaedra’s fingertips but landed wild. So fast. So deadly. Krall came for one thing. Revenge.
I landed hard, tearing Krall’s body from Phaedra’s. Blood covered my face. It tasted like charred steel.
A bolt hit me in the chest, knocking me sideways, tearing the flesh from my bones. I didn't care. I didn’t feel.
Krall’s body shimmered, appearing and reappearing. He was trying to hide. Trying to slip through whatever hellish fae dimension he came from. I wouldn’t let him. I’d already tasted blood.
“Archer!”
My name meant nothing. My life...meant nothing. It was all for her.
My claws tore into the wet earth where Krall had lain. Blood soaked the ground.
Then finally, as the rain fell in earnest, I felt gentle hands pulling at my shoulders.
“Archer,” she said, her voice ragged. He’d done damage. He’d hurt her. But Phaedra still called my name.
I shifted. It hurt. Badly. It was then I realized the blood I tasted was my own.
“Archer,” Phaedra said as I died in her arms. I looked up at her.
“Krall.” God. I didn’t want that to be the last word I spoke, but I had to know.
“Dead,” she answered. “Gone.”
She was smiling. What the hell? Phaedra was smiling. I knew I was about to die.
She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. A cherry red drop of it pooled. Still smiling, she leaned down to kiss me.
Phaedra’s blood. Mine. One. Lightning went off behind my eyes. Fire. Rain. Gravity. Breath. It was as if she’d plugged me into a power grid. Strength flowed through my limbs. The tear in my chest closed.
Agony flooded through me, followed by intense pleasure. As Phaedra carefully stepped back, I rolled sideways and tried to remember how to breathe.
Dragonblood. Phaedra’s. My God. She’d just healed me.
I saw her power then. Pure. Strong. Elemental. Transformed. Rising, I went to her.
“You killed him,” she said. “He’s gone.”
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“He’s not likely to survive without a head,” she said.
I saw it then. For an instant. But Phaedra stepped forward and let off a charge of blue and red fire, turning Krall to ash for good. She took my hand. We turned back to the river. We still had a long way to go.
23
Phaedra
We waited until the moon rose high once more. It seemed fitting. As Archer held me against him, we watched it come into its full glory behind the curtain of water on the other side of the falls.
“I’m going to miss this place,” Archer said. He threaded his fingers through mine.
“We can come back if you want,” I said.
He shook his head. “No. We can’t. Our future isn’t here. It’s back in Durness. I told you. I saw it. I felt it.”
He kept me warm. We kept each other warm.
“And maybe Wild Ridge someday,” she said. “There are people there who still care about you.”
“Yes,” he said. “A few. And I want