than a jabekk’s defensive spray. It lingers in the air, burning our already strained lungs. A green mist hovers over it, billowing with each exploding bubble.
Harlow falls to her knees in a fit, choking and clutching her throat. Dev scurries to find her some water from the bag we packed and presses it to her lips. She downs the water, the liquid leaking from the corners of her lips and down her neck.
“I’m okay,” she rasps after finishing it. “I’m okay.”
“How much farther, little mate?” Dev grumbles. “We need to get you out of here.”
Harlow closes her eyes again, a grimace tugging her features. “We’re close. Take my hands.”
My brave little mate stands again, her hands open and to her sides as Dev and I slip ours over hers. I’m practically beaming with pride as I watch her face this, her unquestionable trust evident as she shuts off her vision to use her other senses.
She’s vekking incredible.
And she’s mine.
Ours, elon, Dev corrects inside my head.
Ours, I agree.
“Will you two please shut the fuck up and let me focus?” Dev’s eyebrows shoot up at Harlow’s brashness.
“Of course, little mate. Consider us silenced.” A smile pulls at her lips, but she squashes it down and guides us towards a looming mountain. As we approach, there is less and less hope to be found. The mountain appears impenetrable. Just as I’m about to ask her if she’s sure, Harlow drops our hands and darts ahead.
“Harlow, wait!” I call, chasing after her. She pauses at the base of the mountain and cranes her neck, staring up to its peak where it penetrates the clouds, then she places her hands on the mountain and walks, feeling the heated stone beneath her fingertips.
“Here,” she states, her hands resting on the mountainside.
“Where?” I look around, trying to see if there’s anything out of the ordinary.
“Here,” she says again, and turns to gaze at me just as her arm sinks into the stone. I lunge for her, but she pulls her hand out to show me it’s okay. “It’s just an illusion. It’s fake. Come on, we’re close.”
With determination on her face, Harlow steps through the mountain and disappears with Dev right on her heels. I turn back once more and scan the area to ensure we’ve not been followed, then I go in after them.
I emerge into a tunnel with ceilings just high enough to allow me to stand. The walls are narrow and primitively carved, the chisel marks still evident in the sides. The first thing I notice is the choking heat, the air thick with something worse than smoke. It burns my nose and sears my lungs, causing me to wonder how any living creature could possibly survive here.
I wave my hand in front of my face, trying to clear the air, but it’s no use. Sticky sweat forms quickly on my skin, making me desperate for a cool dip in our pond back at our cave.
“Listen,” Harlow whispers, holding her hand up for us to stop. We pause. The ominous sound of rattling chains reaches our ears, followed by a harrowing roar. Harlow jumps at the noise, her back pressed to Dev’s front as he curls one arm around her, the other holding a poised nakket. After a moment, she pulls away from my elon. “It’s okay. I-I think it’s him.”
“Him who?” I ask quietly, not wanting to disturb the creature at the end of this tunnel.
“Takkar. He’s here. I can feel him.”
My chest clenches tightly, the hope I’ve tried to bottle up spilling out of its glass container.
Could it really be him?
“This way.” Harlow takes a left, following a lowly lit tunnel illuminated by a single, flickering candle set inside a niche. The nook is overflowing with wax, hardened tracks of it flowing down the sides to a massive, cooled puddle on the floor. The display makes me wonder how many thousands of candles have burned in this place.
Fifty years’ worth, perhaps?
Another roar sounds, the voice behind it eerily familiar. I hear the word ‘no’ echoing off the stone walls over and over and over again. Just as it grows quiet, a new shout booms, the haunting screams sounding like my elon’s name this time. “Bakkar!”
“Vekk this,” Dev growls, before taking off down the tunnel with Harlow right behind him. I keep my mate in sight as we follow the twists and turns, his yells and roars growing closer, his rage evident in his tone.
Images play in my head of what Harlow has