leg lengths made it harder for her to reach certain holds.
“You think Malin will understand directions?” She scaled another rock. “Find the females?”
“Yes.” He wanted her to concentrate.
“You think we do rescue this rotation?”
“If we can.”
He’d sent Malin ahead to scout out the female’s location and confirm that none of Nayla’s intel had changed. Scaling the cliffs as a group took time, but Malin was an adept climber. Sending him ahead meant no extra time wasted.
Plus, his usually loud and aggressive teammate had been strangely quiet all rotation. Not even a single complaint about Nayla’s suggestion being a delaying tactic. Nor another word about placing Nayla under lock and key.
Grif’s gut wouldn’t stop blaring in alarm.
But whatever he thought about Malin personally, he could not make himself believe the warrior would do anything to jeopardize the mission.
So, he’d given the male very explicit instructions. Scout only. No engagement.
After a scowling, prideful look in Lana’s direction, Malin had freeclimbed it out of there faster than Grif would have thought possible.
Few others, though, were finding the climb as easy.
“I thought we were a team.” Hurt roughened Nayla’s voice. “But you barely talk to me. You tell me nothing of rescue plan.”
Was that true? He was so busy planning and watching, staying on the alert, he probably had grown more distance. But then again, so had she.
“Or why,” she continued, “you, Zale, or Bain always by my side.”
She’d noticed. He’d wondered if she would. Until the ghost business was settled, though, that was the way it was going to be. “Now is not the time.”
“You think—”
“Nayla, stop asking questions and focus,” he growled.
At least she was almost to the top.
She swiveled to glare at him, strands of hair plastered to her temple. Her chest was heaving, her skin shimmering even more than usual, but she definitely looked proud. “I’m fine. I told you. I can care for myself.”
“And I told you, these are not normal times.”
Still, now was not the time for a rehash. He’d checked her rope three times. It was secure and she was strapped in tight. He’d covered all his bases.
He breathed a sigh of relief as she heaved one arm and leg over the edge and started to slide onto her belly.
No need to worry, after all. He could—
His rope snapped.
Acting on instinct, he grabbed hold of the nearest rock tip. The jagged surface cut into his skin as he dangled by the single handhold.
“Grif!” Nayla threw herself forward, seizing his free wrist with one hand while she gripped her rope as an anchor.
She tugged, trying to pull him up. All that happened was that she slipped forward a few inches, his weight dragging her down.
“It’s okay.” Blood seeped beneath his hold, making his grip slippery as his legs stretched, searching for a ledge that didn’t appear.
He saw Lana and Cam on top scrambling toward him. He heard Zale’s and Quil’s shouts from below. But most of all, he observed the cracks spreading through the rock beneath his grip, small pebbles already pinging their way down the cliffside.
“Hold on.” Ears twitching, Nayla tugged harder.
“Let go.” He reached for the rope at his hip.
“What? No!”
“My handhold is disappearing. When it goes, I will drop. I’m not taking you with me.”
“No. Others are coming. They help me pull you up. Sharluff help, too.”
“Not in time.”
“Th-then, I help swing you to my rope.” She sounded frantic. “We do together.”
The crack in the rock lengthened. “I’m too heavy. All that will happen is you fall with me. That I won’t allow. Let go. I will loop my rope around a stronger rock.”
“Th-that won’t work and you know it!”
“It’s the only option I’ve got. Let go.” If he failed, Ryker would make sure Nayla was safe. He would succeed where Grif had fallen short
“No. We a team.” Determination flared in her iridescent gaze. “If you go to Void, I go too.”
She seized hold of his wrist with both hands, leaving her body dangling over the ledge.
“Nayla, no!”
“Together.” She threw her body to the side, giving him no choice.
With a roar, he used the extra momentum to launch his body toward the rope.
He caught it—barely—propelled by terror and the image of her body broken on the rocks below. His hands closed around the thick strand just as she tumbled over the edge, her hands still locked to his wrist.
He held tight, fighting gravity as he yanked her upright and flung her back over the edge.
Gripping the rope with two hands, he scrambled up behind.
She was