already shoving to her knees and launching herself into his arms. A triumphant glow on her face. “You safe. We did it.”
Her voice sounded as if it came from under water, but he knew it was just the roar of adrenaline muffling everything else. The faint, relieved shouts of his crewmates also echoed in the distance.
Grif wrapped his arms around Nayla and held tight.
“Don’t ever fucking do something like that again.” His voice was a low growl, his fury and fear a sharp blade in his chest
If he hadn’t been fast enough, if he hadn’t been as strong, if she hadn’t been so light, she would be dead.
Empty green eyes flashed in his mind, sharper and more vivid than before.
He’d thought losing his sister would be the most agonizing thing that happened to him, until now.
“You’re hurt. Sharluff has paste. I be right back.”
She slipped from his hold, leaving his arms as empty as the widening hole inside his chest.
He rubbed at his sternum and noticed the tracks of crimson snaking from his forearm and dripping into the dirt. The cut had to be deep. It was another reminder he’d been lucky to hold on as long as he had. Lucky too he’d been able to grip the rope and catch her at the same time. If not, he might have lived, but Nayla would have died.
Died. On his watch. While his heart still beat and his pain and grief swallowed him whole.
“Grif? Are you okay?” A worried-looking Lana sank onto her knees beside him. Cam stood sentinel behind, a silent, dark-eyed presence. “Nayla has gone to get some supplies to bandage your hand.”
Neither female had spoken to him directly since that night at the fire. He’d gotten his share of dirty looks, but neither was looking at him with anger now, only concern.
“What happened?” Lana sounded breathless, her eyes full of fright. She examined his hand as she spoke.
“My rope snapped.” Whether it was more bad luck or deliberate, he couldn’t say until he’d examined it. The bulk of it lay in a heap at the bottom of the cliff, but a shorter portion still dangled from the rock where he’d initially secured it. He’d be taking a look at it the moment his legs started working right.
“Do you think it was the ghost?”
“No.”
Both of them seemed surprised. Lana’s hold on his palm tightened while Cam’s lips pressed tight and her scar whitened.
“No stranger could have slipped in and done that.” He left the rest of his words unsaid.
But both understood, their eyes growing wide.
“I don’t… I can’t… Well, it must have been an accident then.” Lana nodded as if the question was decided. “It was very brave of you both to do what you did.”
“You’re lucky to be alive,” added Cam.
“True.” He forced himself to meet their gazes head-on. It had always been hard for him when it came to Cam. Even now, she reminded him of all he hadn’t been able to do, and the fact that Melody and Hope’s mother was still out there.
Another female he’d failed to save.
Nayla had almost been another.
Zale and Bain, having finally made it to the top, hustled over. So did the rest of the crew. He waved them away with the assurance that he was fine and the gruff order to get the tents set up. The last thing he wanted was more people fussing over him. He also wanted to be alone when he examined the rope.
“It would be good if you checked Nayla out when she comes back.” He extracted his palm from Lana’s hold and tried to pretend the monster inside him wasn’t clawing to break free and do something. Vanquish something. Break something. Battle something. Just so he could feel less out of control. “I had to toss her fast. I suspect she landed hard.”
“Yes. She’ll clearly do anything for you.” Lana paused and he knew they were finally getting to the real reason she and Cam had come. “I hope you’re willing to do the same.”
He sat taller. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”
“I don’t mean risk your life. Or perform some physical feat or battle some danger. I’m talking about letting her go. Being with you only seems to put her more and more at risk.”
The female was relentless.
Cam said nothing.
“Nayla can tell me what she wants,” he told them both. “She is very clear on the fact that she knows what she needs. Whatever you may think of the outcome, my intent