The Warrior King (Inferno Rising #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,35

was warped and curved, as though he was peering through a prism or maybe a crystal ball. The curving made it difficult to see exactly what lay beyond. Blobs of white and green and blue. A house, maybe?

“This might be a tight squeeze,” she warned. “I’d go through one of the bathroom mirrors, but I’m not sure what we’ll find there, so I’m trying something else. I’ll go first.”

“Wait.” Without thinking, Samael shot out a hand and grabbed her arm.

Just as fast he yanked his hand away as realization struck that he was touching her fire. Then he paused, lifting that same hand to hold it in front of his face, watching in silent fascination as the flames he’d taken away with him danced across his skin with no impact. No burning. Then, the tip of one licking red flame turned black, then another, and another, until the fire had become his own.

Samael lowered his hand slowly, his focus moving to the woman standing in front of him, watching in wide-eyed silence.

Her mouth parted, and he startled as it hit him that she knew, too. Or at least suspected.

Meira Amon was his fated mate.

In the worst possible moment, all he wanted to do was ask her if he was right.

“That wasn’t the smartest move,” she murmured.

“I’m well aware.” In more ways than one. More ways than she probably realized herself, which was either a blessing or a curse.

Through sheer will, he tipped his head at the image still displayed in the mirror. “Where are you taking us?”

When they’d discussed this earlier, she’d only said far away. Somewhere in the colonies not close to any dragon settlements. Somewhere safe.

She turned her head to stare at it, too, emotions playing across her features in swift array. He didn’t catch them all, but the one that was unmistakable was an anguish-laden dread.

“Home,” she said softly. And stepped into the mirror.

A dread of his own dropped boulders into Samael’s stomach, trying to drag him down as he watched helplessly from his side. Meira’s form twisted and warped until she appeared to drop out of the other side, but she was tiny from his perspective. From what he could tell, she got to her feet, dusted herself off, then her hand appeared through the center of the image on his side.

“Watch out for the last drop.” Her voice sounded as though she was speaking through water, muffled and slurred. “It’s a doozy.”

She’d doused the flames on that part of her body despite what just happened. He grasped her hand, soft but still warm from her fire against his, and had to fight his mind and the crazy idea looming larger by the second. His dragon side wanted to curl around her. This time, instead of the sensation of walking through water and a doorway, his field of vision shrank and narrowed, like walking through a circular tunnel. Good thing he didn’t suffer from claustrophobia.

“Jump,” her muffled voice commanded.

Into what? All he could see was a smaller bent image of her in a field, blue sky behind her, and blackness around the edges. Nothing.

“Trust me,” she called.

Samael jumped.

The world hurtled toward him, the same way the earth did when he tucked his wings in tight and dropped straight down, rushing up at him with each passing millisecond. His feet hit solid ground and his body hit Meira, tumbling them both to the ground. Samael didn’t have time to flip so that he took the brunt of the impact, but he did manage to get a hand under her head.

The world solidified to the right size half a second later, and he found himself nose to nose with her, gazing into eyes slowly turning whiter.

My mate.

Immediately, his body stirred to the feel of her under him, her soft hair against his hand, her scent filling his lungs.

But gods above, she smelled amazing. “You smell…”

He cut himself off before he could say the wrong thing. Like how she smelled of heaven and ambrosia.

Wariness gazed back at him. “I do?” She wrinkled her nose as he left the sentence hanging.

“Not bad, just…” He stared at her dumbly, even as a voice in the back of his head told him to get up. Get off her. “My mother used to grow vines of jasmine in our cave using a system of trellises and aiming the mirrored lighting at the plants, filling our home with the scent when they bloomed.”

Meira tipped her head, her silky hair winding more around the fingers