The Warrior King (Inferno Rising #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,68

of black death, eyes alight with flame. “If they’re not, yours is the head I take first.”

He’d take those odds. Ladon wouldn’t abuse his position. Samael was sure of that. “I won’t even run,” he said to Rune. “In the meantime, back away from Meira and let’s talk about getting the rest of us out.”

…

Meira’s senses returned to her one at a time. Eyelids weighted with sandbags, the steady rise and fall beneath her head reached her first.

Am I on a boat?

No. Only her head was moving in that way. A now-familiar scent wrapped around her. Desert and fire.

Samael.

She sucked in a sharp breath as memories bombarded her all at once.

“You’re okay. You’re safe. Mostly.” His voice rumbled against her cheek. “You seem to be a target for danger. Rocks tried to take you out this time.”

Rocks?

Meira forced one eye to open and gave herself a minute to adjust to the fact that she was still in the hidden cavern, the damp of it leaving a film on her skin and probably frizzing her curls. Except things had changed since her last memory.

Samael was here. With her.

The relief that clenched and released inside her reflected the same emotions coming off him. Like waves beating against a shore before retreating, the force of it was more violent than she was prepared to deal with. She sucked in another sharp breath, disguising a sob, and jerked upright, leaning one hand against his belly to prop herself up, and stilled. Samael watched her with fathomless black eyes. But his emotions…subtly shifted.

Why did she suddenly feel as though the sun had burst back into her life? In this dark cave up against a creature hewn from night, she shouldn’t. But she was fire and joy and happiness all over. “You’re here?”

His lips tilted slightly. “I’m here.”

“You were outside—” Meira swallowed, her hand fisting in his shirt, twisting it up and contorting it. Samael stayed perfectly still, watching. Waiting.

For what?

“You left me,” she whispered, knowing that wasn’t fair in a fuzzy way.

His flinch twitched against her palm. “I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t his fault. She had a horrible feeling it was hers. More memories floated to the top of a mind struggling with everything she’d gone through and still blurry with exhaustion.

She wanted only one thing. To give in.

So she did.

Meira collapsed against him, wrapping an arm around his neck and burying her face in his chest, breathing in his strength. “My uncle is dead,” she choked.

She’d hardly known him, and yet that loss wanted to tumble her into darkness. Into going back to the gargoyles and hiding in peace. But she couldn’t do that, because people needed her.

Hard arms pulled her closer, settled her against him, and lashed her there as though he’d never let her go again. “I know. I’m sorry for that, too.”

“Sam…I only just found him. I had questions.” She gulped, trying hard not to let the tears pressing against her eyes fall. “We didn’t have enough time.”

His arms convulsed against her, almost as though clutching her to him. “I know you’re hurting and tired, Mir. But we can’t stay here.”

Of all the things she expected him to say, it wasn’t that. Slowly Meira lifted away, only now more came into focus beyond Samael.

Dragon shifters, all those she had yet to save, sat or stood around the room, watching them with serious eyes. Curious eyes.

Eyes reflecting a myriad of questions.

She couldn’t give them answers.

“I’m too exhausted to do more right now,” she said finally. At the same time, she pulled fully out of Samael’s embrace, moving to shaky knees and trying not to let regret at the loss of contact chase her back to him.

“We know,” Sam said.

“My being here brought this down on them, killed my…” She couldn’t say it. Meira closed her eyes and gathered calm around her like a worn and tattered shirt, drawing it from the man beside her.

Then she frowned. “How’d you get here?”

“Rune brought me to a secret passage.”

“You’re unharmed.”

He tucked one of her curls back from her eyes. “We met no resistance. Just a few clueless assholes who flew on by below us.” His mouth tightened, and she knew he was holding back.

“What?”

His eyebrows went up, then he sighed. “I should be annoyed that you read me so well.”

She didn’t follow the red herring. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Sam blew out a short breath. “Brock was leading the men I saw.”

Shock skittered through her. That was too fast. And how had he even known where to