Atlas.
Warm, dank air pressed against the back of her neck, fluttering her hair, causing the skin to pebble.
Everinne froze, terror licking along her spine.
Something hot and sticky flicked the tip of her ear, then slid down her cheek to the curve of her throat, where it pulsed and fluttered…like it was tasting her. The barest of breathsslipped between her chapped lips and she suppressed a shudder, glancing down to catch the glimpse of a forked scarlet tongue as it laved across her flesh.
The stench of rot and fetid blood slammed into her.
Everinne shrieked.
She spun, all of her weight crushing her broken ankle, as she swung at the fleshflayer licking her. Another peal of agony wrenched from inside her.
The fleshflayer angled its head, its jaw falling open to reveal rows of tiny sharp teeth. A gurgling, gagging noise erupted from it, and Everinne reared back as its talon-like nails reached for her.
But when she stepped back, there was no more stone or ground to steady her, and her foot caught only air.
Thebaukvistlunged and she fell toward the bottomless lake, the freezing air rushing past her ears, her scream echoing through the mountains so they rumbled and quaked in fear for her.
She collided mid-air with something hard and warm, her body collapsing against the solid mass as she was cocooned in layers of fresh cedar, juicy neroli, and tempting spice. The bond flared, spearing her with comforting heat as it soothed the torturous ache buried deep within her heart.
“Atlas,” Everinne choked out his name.
“Hold tight, Ever.” He swept her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “I’ve got you.”
She shoved her wild hair back from her face as they soared, and when the misty glint of sunlight bounced off his loose golden curls and midnight wings, she got her first good look at him.
A sob stuck in the back of her throat.
Blood matted his hair to the side of his face and a gash ran from the corner of his left eye to his chin. The skin of his cheek was discolored where a bluish-purple bruise had formed.His coat was gone, scraps of his shirt stuck to his abdomen, fused by blood and grime. Claw marks mauled most of his flesh, especially across the wolf tattoo on his left chest and shoulder, as though thebaukvisthad tried to scratch the ink off his skin. His breathing was labored, each inhale a coarse wheeze, and she saw the horrid wound left behind on his ribs—one of the fleshflayer’s claws had ripped him open, and a river of crimson trailed down to his hip.
There were so many injuries. And so much blood. Even with the magic of his fae blood, it could take days, perhaps longer, before he was fully healed.
She captured his face, gently cupping his cheeks, and her bottom lip quivered as she spoke. “You’re hurt.”
His gaze slid lazily to her. “You should see the other guys.”
Everinne scowled. “That’s not funny.”
Atlas didn’t even blink. “I’m not laughing.”
She slid her arms around his neck, the tips of her fingers lightly grazing his feathered wings, and he groaned softly, pressing his forehead to hers. “Almost there.”
She couldn’t tell if his voice was hoarse from pain, exhaustion, or something else altogether. So, she blew out a soft breath, shivered into him, and held on as Atlas flew them back to Starysa.
By the time Atlas’s verandah and pool came into view, Everinne’s eyes were heavy with sleep, but it was his pallid and weak complexion that kept her awake. He looked worse than before, and though his grip on her never faltered, she knew he was drained. The wound from the fleshflayer continued to ooze blood, weakening him. His wings moved in a slow and steady rhythm, stretching and gliding as the sleek black feathers dipped in gold sliced through the bitter wind.
Atlas soared over the garden, then tucked his wings and swooped low between the lingering mist, clutching her to his chest.
“Hold your breath, Wildheart.”
Everinne sucked in a gulp of air, curling into Atlas as he plunged them into the pool. Warm water surrounded her, rushing past her ears, soothing the chill that settled in her blood and the weeping ache of her body. The familiar pulse of Atlas’s heart fell into cadence with her own, yet beyond the perpetual beating, there was something else. A feminine voice, lyrical and soft, called to her, the discordant words barely a whisper in a language Everinne didn’t understand. The song was calming, like an atmospheric lullaby, slowly luring her to sleep.
A moment later, Atlas shot skyward, and they crashed through the surface of the pool, the eerily haunting voice fading like the remnants of the night.
Everinne gasped and sputtered, shoving her soaking hair back from her face as Atlas easily maneuvered them both through the steaming crystal waters. He looped an arm around her waist and used the other to cut through the pool, swimming toward the sloping, smooth ledge that gradually disappeared beneath the water’s edge. He hauled them onto the shimmery gray stone veined with ribbons of silver and Everinne dropped onto her back, chest heaving, as Atlas collapsed beside her.
The heated, serene pool water covered most of her body, and tiny waves lapped near her shoulders, neck, and ears. Her uneven breaths puffed out before her in bursts of frosty mist, as curls of steam wafted across the pool like a marine layer rolling in from the Ladova Bay. The stabbing pain in her ankle subsided and she relaxed, a weightless sensation moving through her while she wiggled her fingers and toes to regain some feeling. Her leather leggings clung to her skin and the torn sweater floated in pieces around her, the violet fabric billowing in thesmall ripples. Beside her, Atlas groaned in discomfort, and she rolled onto her side to examine him.
