Page 65

Jessamine’s blonde hair was slick with sweat and tied back, but wisps had escaped, which she brushed back.

“Can you walk?” she asked.

Arabella managed to shake her head.

“I’ll carry her.”

It was Breckett.

“If that demon gets too close to us, your fighting skills will be more useful than mine.”

The erox scooped Arabella up into his arms and ran northward. She was too tired to object or even feel surprised. She must have passed out because the next she knew, she felt the rumble of Breckett’s voice where her cheek pressed against his chest. Blinking, she opened her eyes.

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, his voice breathless.

Turning in the direction Breckett’s gaze was fixed, she spotted a line of mountains on the horizon as though they’d pressed through the desert sands to point jagged peaks at the sky.

Jessamine made a sound of assent before turning and heading in the opposite direction. “Get Arabella to those mountains. We have to find cover and water, or we’re all going to die.”

“Where are you going?” Breckett gasped.

Jessamine sighed. “To help a princeling.”

Before either Arabella or Breckett could object, Jessamine was running back toward Hadeon—and the zaol that had gotten dangerously close to them. It was less than half a mile away, its dark silhouette looming atop a sandy hill.

They watched as Jessamine hurdled toward where the fae prince flew at the zaol. Hadeon slashed with his sword, but the blade didn’t connect. The swing was slower than it had been hours ago and missed its mark. The demon lashed out with one of its too-long arms, and it slammed into the prince’s back. He was flung down into the sand, barely managing to tuck his wings in before rolling down a nearby hill.

As the demon moved to strike at him a second time, Jessamine leaped between them, her sword arcing up at an unusual angle and slicing off several of the creature's fingers before its claws could sink into Hadeon’s wings.

Then Breckett turned and ran. His breaths turned into gasps, and sweat poured off him as she fought to stay awake.

“Save your strength,” he rasped, glancing down at her. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it if we make it to those mountains.”

Reluctantly, she nodded and closed her eyes, slipping into unconsciousness.

She dreamed of dark skies and darker horizons, of Shadowbank set aflame, and Elias’ castle buried beneath the sea. She raged against hordes of demons, fighting to push them back. But no matter how many times she swung her sword or released her magic, the villagers fell one by one, succumbing to sharp fangs and curved talons. Blood-strewn bodies littered the ground, and she found herself searching for one face in particular.

There was a male on his stomach, his face in the dirt. His body was streaked with grime and soot, but she knew the shape of those arms. And how they felt when they wrapped around her. As she reached toward him, the ground shook beneath her.

Suddenly, there was a sensation of her flying.

She opened her eyes.

The world spun around her before she crashed into coarse sand, rolling several times. Blinking, she tried to get her bearings, but her vision continued to spin. She shook her head, sinking her fingers into the sand and willing her vision to clear.

They were at the base of the mountain range.

It stretched in either direction as far as the eye could see, and a thick layer of mist hovered around the mountain directly before them. Far above, she thought she spotted snow on the mountaintops, but she couldn’t be sure.

Unlike the mountainous forest near Shadowbank, these seemed to be mostly bare of trees. Instead, they were dotted with stones and large sections of moss.

Strangest of all, the sands of the endless desert simply stopped at the base of the mountains. Two separate terrainsfrom completely different climates collided and formed a stark line where one ended and another began.

Glancing around, she spotted a body several feet away and crawled toward it.

Nearby, there were screams of pain along with the zaol’s roar.

Fingers digging into the sand, she barely managed to haul herself over to where Breckett lay facedown in the sand. With all her strength, she shoved him sideways. When she didn’t see the rise and fall of his chest, she lifted a hand and struck him above his heart. To her relief, he coughed and muttered, but he didn’t open his eyes. His breaths came in a wheeze, and she didn’t miss how his beauty was sharper than ever. Being near him had her desire sparking instantly, and she clamped her thighs together.