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Apprehension drifted through me. “Stuck?”

“Uh-huh.” She twisted all the way around, her gaze on the snowy wasteland that stretched for miles in every direction. “I can only travel the wind to places I’ve been before.”

“You’ve been to Gelhella?” Like most magical planes, it sat like a layer over its human version. But Gelhella was even more desolate than its non-magical counterpart. The place was winter on steroids, and with none of the charm. Not a polar bear or cute penguin in sight.

“My father insisted I visit all the magical planes,” Georgie said. “He wanted me to be able to travel freely, but Gelhella is so cold I didn’t go far before I chickened out and caught a current home.” Her tone grew distracted as she peered into the distance. “Still, some of this looks familiar. I feel like I could get us closer…”

“Just out of curiosity, lass, what happens in one of these stuck scenarios?”

“Well, we’d wander for a bit—”

“Wander through the hurricane?” Because hell no.

She looked at me, her frown deepening. “Is that what it felt like to you?”

Alarms blared in my head. The lads liked to give me shit for my heritage but my incubus blood was good for a few things, and one of those things was knowing when a woman was gearing up to use my intestines as a necklace. Maybe some nice kidney earrings to match.

I straightened, and then made my face the picture of a reasonable, supportive male. “Your wind felt just fine to me, witchling. But don’t you think you should conserve your power?” I nodded toward the snowy dunes to our right. “I could shift and fly us over much of this terrain.” I’d suggested it as soon as we stumbled into the Arctic, but Georgie had promptly quashed that idea, arguing that it was foolish to waste my energy flying in such difficult conditions. She had a point. My wings would ice over quickly, requiring frequent stops. On the other hand, feeling her sleek thighs squeezing my flanks would have been well worth the hassle.

She gazed at the dunes, obviously reconsidering her decision. Then she shook her head. “No. We don’t know what kind of reception we’ll get when we reach the White Gate. If we have to fight, we’ll need your strength.”

Desire curled through my limbs—and settled in my dick, which decided it operated just fine in subzero temperatures. I reached out and tugged one of Georgie’s plaits. “You think I’m strong.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“You like my muscles, witchling. You’ll hear no kink-shaming from me.”

“That’s not a kink.”

“It is when you think about it as often as you do.”

Her cheeks went a touch pinker. “I can pull the air from your lungs, dragon.”

“Something to try in the bedroom later.”

Her sigh of exasperation puffed white in the air, but her voice held a tremor of amusement as she turned and started walking again. “Are you ever serious?”

“All the time,” I said, falling into step beside her. “Especially when it’s about fucking you senseless.”

“We’ve slept together once.”

“Aye, and it’s now my life’s goal to remedy that oversight.”

She laughed, and the low, throaty sound immediately made me adjust my life goals. In my head, I scribbled out fuck Georgie senseless and wrote make Georgie laugh as much as possible.

Well, maybe they could be concurrent goals.

I speared my hiking pole into a chunk of snow. “Once I use my big muscles to power past the White Gate, what comes next?”

She slanted me a look. “What do you mean?”

“The North Wind is sentient, yes? That’s what makes it an Oracle.”

“Yes. I mean, that’s what I’ve read.”

“So do we have to fight it or something? Or is it like you answer a riddle or sit down and play a game of chess with it?”

“Don’t make fun.”