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Jalus eyes the sky. “There’s a thunderstorm coming. I can’t fly in the rain. We have to hurry.” He lifts me into his arms and leaps into the air.

On the flight out, he kept low to the treetops; now he angles his wings to catch the air currents that will carry us higher. It’s a bumpy ascent. I fight nausea and the urge to ask if walking back to the resort is still an option.

Dark clouds roll in fast. Jalus puts on a burst of speed. His labored breathing sounds harsh in my ears.

I’ve just caught sight of the resort in the distance when Jalus suddenly swerves and dives. I shriek, then seal my mouth shut in terrified silence as I catch a glimpse of what he’s evading.

A swordbeak bursts up out of the canopy, circling us in tight spirals for an opening. Jalus is exhausted. What if he can’t fight it off?

The avian swoops, its claw grazing my cheek. There’s an agonizing snap. The bird’s snagged my breather mask, breaking its cord. It falls useless around my neck, and I scream, my lungs filling with forbidden air.

My first unfiltered breath is humid, earthy with the smell of oncoming rain. Then Jalus’s honey scent, unmuted, hits me like a shot of strong liquor. My brain goes fuzzy.Blazes, the man smells absolutely edible.

Jalus dodges and dips into the branches below. He lands hard on a wide limb and sets me down. I fall hard on my butt with my back against the trunk.

“What are you doing?” My voice is shrill with fear. “Don’t leave me here.”

His intoxicating dark eyes find mine. “Trust me,” he murmurs.

Clinging to the tree’s massive trunk, I squint through the treetops as he takes off again, lighter on the wing without me. He draws his thorn daggers from his belt. They’re wicked-sharp, but half the length of a swordbeak maw.What is he thinking?

My breath comes in terrified gasps as Jalus grapples with the swordbeak. He’s not just strong, he’sfast, zipping in circles around the avian. When it catches him in its claws, he strikes, ducking under its sharp beak to stab the thorn through its neck. It releases him as it plummets, and he flits back up to land on the branch where I stand.

He’s dripping blood from deep gashes on his shoulder and one of his lower arms. It’s a shock to realize his blood isn’t red, but a deep violet, nearly black. Surely his thin frame doesn’t have enough of it to spare the amount he’s losing.

I shrug off my outer robe, balling up the thin fabric to put pressure on the shoulder wound. He’s breathing hard, dripping sweat that somehow smells honey-sweet, and gazing up at the sky in defeat.

A drop of rain hits my forehead. We’re out of time. The storm is here.

“We'll have to walk now,” he pants. “My apologies. Let’s get down to the forest floor before I’m unable to carry you.”

“Jalus…” My heart pounds as I look up into that unreasonably beautiful face. “Thank you. That was incredible.”

He cups my cheek with one of his uninjured upper hands. “Your mask,” he says hoarsely. He wipes a raindrop from my cheek with his thumb. I catch my breath at the intensity in his eyes. None of my previous bodyguards have ever looked at me like that after saving my life. If they had, I might have had them fired for inappropriate advances.

But I don’t want him to stop.

“It’s fine. The air won’t be toxic for hours…” I trail off, my pulse pounding. The mask filters hid Jalus’s scent from me before. Now that it’s off, that sweet perfume goes straight to my groin, lighting up parts of me that have already been embarrassingly aroused all day.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m kissing him.

The second my mouth meets his, Jalus groans. He presses me backward until the thin back of my dress meets the rough tree trunk. More scratches. I don’t care. I hook my legs around his waist, my skirt riding up above my hips. I can’t remembereverbeing this horny before.

Jalus pulls away first, with a deep guttural growl that doesn’t sound like it should be able to come from a man who looks like a rainbow fucked a candy stick. He scoops me up in his arms and begins leaping from branch to branch, slowly lowering us to the ground level as raindrops fall faster.

“You need to take it easy,” I protest. “You’re losing a lot of blood.”

He pauses on a branch festooned with pink moss. “Grab some of that for me.”

I reach out, still held securely in his arms, and gather double handfuls of the stuff. It’s soft to the touch, fragrant with an earthy petrichor scent, and drips moisture when I ball it up and push it against his shoulder.

Almost instantly, the flow of blood begins to slacken.

“Clots the blood,” he explains, in response to my awed exclamation. “The Old Kin have used this to heal for many thousands of years. It’s how they make the medicine you used earlier.”

Dense underbrush envelops us as we reach the ground level. Jalus sets me down to wrap more moss around his injured arm. He’s trying to put distance between us, but I can’t resist moving closer. His scent draws me in like a bee to an open flower.

Shit. What am I doing? My relationships have been few and far between, and only a couple of them got further than kissing before Dad forced me to end them. “A governor’s daughter can’t afford to dally without any political benefit,” he’d said, in a tone that brooked no argument. In other words, Vanessa the actress and Bowen the bartender weren’t good enough for Lady Sinead the heiress.