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Rhaego stared down the cliffside, cold night air creeping under his high charcoal collar.

“Are you sure about this?” Aurora asked from behind him.

His heart swelled. She’d been nervous all evening, ever since they’d returned from town. But where her nerves called for her to stall him, tease him with soft kisses until his horns throbbed and all notion of what he was supposed to be doing faded, his nerves shouted for him to go.

Aurora had succeeded in convincing his mother to join them. His clever little witch and her magic. As much as it thrilled him to think he could escape with everything he’d ever wanted, it also made him impatient.

This task loomed before him, making him itch. The sooner he completed it, the sooner he could deliver his mother and the humans to Maxu, find a quiet place to spend his heat, and return to Aurora—a new male, ready to win her heart knowing he’d earned it.

“I’d rather not leave you,” he admitted, flexing his fingers as he turned to face her. In truth he’d been ready to climb for a while now but couldn’t bring himself to take that first step.

Her worried gaze was glued to the rope he’d secured in place. “You’re positive we can’t ask Phirdo for more rope? We could make up some reason for why we need it.”

“Too risky.” He shook his head. “I have enough on hand to get me halfway down, and I can easily climb the rest,” he lied. It wouldn’t be easy. It would be cold and slippery the closer to the water he got, but she didn’t need to know that.

He closed the distance between them though alarms flared in his mind. The heat was a week away now, far too close for him to think he could touch her without spiking his fever. With a crooked finger under her chin, he lifted her face to his and pressed a soft, untrained kiss to her lips.

Aurora’s gaze was hooded when he drew back, so he felt he hadn’t done too poor a job. He was eager to perfect the art at a later time when the heat didn’t dominate his hormones. “Will you be alright on your own?”

Her lids fluttered. “Me? Oh yeah. Don’t worry about me. I’ll keep myself busy.” Her smile was tight, revealing her bluff.

Even that lie made his chest ache. He had the distinct impression that if he asked her to stay, to live here with him and abandon this mission, she would.

Rhaego stepped away. He didn’t yet deserve that kind of devotion.

“Two days. Three nights,” he reminded, squatting to take hold of the rope. “I’ll be back for you in three nights. Be ready. And don’t scratch,” he commanded as her fingers moved to itch her other hand.

She dropped them immediately, nodding. “Okay. Okay. Be safe.”

“I will.” He began making his way over the cliff, and she inched closer, dropping to her hands and knees to watch him.

“Please be safe,” she repeated, head popping over the side of the cliff so she could keep him in sight as he descended.

Rhaego grinned. “I will,” he repeated. “Inside with you, female. This will be for naught if you fall off this mountain.”

His insides still sang with joy even after she’d disappeared from view. He could do this. He would do this.

He reached the end of his rope in no time at all. Aurora was so heavy on his mind, he barely felt the bite of sharp stone on his fingers as he climbed, failed to notice the long gash on his arm earned after slipping and catching himself on a jagged edge.

When he finally dropped into the frigid water of the fjord, all he had to do to lubricate his muscles was think of Aurora’s soft mouth and sweet cunt and his fever would roar to life, warming him to his marrow and giving him the strength he needed to keep swimming.

***

The last two days had been the longest Aurora could remember. She hadn’t slept a wink the first night. Despite knowing Rhaego wouldn’t approve, she’d grabbed a blanket and camped outside by the cliff, peeking over the edge every now and again to see if she could spot him. She never could. His gray outfit assured that he blended in with the mountain.

But she’d still waited, listening for the sound of a distant yell or splashing water, one hand laid across the rope. Every time it had twitched and tightened, her heart had given a little jump. But then it had gone slack and she’d nearly vomited despite knowing logically that that was meant to happen.

She’d pulled the rope up so no passing carriages would see it, like he’d asked, but she couldn’t bring herself to go back inside. Her eyes had remained glued to the darkness below until the sun had risen.

Goddess, she hoped he was okay. There were no signs of large red men sprawled anywhere on the rocks below. No blood. No sign anything was wrong. But she still worried.

The den felt empty with him gone and larger without his breadth and width to fill every inch of space. By the end of her first day alone she’d packed all her things, placed everything they’d decided to bring by the door, then slumped into a chair in the sitting room, uncertain what else to do with herself.

On the second night, she’d known she needed to sleep. If everything had gone according to plan, they’d be escaping tomorrow. There wouldn’t be any time for sleep then. Three days in a row without sleep would only make her a liability. So only feeling slightly guilty, she’d grabbed a deralja pipe, slipped into Rhaego’s empty room, and curled beneath his musk-scented covers.

His mark had faded, and she missed it dearly. The smoke and his delicious spicy scent had filled her lungs, allowing her to sleep, though she’d woken early the next morning.

Aurora had paced all day, jumpy and anxious. Now each second felt like it took an hour to pass, the setting sun blistering each time it touched her impatient skin. She focused on walking quickly enough that the path in the rug wouldn’t have the time to fix itself before she came back, but it always did, and before long she’d made herself ill from the rushed back and forth.

“This is ridiculous,” she cried, throwing her hands in the air. She fled to the front of the house and plopped down near the dock, glaring at the glorious sunset. “Set,” she hissed.

Worst-case scenarios played through her mind. The king and a horde of guards driving some kind of blaring police carriage up to the dock. Taking her away and locking her up. Telling her Rhaego had been arrested, or worse…

Despite how upset it made her, the thoughts of doom and gloom helped to pass the time, so she allowed them to come. Tears streamed as some of the more vicious outcomes shredded her heart. The moons rose—first the larger, then the smaller, higher and higher in the sky. Aurora stared at them.

Two waxing crescents. A waxing crescent was a perfect time for manifestation spell work. Would two work doubly well?

She closed her eyes and deepened her breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

She pictured Rhaego at the helm of their carriage, looking as happy and confident as a sea captain coming home from war. Success radiated off him, his proud shoulders set back and his smile wide and full of fang.

Over and over she pictured this scene, trying to imagine his journey second by second, opening her eyes at the estimated moment he should arrive, hoping to find their carriage gliding toward her just like it had in her mind.

But it didn’t.

Rhaego never appeared.