Page 129 of Lana Pecherczyk

Chapter

Forty

Time sharpened into a single, horrifying choice for River. Save his sister or the boy?

In the end, he stood by and did nothing as Lark’s leg intercepted the kelpie’s snapping jaw, taking the hit while the fledgling fell into the river.

Cold sweat beaded along River’s spine. His vision narrowed to pinpricks, blood roaring through his ears. Blood. Screams.

Blake’s voice cut through his spiral. “Why aren’t the others diving after him?”

He forced his gaze down to where the fledgling thrashed against the current, fighting to return to his family. Though he’d cleared the immediate danger zone, the river’s fury claimed him inch by inch. A small hand broke the surface before disappearing again. Two crow shifters hovered anxiously overhead, attempting to snatch at the flailing limb, but it proved too slippery.

“Crows can’t swim,” River said through gritted teeth.

The rescue had begun without waiting for his signal. Tommas hadn’t trusted him to lead, and now everyone knew River couldn’t fly.

“But you can, right?” Blake grabbed his arm. “You can swim?”

“I’m a Guardian…” What kind of Guardian couldn’t soar through the skies? “And not exactly what you’d call sane.”

He’d almost drowned once if not for Cloud. They’d later learned how to swim properly at the Order, but the skill remained rare among their kind.

“That’s what makes you the best person for the job.” Her voice held steady and sure, no hint of doubt. She grabbed his collar and jerked his attention toward her, eyes searching his. “I’ve seen you fight, River. You don’t need wings to fly when you can jump.”

We jump. No wings.

River studied her face. This human knew his greatest shame, yet looked at him with unwavering trust. No judgment. No pity. Just conviction.

“We can jump,” she repeated, shaking the sense back into him.

He grinned. “Let’s fucking do this.”

“I’ll go after the boy.” She kicked off her boots. “You handle the monster.”

She backed up, her muscles tense for the leap.

“Wait—” River caught her arm. “Canyouswim?”

A cocky, sexy as fuck smirk. “Mate, I’m a sandgroper. Got me bronze medallion dodging sharks before other kids learned how to tie their bloody shoelaces.”

“I don’t know what that means, but unless it has to do with flying, you won’t clear that cliff alone.”

They looked down. The current dragged the boy closer by the second. His hovering parents were frantic, failing to pluck him from the water. Blake had about a minute’s window to reach him before the waterfall’s gravity pulled them faster than anyone could swim.

“I have to try,” she whispered, and River fell deeper in love.

Calculations clicked into place. “You jump. I’ll boost you with mana. One, two?—”

Blake launched herself into the air, taking his heart with her. He thrust his hands forward, channeling mana into a powerful gust that propelled her further, compensating for her mortal strength. His breath held as she arced through the air.

She splash-landed right where he’d hoped, front and center, before the approaching boy.

Grinning like a maniac, he ran in the opposite direction and leaped into the unknown. His damaged wings shifted out with a snap. They couldn’t give him true flight, but they could help him angle his entry.

Relief and anxiety knotted his stomach at the approaching scene. Lark was wedged beneath the storm drain’s mouth, backed up against the cliff. Her windways were nearly ripped off. Blood ran dark ribbons through the water and down her leg.

Fierce respect cut through River as Tommas floundered toward Lark in the water. Arranged match or not, the male’s determination revealed his true feelings.