Page 184 of Lana Pecherczyk

River had wings.

Manabee lanterns, torches, and campfires twinkled below like stars. Caravans soared past. Faces looked up. Some pointed. A man bellowed something about being insane to fly in a storm like this.

“Oh my god, we’re flying,” she blurted, sputtering. “River. Your feathers are back.”

“Yeah, they are.” Deep and soft. Joy pumped from his heart to hers. His lips fluttered against her ear, making her shiver. “As soon as I knew, the first thing I thought of was finding you.”

“What about?—”

He cleared his throat. “I apologized to him.”

“You what?”

“You were right.” He shrugged. “I needed to acknowledge the break before it could mend, and I … I broke it first.”

Blake blinked rapidly, fighting the prick of tears. River had made the first step toward reconciliation. He’d listened to her.

And now he had wings. They filled the dark sky around them. Magnificent, black feathers tipped with shimmering blue flapped above him, shedding raindrops like diamonds. She instinctively moved her fingers from his neck to brush the lush ridge beating slowly, then gasped at the contrasting sensations—soft yet hard, downy feathers mixed with strong muscles, tendons flexing.

A whimper caught in River’s throat. He nuzzled into her neck, hiding his vulnerability, but she felt his need and desire as if they were her own. With his head lowered, his wings became her whole world.

“They’re perfect. How?”

“You fixed me.” He pulled her tighter against his chest. Inhaled against her skin. Released a husky growl. “Must havebeen all that”—his voice deepened—“hands on therapy in the trove.”

“I didn’t do anything!” This wasn’t her magic. She knew it deep in her soul. “That wasn’t…”

“Doesn’t matter how. Point is, I swooped you.” He growled against her skin, “Crow tradition, Sparkles. I just claimed you in front of the whole damn Great Murder.” He nipped her jaw, making her gasp. “You’re supposed to be fighting me now. Trying to escape.” Another low, male rumbling sound. “Show everyone your strength like you did before.” He pulled back, eyes glittering with challenge and arousal. “So I can overpower you and claim you good and proper.”

Hot, liquid need pooled between her thighs. It scorched through her blood, tearing up her veins, shooting fire into her already feverish body. But it also reminded her of why she’d been angry in the first place. He’d had the nerve to preen in front of other females, then he’d ignored Blake’s safe word, and now he was making her walking away about him.

“No!” she shouted.

He merely looked enamored. She exploded again—a shriek, a scream, a chaotic mix of rage and a foolish lust so insanely feral and furious that she felt inhuman. How could she want him and not want him? Her nails carved welts into the back of his neck, but the pain only intensified the sense of his arousal through their bond.

“Fuck yes, Blake.” He tightened his grip. “Give it to me.”

“Don’t you fuck yes Blake me!”

“That’s the whole poi?—”

She slapped him across the face. Hard. His hold on her slipped, but she wasn’t afraid. Falling didn’t even enter her mind. This was abouther. About her need to be heard, her need to be his one, to come first. Maybe it was irrational, maybe it was validated, maybe it didn’t matter.

“Put me. The fuck. Down!”

His flight path shifted abruptly. He banked hard and dove, startling a squeak from her lips as she latched onto his neck again. Wind whipped her face. Rain pelted like bullets. She had no choice but to shelter her face against the solid expanse of his bare chest.

God, he smelled divine.

No, he doesn’t.

Another change in momentum lifted her gaze. Coming in fast was the ancient dam wall, a space between two long, jutting concrete platforms. Water spilled from the top slab like a shimmering curtain, collecting in a reservoir formed by the upheaval of invasive roots. Bioluminescent plants and moss deep in the alcove’s wall backlit two figures nestled in the pool, lost in their own world.

River didn’t hesitate. He descended fast, bursting through the waterfall, landing with a jarring thud on the concrete a few feet away from them.

“Out!” he bellowed, wings snapping wide with a loud crack, displacing rain. “This perch is taken.”

Blake barely registered warm air, surprised faces, and bodies scrambling away. She was too busy doing the same thing. She wriggled out of River’s arms and fell onto the platform. The impact knocked her teeth, but her fury overshadowed the pain.