Page 63 of Heir of the Beast

No.

She is fine.

My body is shaking. My mind is malfunctioning. Of course, she is fine. She’s a freaking agent! I’m sure she had excellent training.

“Angel!”

Apollo apparently has been screaming my name for some time. I glance at him to see him on his knees, face pale.

“Focus! You must get off the cliff now. I can’t come to get you because I’m too heavy! You have to come now before another lightning strike!” He motions with his hands like I am dumb.

Apollo looks petrified.

Through the haze of my mind, I’m touched. I look at his rain-soaked face and see genuine fear for me, and I would almost say he is two seconds from a full-fledged freakout.

I will have to reflect on this later, I decide, as I look at the jagged cliff I am laying on.

“Oh shit.”

If I fall, I can scream my lifeline, but Apollo does not know that. Hence the absolute terror etched into his features.

“Crawl!”

I nod and slowly start to crawl, and I can feel the cliff cracking. I look up, heart pounding. “It’s cracking!”

~Oh no.~

Apollo’s chest is heaving, and it looks like he enters a state of extreme focus. He stands and yells to his men, and I watch as they bring him a lime green rope.

Apollo works so fast it almost takes my mind off the fact I will be airborne in a matter of seconds. He takes out his arrow, which is tied to the rope, and aims into the forest and shoots.

He is talking to his men as he wraps a belt around his trim hips and fastens the rope to it.

I feel another crack and can now see it on the surface. “Apollo!” I scream.

I look up to see Apollo sprinting at me right as the edge gives under my weight. I try to move, but it’s no use. The cliff is just too fragile.

I scream, grabbing at nothing but air, seeing the mountain edge slowly becoming out of my reach.

Seconds feel like minutes as I fall, looking up for any signs of hope.

I then see Apollo swan dive off the cliff after me, and in a matter of moments, I feel his body collide with mine. I feel his arms around me, and I grab onto him desperately, my legs wrapping around him.

The rope has a little give to it, but nothing to lessen the pain Apollo must feel when the rope goes rigid, stopping us from our descent. We jerk to a standstill rather violently.

I hear him yell and groan in pain as he tries to get a better grip on me.

“Wrap your legs around my waist!”

I am hanging on him as best as I can in my billion-pound skirts.

“Son of a bitch! No wonder the cliff broke!” Apollo hisses as he grabs the rope with both hands, steadying us upright. His arm muscles are bulging, and the veins in his neck are protruding with his effort.

“Take off the fucking skirts!”

“How?!”

“My knife,” he gets out. “Belt buckle.”

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