Page 2 of Inflamed By an Incubus

Her smile wobbled.

Heat blazed across his side, the firelight chasing over the sculpted planes of her face as she gazed down at him, as tears lined her eyelashes.

Fenix tipped his head back and screamed as the scent of burning flesh reached his nostrils, choking him. Every inch of him was on fire, on the verge of turning to ashes.

Darkness rolled up on him and he fought it, desperately clung to consciousness, aware that if he passed out then no one would be here to stop Aderyn from doing something foolish.

But he wasn’t strong enough to hold back the rising inky tide and it swallowed him.

The sound of water dripping in the distance roused him from the dark embrace of sleep.

Fenix groaned as awareness slowly returned, his senses gradually coming back online. His side throbbed at the same tempo as his heartbeat and he swallowed thickly, his mouth as dry as ash.

“Aderyn?” he husked, willing her to respond as the haze of pain and sleep cleared from his mind and he remembered what had happened.

Only the plip-plip-plip of water answered him.

He gritted his teeth and rolled to his right, away from his injured side, and opened his eyes. Everything was blurred. He rubbed at his eyes, clearing the salty grit from them, and tried again. A cave greeted him. Dark. Damp.

Empty, save for him.

“Aderyn?” He tried again, louder this time, hoping she was somewhere nearby and would hear him.

Only he couldn’t sense her.

His connection to her was weak, like a fragile strand of spider silk that could snap with the gentlest of touches.

Fenix got onto his knees, grimacing as small chips of basalt bit into them through his black leathers and jabbed his palms. He scanned the cavern again, aching to see Aderyn, to know that she was safe and hadn’t done something reckless.

Even when he knew in his heart that she had.

She had gone after the mage, still believed he knew the way to open the gateway, that he was the key to succeeding where she had failed so many times before.

He needed to get to her.

He needed to stop her before it was too late.

He pressed his hand to his left side, the hole in his black jerkin so large that he could fit his entire hand in it. The skin beneath his palm was puckered and sore, tender to the touch, but it was healed.

She had saved him.

Now he would save her.

His beautiful mate was headstrong and obsessed, driven by her desire to reunite with her people, and while he couldn’t understand that, he could understand the need that blazed within him—a desire to reunite with her.

He pushed onto his feet, collapsed back to his knees as his legs gave out, and then tried again, refusing to give up. He was healed and that meant he was moving, going after his female. There was no way in this world or the mortal one that he was going to let her face the mage alone.

Drystan would kill her.

Or worse.

He would use her as a source of power, slowly destroying her by stealing her blood to fuel his magic and his immortality.

Fenix couldn’t let that happen.

He made it onto his feet and turned slowly, not trusting his legs. His senses reached out around him but he still felt nothing—no trace of Aderyn—so he focused on himself instead, summoning his strength.

And teleported.

---