Page 113 of Crown of the Fae King

“She shouldn’t have lost it except in death.”

“Exactly.”

“And if she did…it would have broken the contract, right?”

He shook his head, roared at me in frustration, then ripped the shirt off his head again before running around the corner. A flash of light. His massive, fleeing shadow was replaced immediately by a flurry of hailstones that bounced and hissed on the stone floor. Over the racket, I might have imagined the whoosh, whoosh of powerful wings.

By the time I pried myself out from beneath the fur and ran to the entrance, the warmth that had been building in the room was already gone. I got only a glimpse of what lay outside before I slammed the thick door shut, but it was enough.

Clouds. Angry ones. Hail and mist…and the jutting, icy mountaintops a few hundred yards away.

This is where I’m going to die.

46

Cross My Heart

The storm raged outside the door. There were no windows, so I had no warning each time thunder pounded the stone walls, rattled my bones and teeth, and promised the next one might bring it all down.

If Griffon was flying around in this, lightning would get him for sure. If he were huddled, shirtless, in some cave just to keep his distance from me, he’d freeze to death.

I had a stack of logs to keep the fire going through the storm, as long as it didn’t last for more than a day. From the chair, I retrieved the sweatshirt he’d cast aside and made a nest on the thick rug before the fire with some pillows from the bed and that big fur. I kept a safe distance from the open flames. Though I was tempted to fill the grate with wood, I knew if I kept the fire small, the logs would last.

Survivaldidn’t seem like such a curse word anymore.

I inhaled the smell of the shirt. Clean, delicious, Griffon. “Come on, my love. Don’t be dead.”

I thought about the team. Wickham would be throwing fits. Even if Brian or Flann or Wickham’s sisters could perform telepathy across the Irish Sea, I’d never be able to explain where I was. And I had no phone on me to trace. I’d left the thing in my hotel room, needing a break from the obsession over a certain professor who wasn’t allowed to call me.

As for the team, maybe they’d worry and fret for a day, but they had a job to do. They’d have to move on quickly and forget about me.

I laughed out loud just to hear my voice. “I’ve been here, what, an hour? How pathetic.”

I started to imagine what might happen if Griffon ever came back for me. Just the mention of someone breaking The Covenant set him off. When he learned his brother’s car had been found—without his brother—he’d be more dangerous still. And when he learned who deserved his rage…I’d be lucky if the worst thing he did was drop me from the skies.

I didn’t haveto look outside to know the sun was down. Cold air hovered ever closer to my personal-sized dome of warmth. I refused to guess at the temperature.

Colder was all I would admit.

The thunder had lost its anger. If I slept, I could ignore my bones and teeth shaking for a little while. I’d need to sleep lightly so I could keep the fire fed, so I told myself I could nap for half an hour. And when that psychological alarm clock worked on the first try, I tried it again.

And didn’t wake up.

I dreamedof putting logs on the fire. I wanted to sit up and do it, but I knew I would freeze. And if I froze, I’d have to pee. And if I peed, I’d freeze. Better to wait a while longer…

The popand crackle of the fire assaulted my ears, and I woke whether I wanted to or not. The storm had stopped. That’s why I could hear the fire so clearly. And my nose wasn’t so cold anymore.

I opened one eye and stared at the two large logs eating up most of the space in the fireplace, their edges burning cheerfully. Had I added them in my sleep?

I pushed the fur aside and wasn’t instantly attacked by arctic air. I sat up and looked around. The light had changed. Sunlight came from deeper in the cavern.

I freaking survived the night!

Still sore from the park, I stretched as I got to my feet, then froze. Griffon lay prone on the bed, his bare feet over the edge like he’d collapsed onto it, his back as flawless as the night before. No lightning burns. No wings.

Had I imagined the wings?

Ah, no. Still on a mountaintop. And a helicopter sure as hell hadn’t brought me here.

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