Page 128 of The Demon Tide

How can I tell Yvan about Lukas?I agonize.How will I ever let Yvan go?

But I have to let him go.

Because even though I love him with a passion that’s undimmed, I promised myself to Lukas. Igavemyself to Lukas. And he gave himself to me. Fully.

And I love Lukas too.

“They glamoured you,” Yvan marvels, caressing the side of my cheek with a gentleness that guts me, misery rising as our fire magic twines around us with an unquenchable longing that wrenches my heart anew.

I love you, Yvan. I love you so much.

But I’m bound to another.

“There are wanted postings with my face on them all over the city,” I choke out, wanting to split myself in two. “And the Vu Trin aren’t the only ones hunting me. Vogel is, as well. He knows I’m here. And he knows I’m glamoured.”

Yvan’s aura gives a violent flare. “We can’t stay here.” The troubled whirl of his fire mirrors my own, an expression of immense frustration tightening his jaw. “The Vu Trin will be searching for both of us.” His fire stokes hotter, his eyes twin flames that quicken my pulse. “I won’t let them take you, Elloren.”

“We can’t wage war on our allies,” I counter. “I’ve a room on a varg-rune-warded air ship. In the center of the city’s Sixth Tier. The Vu Trin...they knew I was there, but it’s possible they won’t check again right away.”

“It might be the only place I can go without being tracked,” he says. “Theywilltrack me down, Elloren. Quite soon.”

“Do you think we can get there without being spotted?”

His glowing eyes narrow. “I do,” he says. He pulls in a deep breath, his horns contracting, as his ears round and the luminous Noi runes and varg runes marking his chest fade under his partial glamour. “Hold on to me,” he offers, and I nod, moving toward him.

He pulls me tight against his warm chest, a thrill coursing through my body as I’m lifted effortlessly, wrapped around his heated form once more. Carefully scanning the dark river and wall of mountains beyond, Yvan walks us to the cliff’s edge. Then he throws out his wings...

And leaps off the cliff.

A queasy rush sweeps through me as we free-fall before his powerful wings beat down, lifting us into a controlled soar southward. He accelerates, keeping close to the Voloi Mountain Range’s western face, the world quickly reduced to a speeding blur.

Flying under sparse cloud cover, we eventually veer up toward a broad, blue-lit rune ship then slow under its base, wrapped around each other inside the rune-encircled cavity.

The shimmering tiers of Voloi appear through gaps in the rotating runes and apprehension mounts, the city likely swarming with Vu Trin searching for us both.

The ship veers toward the Sixth Tier, and I spot Mora’s rune ship, tiny from this distance, its line of green-glowing Smaragdalfar runes unmistakable.

“There,” I say, pointing.

Yvan takes off like a shot and the world blurs once more, everything a streaking tunnel around us. Our surroundings snap back into focus as Yvan lands us in the shadows of the ship’s riverside walkway. My feet touch down on lacquered wood, the will to survive engulfing my fright.

We slip inside my small bedroom and I shut and lock the door behind us, douse Mora’s rune lamp, and hastily draw the curtains as Yvan glamours his wings. I turn and meet his gaze in the faint emerald light emanating from the varg runes marking the walls.

A shiver rushes through me as I hold his heated gaze for a suspended moment, his powerful fire aura coursing off his body in an increasingly fervent caress. He’s distinctly more muscular than he was before. The hard planes of his face starker.

Less a student, more a warrior.

Like me.

Both of us irretrievably altered by what we’ve been through.

A rough pain seizes hold of my heart, raw and biting, as I remember who, along with Yvan, taught me to be strong and fight back.

Lukas.

I have to tell him about Lukas.

Emotion blazing in his eyes, Yvan closes the distance between us. He reaches up to caress the side of my face like I’m some precious thing. “I wanted you every day and every night,” he says, voice rough with yearning.

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