Page 205 of Heat of the Everflame

Helovedme.

How could I ever have questioned it? It was as sure as the sunset, as steady as the dawn. Even now, even hurt, even dying, the strength of his heart was a force to behold. He believed in me, right down to his marrow, in a way I’d never believed in myself.

He was my rock. My cove.

My sword and my shield.

My guiding light and my calming dark.

My Prince. Mylove.

He was my everything.

And he was dying.

A sharp, desperate anger took hold of me, borne of the loss I refused to accept. I offered up my rage to my magic, and my godhood accepted with violent glee. A cry ripped from my throat, broken and vicious, as the wind bowed to my will.

Air slammed into Yrselle’s gryvern with the force of a marble wall. The beast toppled sideways, sending Yrselle airborne and screeching. Both figures disappeared in a freefall through the clouds.

The others gaped, muttered, frowned, twisted to watch for Yrselle’s return—save for Luther, whose gaze never left my face.

His fingers swept tenderly over my cheekbone. As his hand fell, I spied the glisten of my tears on his skin. My anger crumbled, and so did I.

He cradled me into his chest, and the others fell quiet as I wept in his arms.

“You are the greatest gift,” he murmured in my ear. “To everyone you meet, and to this continent and all its people.” He placed a kiss on my shoulder. “But especially to me. I only wish...”

His voice fractured, and I pulled back to look at him. He cupped my face between his rough, protective palms, his eyesgleaming. “I only wish I could be there to see all that you will become.”

He let out a long exhale, and with it seemed to go his turmoil. A calm acceptance settled over his weary features. His muscles softened, his jaw relaxed.

A better woman might have been glad to see him finally find the peace he so deserved.

I wasnota better woman.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I hissed. “I am not doing this without you. It’s us, or it’s nothing.”

His lips parted, his desire to convince me dancing on his tongue.

So I gave them something better to do. I grabbed his lapels and smothered his protests with a kiss—not a desperate prayer, but a declaration of war. An echo of his vow to the gods at my Challenging:Take him from me, and I will come for you, too.

“You should know better than to argue with a Bellator,” I panted against his lips.

His expression heated, revealing a spark of the warrior still fighting inside him. “I can’t help myself. You Bellators are stunning when you’re angry.”

“I’ll pass that along to Teller on your behalf.”

He laughed, and the sound filled my heart with the most exquisite joy. Sorrow and rage were pacing monsters at the gates, but at least for now, we held them both at bay.

I pulled more wind into Sorae’s wings to propel us forward, anxious to put distance between us and Umbros.

“Do you think she’s coming back?” Taran asked.

“I think she’s learned her lesson.” I gestured for Alixe and Zalaric to drop their illusions, then reluctantly spun in Luther’s grasp to face forward. “But if she does come back, this time I’ll be read—”

One second, I was talking.

The next, I was flying.

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