Page 48 of Tempest Rising

“Tess!” I shouted, my voice raw, but the distance between us grew as gravity pulled her further down. She struggled to grab hold of anything, her fingers clawing at the earth for purchase, but the slope was relentless. Her momentum only stopped when her body collided hard with a tree, the impact wrenching a pained cry from her lips.

I didn’t hesitate. My wings snapped open, catching the air as I leapt off the edge of the trail. The world narrowed to a singular focus: getting to her. The rush of wind against my face was nothing compared to the pounding in my chest as I angled my descent.

Reaching her felt like an eternity. When I landed, my boots crunching against the loose debris, she was slumped against the tree, clutching her side. Her breathing was shallow, her face pale, streaked with dirt and pain. Blood seeped from a gash on her temple and a jagged tear along her forearm.

“Tess,” I said, my voice low and urgent as I crouched beside her. Her golden-brown eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, before recognition lit them. Relief washed over her face even as she winced.

“Mason,” she rasped, her voice barely audible. “I’m—I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay,” I said, my tone firmer than I intended, though the sight of her hurt twisted something deep inside me. Carefully, I slipped my arms beneath her, cradling her against my chest. She hissed through her teeth as I moved her, and guilt stabbed me, but I knew we couldn’t stay here.

“I’ve got you, Tess,” I murmured, my wings spreading wide. With a powerful beat, I lifted us both into the air, the ground falling away as I carried her back toward the trail. Her body was warm and fragile against mine, and I fought the surge of protectiveness threatening to overwhelm me.

When we landed, the others rushed toward us, their expressions a mix of alarm and urgency. But I didn’t let go of her. Not yet. Not until I was sure she was safe.

“Let me see,” I growled, my hands trembling as I reached for her. I hesitated for a split second, afraid of hurting her further, but the sight of the blood seeping through her shirt pushed me forward. Gently, I pressed my palm against her uninjured shoulder to steady her, the other hand carefully examining the wound.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Tess said, though her voice wavered. She tried to sit up, but I stopped her with a low, protective growl that made her eyes widen.

“Stay still,” I ordered, more gruffly than I intended. My fingers worked quickly, carefully tearing the fabric around the wound to get a better look. The cuts were deep, but not life-threatening. Still, the sight of her blood on my hands made something in me snap.

Ours.The gargoyle’s voice rumbled in the back of my mind, as insistent as ever.Ours. Protect her. Claim her. Now.

“Tess,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. Her name felt different on my tongue—heavier, more desperate. My gaze locked on hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Her lips parted slightly, a soft breath escaping as her golden-brown eyes searched mine.

I wanted to kiss her. Gods, I wanted it more than anything. The gargoyle in me roared for it, demanded it. But this wasn’t the time. Not like this—not when she was hurt and vulnerable.

Not yet.

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to pull back. The tension in my chest was almost unbearable, a physical ache that spread through my entire body. The gargoyle growled in protest, but I pushed it down, focusing on Tess instead.

“I’ll carry her,” I said, my voice rough as I turned to Kane and Raze, who stood nearby. “We need to get moving. Now.”

Kane nodded sharply, already packing up the supplies with his usual efficiency. Raze, for once, didn’t have a smirk or a joke. His sharp eyes flicked to Tess, then back to me, and he gave a quick, understanding nod.

Tess tried to protest as I slid my arms beneath her, lifting her as gently as I could. “Mason, I can—”

“Stop,” I growled, my voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re not walking. End of discussion.”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line, but she didn’t argue further. Instead, she rested her head against my chest, her soft breaths brushing against my skin. The warmth of her body, even through the chill of the morning, seeped into me, grounding me in a way I hadn’t expected.

The forest path blurred as we moved. I was hyper-aware of every sound, every rustle of leaves, every shift of the wind. My senses were on high alert, the gargoyle in me ready to strike at the first sign of another threat. But more than that, I was hyper-aware of Tess. The way her fingers curled lightly against my chest. Thesoft, citrusy scent of her hair. The steady rise and fall of her breathing as she finally began to relax in my arms.

Mine.

It wasn’t just the gargoyle speaking anymore. It was me—every part of me, human and gargoyle alike. Tess wasn’t just someone I wanted to protect. She was someone I wanted to hold, to keep safe, to share every part of my life with.

But I knew better than to act on those feelings. Not yet.

For now, I’d settle for this—for keeping her close, for making sure she was safe. That was all that mattered. The rest could wait. It had to.

Chapter 20

Tess

"Sit," Mason said, his voice gruff but steady. We were stopped in a small clearing a mile or so away from where the attack took place.

"I'm fine," I argued, even as my knees decided to betray me with a slight wobble. "It's just a scratch."

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