Page 142 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

“Don’t look at the ground. Just hold on to me.” He places his mouth against my ear so I can hear him. “I promise you; I will not let you fall. Trust me, Kat. I’ve got you.”

He says it so gently that part of me relaxes. A whimper still escapes me as I squeeze my eyes shut and cling to him, as though to my own life. But then I notice just how solid his arms feel around me, how warm he is against the whipping wind.

I peel one eye open. He smirks at me again.

“You’re embarrassing yourself at this point,” he says.

“It is a crime that you never told me you had wings! Or could fly!” I protest, even though Ididtechnically see his wings once before. It was dark, though!

“If it is a crime I have indeed committed, then please accept my apology.”

“I’m sorry for lying to you! Now please don’t kill me for vengeance!”

His long silver hair streams when he shakes his head and smiles. He pulls me closer so his lips touch my ear when he says, “How many times must I tell you I’m not going to kill you? Now look. See how beautiful the world is from the sky?”

I wrap my arms tighter around his neck and venture a peek below. From here, I can see the shadows of clouds playing across the fields, the spring green brilliant in its splendor. “Oh! Itisbeautiful!”

Pleasure radiates from him. His thumb on my ribs traces a soft caress. And then he nuzzles his nose into my hair. My gasp is swallowed by the wind as he says, “I’ve wanted to take you flying for so long. I wish you could feel what it is like to have wings.”

I smile. “It is probably like riding a galloping horse—except this is far higher.”

It’s only a moment later that he tells me, “It’s time to land. I will do it as gently as I can. Try not to scream, to avoid giving us away.”

The words barely register in my mind before we swoop downward and leave my stomach high in the air above us. My shriek—not entirely made of fear this time—slams against my teeth, but I manage to perform the feat of the ages and keep it contained.

As suddenly as it began, everything is still. The wind has stopped. I peek open one eye and find Rahk watching me, his head tilted to one side. He holds me tightly, as if to convince me that he was never at risk of dropping me.

“We’re done?” I squeak.

“For the moment.”

When he sets me on my feet, my legs go boneless on me, and I flop to the ground, groaning as I fling my limbs out in all directions. “That was terrifying . . . and amazing.”

Rahk shoots me a smile, but it is quick to vanish as he climbs the rise of the hill we landed on, keeping low so he isn’t spotted as he peers over the edge. I’m still flopped on the ground, breathing hard, but I shield the sun from my eyes and watch him. His shoulders tense.

I moan low and then roll over, pushing up to my knees. My feet donotwant to work, but my curiosity overpowers their weakness. I climb the rise and settle myself beside Rahk. It’s as it was when I left—people planting haphazardly, while others pluck fully ripened fruit or vegetables off of enormous plants. They give Ymer and his cudgel a wide berth.

Rahk watches the tableau before us with a hardened brow. A quiet curse escapes him.

“It’s from the magic?” I ask. “From the forest receding?”

He nods.

“Are you afraid Ymer will kill them?”

He shoots a look at me. “How do you know his name?”

“He has been screaming it at the top of his lungs,” I say quickly, kicking myself for the slip. “Unless he is referring to someone else named Ymer.”

Just then, the troll shouts: “Ymer will grind your bones into a fine dust and snort it up Ymer’s nose!”

Rahk plants one hand on his thigh. “Yes, I am afraid he will kill them.” He pushes away from the rise and gestures for me to follow him back down.

I scurry after him. “Aren’t you going to talk to them? Or to the troll?”

“No.” Rahk walks far enough away from the hill so we won’t be seen. “No one in that field is going to listen to me. We’re going to talk to the queen. At once.”

“This is very bad?”

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