Page 58 of Scorched By Fate

The memory of his lips, his touch—of the way we’d fit together—made my heart kick against my ribs. Sparks of what we’d shared still crackled where the tips of his claws brushed my side. I wanted nothing more than to lie back down with him and stay lost in the pleasure.

But then the weight returned: what Ishouldhave been doing. The vyrathis. The healers. The hollow-eyed, rasping bodies inthe healing caverns. I’d lost hours with Vyne. Hours we could have been flying back. And now, with the precious container of vyrathis tucked in my pack, every second screamed at me. Time we didn’t have.

It didn't matter that both Vyne and Khorlar had made it clear we couldn't fly at night, that they needed to rest their wings.

We could rest when the healers weren't dying.

The thought made my chest tighten, and I shifted. His arms locked firmer, claws coiling protectively under the curve of my back. “Don’t wriggle,” he growled, voice low against the wind. “Unless you want to test how good I am at catching humans mid-fall.”

I kept my tone dry. “I wasn’t planning on taking any dives. How much farther?”

Vyne’s eyes narrowed. “Not long,” he said. “We’ll be able to enter through one of the sky shafts from this approach. No need to climb through the tunnels.”

Ahead, Khorlar flew steadily, massive gray wings militaristic in their precision. They didn’t falter, even with the human shape clinging weakly to his broad chest.

Reika.

From my position, she looked impossibly small, a curled shadow cradled against Khorlar’s scaled arms. The pale streak of her skin was faint against the muted gray of his leathers. But even from a distance, I could see the shaking. Her wrists trembled, and her head slumped awkwardly. Exhaustion had her in a chokehold, and the rough lines of fever were unmistakable.

I should have done something for it before we left. The red streaks webbed around the cuts on her arms and shoulders—delicate but dangerous threads that coiled inward. Infection. Her breathing, too shallow, too labored, told me enough.

It wasn't the sickness plaguing the healers. This was simpler, caused by exhaustion and dirt. But it could be just as deadly.

One crisis at a time, Selene. Deal with the healers first.

A shift in the air cut through my thoughts. The wind grew sharper, warmer, as we descended through the narrow sky shaft that would take us into Scalvaris.

Vyne angled his wings, leaning into the wind as he adjusted our trajectory. My stomach flipped as the updrafts pushed against us. Every muscle in Vyne’s body tensed as we veered closer.

“It’s safe?” The edge in my voice was unavoidable.

Vyne’s lips twitched. “I’d hardly take you down here if it wasn’t.”

I hated that I liked the quiet authority in his voice.

Khorlar shifted positions, descending faster, his broad gray wings slicing through the heat. He landed heavily just ahead of us, raised claws creating a protective barrier as Reika shifted weakly.

A sick, horrible sound rasped from her throat.

The second I was on solid ground, I rushed to Khorlar.

“Get her straight to the healing caverns,” I snapped. Duty cleared my mind. “She’s burning up.”

Khorlar’s gaze was steady. He said nothing, simply turning toward the nearest corridor and carrying her away.

Vyne touched my arm. “Selene, I?—”

“No,” I couldn't do this now, whatever it was. “The vyrathis first.” Vyne and I … there was something there. Something real. I wanted it so bad it hurt. But I could deal with the delay. Delaying our mission meant death for the healers.

Emotions had to come later.

The passageways narrowed, the unbroken stone brushing against my arms as I ducked low into the heat of the city. Butmy pace didn’t falter, even as the familiar glow of heat crystals guided me. My mind stayed locked on the bodies waiting below.

Waiting. Fighting. Clinging to the edge of existence.

I couldn’t fail them.

When we reached the healing caverns, it felt like death. The thick, acrid scent of sickness pooled, mingling with the tang of sweaty bodies and burnt herbs. It was worse than I remembered.

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