Page 48 of Luca

There was a soft gasp, a caress of air on my lips. “I love you.”

Dark.

CAIR

Iflew harder than I’d ever flown before, my wings beating against the wind, the strain in my shoulders nothing compared to the ache in my chest. The dread in my heart. If only I hadn’t insisted on taking a detour, if we’d kept going straight, we’d have already reached his father’s homestead. Reachedhelp. Zadok was a mage and, as of right this moment, my only hope.

I had to get him to his father. Whatever it took.

The distance that would have taken us a day to walk was mere hours through the skies, but it wasn’t fast enough. My mate’s heartbeat grew slower and slower with every mile, his breathing a shallow wheeze. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as I passed over the rift between the mainland and the outer island. I was losing him. Icouldn’tlose him.

“Stay with me, little one,” I pleaded over the roaring winds. “We’re almost there.”

I forced my body to its limits and further, my lungs burning, my muscles crying out for a reprieve, but I paid them no heed. I scanned the lands, the fields upon fields of crops, the clusters of houses, and the towns that, in that second, meant nothing more to me than the wrong destination.

Where the fuck is it?

Defeat loomed with every passing second, my composure already frayed beyond all reason, my distress mounting. It had to be here. Ithad to be. I couldn’t acknowledge the possibility that I’d brought him all this way for nothing, that I’d wasted valuable time chasing a place that didn’t exist, a fantasy written in an old journal.No, it was real, it was where I’d find his father, and he’d be safe. I had to keep searching, even if my confidence was dwindling.

I couldn’t give up.

It wasn’t until I reached the farthest point of the island, retracing my course, that I noticed a contrasting patch of land from the corner of my eye. I’d almost missed it—a farmstead hidden by a forest of trees with rose-colored petals, secluded in its own little haven. I did a double take in case my desperation had conjured an illusion, but a trace of relief was rising in my stomach.

That was it.

Rosewood Creek.

I landed on solid ground, my ankles twinging with the force. The place seemed lived in, which was promising. There were horses in the stables, snorting and whinnying, and there were signs of a picnic in the grass by the flowerbeds, but there was no one around. The main house stood at the far end of a cobblestone path, so I marched ahead, aiming to knock on the door and praying that the one who greeted me on the other side was the Fae I sought.

Please be here.

Except, when I drew closer, there was a noise, a shuffle of claws across the dirt. My arms tightened around my bundle, hackles rising as a green-scaled wyvern pup bolted in front of me from seemingly nowhere. It snarled and bared its puny fangs, as terrifying as a kitten.

I still barely resisted the urge to snarl back.

“Leaf, stand down,” a bellowing voice called out just as its owner appeared from behind the stables. He looked to be a farmhand, from the simplicity of his attire and the tool in his hand, a creature shorter than I was, but with the bulk of a bear. Half ogre, half Fae if I had to guess, based on the tusks peeking through his bottom lip and the stunted black horns curling at the sides of his head. His strides faltered as his gaze landed on me—specifically my hair, then finally my wings.

I saw it the second he figured out who I was.

His demeanor turned hostile.

Eyes narrowed, the stranger looked down at the unconscious form in my arms for a moment before focusing on me again. The pitchfork in his hands tilted subtly in my direction. “What do you want?”

“Zadok Velarde,” I said. “Is he here?”

“What makes you think I’ll tell you that, princeling?”

I stepped forward, but the wyvern coughed a glob of purple fire at my feet in warning, rooting me in place. “I mean you no harm, I just?—”

“You royals aren’t welcome here,” he cut in, voice tinged with a growl of disdain. I understood his distrust, but didn’t have the patience to sympathize.

“This is my mate,” I carried on, hoping to appeal to even a sliver of his agreeable nature. “He’s dying, and I know Zadok can save him.Please.”

There was a glimmer of uncertainty in his expression, as if he wanted to send us—me—away, but his conscience wouldn’t let him. However, I couldn’t afford the luxury of hesitation. My rationality had vanished alongside my pride, it seemed. I was prepared to risk everything, to truly earn this creature’s ire by tearing up every brick until I found the mage who could help my mate. The wyvern was hardly a defense, but just as my wings ruffled and I shifted on my feet, priming myself to lunge, the beast trilled, facing away.

The front door of the farmhouse crept open.

Another male stepped outside.

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