Page 139 of Threadbound

Bran took one of Jamie’s mittened hands with his own—also wearing one of Jamie’s momma’s mittens. He didn’t say anything, just squeezed Jamie’s hand. It eased the guilt a little, telling him that Bran wasn’t upset, wasn’t angry. At least not with or at Jamie.

They continued down the hillside, carefully picking their way across rocks and around the telltale shine of ice against the snow. Even though it was cold and Jamie’s nose, fingers, and toes were pushing numbness, the hike itself had his body warm, almost uncomfortably so, and sweat was gathering in the small of his back and under his hood.

They hiked the rest of the way down the slope, boots crunching through snow and the thin sheen of ice that had formed over the places where wind had pushed the snow aside. Ahead, Rob and Trixie were talking in low voices, whether about the weather or what they were doing or the views, Jamie couldn’t tell. Part of him worried that they were put out with him—but it wasn’t like he was going to offer to pack up and go home.

The wind was sharper at the loch’s edge, almost biting, and Trixie was huddled in her coat, although Rob seemed less effected than either Trixie or Jamie. Maybe because he was from Glasgow. Bran held himself stiffly, although Jamie couldn’t tell if it was from cold or worry.

At the edge of the loch, Bran drew in a deep breath, then let it out, the warm air fogging in the cold. And then he took off his mittens—Jamie’s extra pair—and coat, then held them out. Jamie took them without thinking, watching as Bran carefully walked out to the edge of the ice, then knelt, ignoring the fact that the ice immediately soaked his knee.

Jamie shivered sympathetically when Bran pushed his sleeve up and then plunged his arm up to the elbow into the icy water.

All three of them gasped and shouted when suddenly Bran was pulled forcefully under the slushy surface.

“Bran!” Jamie’s heart rate skyrocketed, and he rushed forward, Trixie and Rob right behind him. Rob—who had been a life guard in school—threw himself down on the ice and reached out, as though he was going to reach in to try to find some part of Bran to pull out of the frigid water.

Even through his panic and fear, Jamie recognized that was probably a terrible idea.

“Rob, don’t!”

“Jamie, Bran is—” Trixie sounded shocked and horrified.

“Bran waspulled in,” Jamie retorted, terror making his words short and sharp. “Whatever pulled him in will probably pull Rob in, too.” He wanted Rob to rescue Bran, but he knew, deep in his bones, that reaching into the water would absolutely guarantee Rob’s death. He had to trust Bran—trust that the fae both knew what he was doing and could handle himself… in freezing cold water.

“Jamie, he’s going todiein there,” Rob argued, his grey eyes wide.

Jamie didn’t know what to say. Because he was absolutely terrified that Bran was going to die—but he had to believe that Bran was going to be able to get himself out of this. If he didn’t believe that… then he’d just watched his lover die.

“We have to trust him,” is what he said out loud, although even in his own ears, it sounded asinine. Ignorant and dangerously rash.

“Does he also have bloody gills?” Rob asked angrily.

“I—don’t think so?” Jamie hadn’t actually seen Bran’s last form—maybe a boobrie, whatever that was, had gills? He had no idea.

“Bloody hell,” Rob muttered, returning his intense stare to the water’s surface. “Jamie, I’m serious, thirty more seconds,and he isn’t coming back up. You want me to leave him down there to drown? Die of hypothermia?”

Jamie felt tears stinging the back of his eyes, and he shook his head. “I don’t want you to die, either,” he half-whispered.

And then something very big and very not human-shaped exploded out of the deeper water, and all of them scrambled back from the edge of the ice, Rob with a very loud “What the bloody fucking hell!?”

Jamieknewthat the thing that had just dragged its very violent way out of the water was Bran—not whatever an ashray was. The ashray was the thin, almost wisp-like figure dangling from massive claws. One of the two of them was shrieking, a high-pitched keen that made Jamie’s ears feel like they were bleeding. Rob and Trixie both covered their ears, but Jamie’s hands were busy holding Bran’s coat and mittens, so he only managed to cover one.

The shriek came again, and Jamie swore he could feel his ear bleeding.

This time it was drowned out by a different kind of inhuman cry, raptor-like and harsh and resonant. And then the figure plunged down, splashing into the icy water, slipping beneath the surface of the loch.

Above them, the massive bird-like beast flapped giant wings, freezing water droplets beating off the black feathers. Its body was easily the size of a horse, impossible wings keeping it aloft, its gnarled legs and massive talons thicker than a bird’s, built more like a lion’s haunches, although without any fur. But it was the head that made it clear this wasn’t just some freakishly large—supernaturally large—raven or vulture. Its head was feathered, but its beak—if you could even call it that—was leathery and filled with massive overlapping teeth that had more business in the mouth of an alligator or dinosaur than they did anything shaped like a bird.

From a strange, almost abstracted place, Jamie thought to himself that now he knew what a boobrie was.

WhatBranwas.

It should have terrified him, this massive monster with claws and teeth clearly designed for rending flesh and tearing out life. But even staring up at the raw predatory power above him, Jamie couldn’t be afraid of Bran.

The same clearly could not be said of Trixie and Rob, both of whom looked up with absolute terror on their faces.

Then something moved at the edge of the water, and a thin, pale arm, bluish in hue and almost translucent, emerged from the water and reached out, dropping a handful of golden coins on the ice. Ashray gold.

Above, Bran—because it was Bran, there was no question in Jamie’s mind—preened at his own breast-feathers, pulling one loose and dropping it, letting it fall to the surface of the loch. It stayed there for a few seconds, slight ripples creating faint concentric circles around it until a hand—thin and translucent—broke the surface to pull the feather under.

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