Page 191 of Primal Bonds

The tunnel narrowed even more. Fane halted, his cheek against the rock, panting raggedly.

A high-pitched, excited chittering came from far away. The goblins, still distant but moving in their direction. Goose pimples popped up all over her body.

“Move,” she said in a hard voice and nudged him with her hip.

He continued to inch sideways, her following—until his shoulders got caught.

She muttered a curse. “You sure you’ve done this before?”

“Yeah…my secret…place.”

“Well, then, you’ve gained some weight.”

That earned her a weak chuckle.

“Okay. When I give the word, blow out your breath—and say a fucking prayer.” She managed to turn enough to shove his nearest shoulder with both hands. “Now.”

He exhaled with a grunt. There was a tearing sound as his shirt ripped, and then he was through. She slipped after him.

Shortly after that, the passage widened, and suddenly, they were in a small underground cavern. A crack in the ceiling let in enough light to show walls of rough gray basalt. At the opposite end, a turquoise-blue thermal pool steamed gently.

Fane fell to his hands and knees, chest heaving. Marjani almost knelt down next to him, just to give thanks.

“Hey.” She touched his back. “You still with me?”

“Don’t feel…so good…” He collapsed the rest of the way and curled up on the cavern floor.

Her breath caught. He looked so still, his face pale under his golden tan, mouth a bluish-pink. But his chest was moving.

She gave him a shake. “Damn it, Fane. You better not die on me.”

No response.

Dragging off her sweater, she draped it over his chest before sitting cross-legged on the stone floor to take stock.

The cavern was a rough oval shape about ten feet wide and twenty feet long. They had light and fresh air from that crack in the ceiling. But the best part was the thermal pool. The steaming blue water kept the cavern at a comfortable temperature.

And she still had her knives—and her quartz, thanks to Fane.

That was the good news.

The bad news was she was holed up with an unconscious man and no food. She thought longingly of the backpack she’d left in Sindre’s tower and everything inside it, including the fishing knife.

At least they had water. She’d done her research and knew Iceland had some of the cleanest water in the world. She glanced again at the pool. The water might smell of sulfur, but it was drinkable. All in all, her cat approved of their temporary den—it was safely underground, easy to defend, and even had its own water supply.

And she could hunt for food, assuming it was safe to go outside. She glanced at the ceiling crack, straining to hear the goblins. For now, it was quiet.

Fane dragged in a breath and pillowed his head on his arm. At some point, he’d lost the leather tie around his hair and blond strands spilled over his shoulders. Her fingers twitched, recalling how silky it had felt when he’d kissed her.

Then she recalled how he’d played her and balled those fingers into a fist. All that time she’d thought he’d been helping her, and instead, the prick had been spying on her.

You were a job to him, nothing more.

Then why had he held her in bed last night without asking for more?

And this morning, why had he obtained a decoy quartz for her—and then helped her escape?

Gods, even after Sindre’s attack, he’d come to Blaer’s tower. To help her, Marjani.

---