Page 60 of Hellfire to Come
“You have me. I’m here,” I whispered. “Still here.”
He made love to me slowly, reverently. Every shift of his hips pushing him deeper and forcing my channel to clench from the fullness. Every brush of his lips left scorched skin in their wake. My oversensitive skin was ready to combust and pressure started coiling like a too tight spring in my lower belly. Our movements became erratic, the touch more frantic as we chased the promise of ecstasy together until I was pushed over the edge on a gasp that was more a moan and he followed me through it.
“Still here.” I rasped in his ear when I caught my breath.
And for that moment while wrapped in his arms, our bodies connected impossibly close that you couldn’t tell where he ended and I began, drowning in the steady beat of his heart against mine, I believed it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
DOMINIC
I couldn’t believe our luck when we finally convinced the shaman that Brooklyn was well enough to travel back to the house. The trees parted around us like old sentinels, letting us pass without fanfare or farewell as if they too couldn’t wait for us to be out of that place. The path away from the reservation was narrow and overgrown, dappled in soft shafts of morning light that pierced the canopy above. Each step we took away from Laughing Crow’s home felt heavier than it should have. Not because of exhaustion, though gods knew we were both bone-deep tired, but because of what waited for us on the other side.
Or what might not wait for us.
A lump formed in my throat the size of a fist.
Brooklyn walked just ahead of me, silent, her posture rigid with frustration she didn’t bother hiding. The wind caught her hair now and again, lifting it like strands of dark flame. She hadn’t said a word since we passed the last set of wards.
I watched her shoulders rise and fall with each breath, the tension in her muscles as tight as a drawn bow. Her silence wasn’t the kind that invited comfort. It was the kind built fromself-blame, from fire that couldn’t be cooled with logic. She carried her guilt like armor, welded to her bones.
“You’re thinking about Rowan,” I said gently, catching up to her side.
“I’m thinking about all of them,” she answered without looking at me. “But yes. Mostly Rowan.”
Her voice was low, bitter with guilt. I could feel the weight of it in her words, like ash clinging to the back of my throat.
“I know it’s not rational,” she continued, finally glancing my way. “But I can’t help feeling like we should’ve done more. Pressed harder. Forced the shaman to say more than just that cryptic bullshit.”
“She didn’t lie to you,” I said carefully. “She said you’d know when the time was right. That’s not the kind of thing you can drag out of someone before it’s ready.”
Brooklyn stopped walking. Her boots crushed a patch of moss beneath her, and her fists clenched at her sides. “I know Alice is awake and recovering. And don’t ask me how I know that, it’s freaky enough as it is to feel the certainty without trying to explain it. But Rowen? He’s still unconscious, Dominic. Every hour we spend away from him…”
“Is another hour he’s still breathing,” I said quietly.
She exhaled harshly through her nose, jaw tight with unspoken anguish. There was no salve for this kind of hurt. No spell or charm to soothe the gnawing doubt in her heart.
Her jaw twitched, but she didn’t argue. Just turned her face back to the trees, like the bark might offer some wisdom we hadn’t found yet.
“I know you want more answers,” I went on. “Hell, so do I. But we’re not going back empty-handed. Alice is alive. The curse is broken. That matters.”
“But what if I traded one life for another?” she whispered. “What if saving her means Rowan doesn’t wake up?” Shefaltered for a second then on a heavy sigh rubbed a hand over her face. “And I could never feel guilty for saving Alice over someone else. Which makes me a shitty person.”
I stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. She let me, though her body was tense beneath my palm.
“You didn’t trade anything,” I said. “The spirits took what they wanted. They would’ve taken it whether you begged or not.”
“I just… I can’t help thinking she knew. Laughing Crow. She knew Rowan needed something. But she wouldn’t say what.”
“She didn’t say it,” I agreed. “But maybe she didn’t have to. Maybe it’s not her place. Maybe it’s yours.”
That made her pause.
The trees creaked around us, as if leaning in to listen. Somewhere far behind, a bird called. A lonesome note that faded too quickly. I watched her blink against the light filtering through the leaves, as if trying to push away her thoughts, but they stuck to her like burrs.
“I don’t know how to save him,” she admitted, and the cracks in her voice nearly undid me.
“You don’t have to yet,” I said. “Not today. Today we go back. We gather our people. We heal what we can. The rest... we’ll face it together.” Taking her hand, I pulled her to a stop so she had to look at me. “You’ll be able to think better after you see with your own eyes that Alice is on the mend. Yes? And then the three of us will figure out how to help Rowen together.”
