Page 130 of Lana Pecherczyk
Five seconds to impact.
Fuck! The monster lost interest in Lark.
Four.
It swam toward Blake and the fledgling.
Three.
River foundPeacemaker’sgrip and angled into a dive.
Two.
The weapon split with familiar comfort.
One.
Impact. Twin crescent blades struck flesh—a blessing, considering the kelpie’s semi-liquid state. Red bloomed through the water, mixing with bubbles as River submerged and swiped again for a follow-up.
He hit nothing but water.
Using mana to power his swim, he kept himself within reach as he hacked. But his third and fourth strikes failed. ReconnectingPeacemaker, he used his free hand to grip the beast’s seaweed-like mane and concentrated on holding on. He sucked air into his lungs whenever they lifted above the surface. But the kelpie switched tactics. It knew he needed to breathe, so it dove.
They spun round and round, barrelling downward. Water crushed against his chest as they plunged. The surface light dimmed.
River clung to any solid flesh that formed, stubbornly refusing to let go. His mate—his world—would likely be dead if he did. Desperately grappling, holding on for dear life, their spiral destroyed calmer waters at the bottom of the river.
A sense of déjà vu hit him.
He’d first noticed these calmer waters the day he’d jumped off the cliff with Cloud. No mana left. No care for his safety. Angry because his best friend was growing up and falling in love … leaving River behind.
Down here, none of it had mattered. There was only peace.
His lungs burned. Lashing pain erupted where the kelpie’s morphing claws thrashed against his body. Panic tried to force its way in, but he leaned into the peace of this place and gripped harder. He emptied his mind, and an idea struck—Trix’s upgrades. She’d warned him not to use too much mana. A power blast could extend farther than the shield parameters.
But that’s what he wanted. If he angled it right, the kelpie’s morphing body wouldn’t be able to escape a hit.
Risky. Insane. Dangerous.
That’s what makes you the best person for the job.
He gathered his bearings through the rotating chaos of bubbles and blood. With the Well-blessed bond, he could pinpoint Blake’s exact direction. The others were the opposite.
He angledPeacemakeragainst the kelpie’s liquid flesh and let go of everything holding him back. Mana surged through his arms into the chakram and exploded outward. The force of the blast rocketed him up, up, up into the open air. Gasping through the spray, he glimpsed a geyser of viscera and gore. Scattered, dismembered horse limbs hurtled in all directions.
With no time for a victory cry, he landed back in the water. He snappedPeacemakerto his belt and kicked off, following the direction of the current—and the bond—toward his mate. His leather uniform and weapons weighed him down like anchors, so he pumped more power into his strokes. It didn’t matter if he emptied his inner well, not with Blake here to borrow from.
So long as she remained alive.
Closing the distance, he registered her lifting the fledgling to the safety of his hovering parents. But Blake’s assistance ruined her rhythm. The moment the child was out, nature’s fury dragged her along in its grip.
The father glanced worriedly at Blake’s struggle, his hand briefly leaving his son. The extra weight caused an imbalance, and the mother’s grip slipped. The fledgling cried out.
“I’ve got her—go!” he bellowed.
When his eyes met with the father, River was shocked to recognize the Corvus. A nod of respect passed before he returned to his family.
River’s muscles screamed as he fought to close the gap, but sensing Blake’s increasing panic drove him harder. She’d saved the boy; now it was River’s turn to save her. The roar of the approaching falls drowned out the thundering of his heart.
