Page 63 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?” he asks, stepping behind me before I can answer. He tightens one of the straps I forgot, his knuckles brushing against my ass in the process, and the confident tug radiates deep in my belly. “If I fall, I can turn into a cloud. You can’t.”
He doesn’t need to remind me that we’re only doing this because I lack the power to fly down. I wish I could make him swallow his condescending smile—make him green with envy at the truth of it—but he’s not wrong. If I mess this up, I die. Simple as that.
He finishes threading my rope in, then checks on my harness again, blatantly copping a feel at this point. “Nice ass, witch.” He pinches my butt cheek, and I elbow him in the ribs to get him off me.
A laugh escapes him before he plants his boots on the edge and leans back like he’s done this a thousand times. “Would you like me to hold your hand?” he asks, smug and far too amused.
“Offer that again, and I’ll push you off this cliff.”
“After you, then.””
He motions for me to lead the way, and I turn my back to the foggy void, inching backward until I’m teetering on the edge. Muffling a flurry of curses, I begin my descent.
The first hundred feet are the worst, but the pressure in my ribcage slowly eases.
As a child, I used to swing between the towering trees of the Secret Springs gardens, using vines as ropes. This isn’t so different.
Once I get the hang of it, I pick up speed and glide down the rope with grace.
Seth whistles. “You’re good at this.”
I grin up at him. “Keep up, pretty boy.”
He slides down with ease, giving chase—turning it into a competition, which I’m always game for. It makes me forget the wind, the rain, and the deadly rocks waiting below. When my feet hit solid ground first, I tip my chin up and throw Seth a victorious grin.
“Well done, but I gave you a head start. Next round, you won’t be so lucky.”
With a quick zap of magic, Seth slices off the tops of both ropes, and the protective bubble around us wavers.
A sudden bout of rain beats down my head and shoulders, flattening my hood against my hair and chilling my skin.
I open my arms to the storm. “Are you a sore loser, pretty boy?”
The long ropes fall in tangled heaps at our feet, and Seth bends down to retrieve them. “I haven’t lost, yet,” he says with a wink. “This was merely a practice round, and you,darling, better get used to defeat.”
The rain tapers off, and I’m left breathless—not from the cold, but from the raw, electric thrill humming beneath my skin. My heart pounds against my ribs, every nerve alive with a rush I haven’t felt in ages.
I’ve stared down monsters and danced with death. But this easy banter, this comfortable camaraderie, feels like the most dangerous edge I’ve stood on yet.
Chapter 19
Wild Horses
DEVI
“Are we there yet?” I ask after hours of rappelling down cliffs, hiking across rocky hills, then rinse and repeat.
We’ve been at this for hours, and we’re nowhere near the bottom of the trench where the main road leads into the city. I’m sweaty and deliciously sore—meanwhile, Seth doesn’t look remotely tired. We’re halfway down a particularly steep stretch, and I’m praying this is the last one.
“How come you’re so good at this?” I grumble.
“I used to work on the Aelioans, rappelling down their sides for repairs and such.”
I stare up at the nearest wind turbine looming above us, wondering how anyone could rappel down those slick, steep metal sides in this weather, while giant, razor-sharp blades slice the air inches away.
“Freya’s only son, working in dangerous conditions, risking his life for some power plant? Why do I find that hard to believe?”
