Chapter 11

VALLON

Leaving Haldek's place and being back in the sky with her safely in my arms should've calmed me. It didn't. If anything, it only amplified the heart-rattling emotions beginning to consume my every thought.

She'd been quiet since we left, her expression serious. We'd been flying for a few hours. Other than me pointing out landmarks I thought she might be interested in like when we crossed over Lake Moreen, I'd also remained silent.

"Aren't you getting tired?" she asked, the wind having pulled strands of her hair loose.

Every now and then, the wind would blow a silken strand against my neck or chin, the soft caresses torturous.

"It might be good to rest a few minutes." It would be good for me to take a break from her intoxicating scent and the soft warmth of her body in my arms. "Besides, you look cold."

Her cheeks were pink from the constant beat of the wind, and it was beginning to concern me. She wasn't shivering, but the temperatures had dropped dramatically since we'd been flying directly north for several hours. Summer in the mountains felt like winter in Lumeria where she was from.

"A warm fire would be good for a bit," she agreed.

We were directly over the higher foothills of the Solgavia Mountains. I beat my wings and banked us down toward a winding stream. We could fill our canteens there as well.

When we landed, I set her on her feet, then took a moment to wind my arms backward to rotate my shoulder muscles that had become tight and stiff from holding her so long.

"Sorry about that," she said, watching me.

"I'm fine," I assured her.

"Where's Gwenda?"

"She likes to go off by herself, but she always finds me."

Murgha nodded while looking around at the gurgling brook flowing with the clear blue water of snow-melt from high in the Solgavias. There was sparse vegetation, but a lone, thick-trunked elm tree sprouted in a nice spot with some flat stones.

I observed the entire area, seeking any signs of danger. I hadn't seen anyone, but I sensed there may be shadow fae nearby. There should be a patrol on guard a little higher up. The fact that I hadn't seen anyone should've eased my tension, but it didn't.

Prince Torvyn had grown more distant over the past year. Who could blame him with the king's maddening rages? But even that wasn't what set all of us on edge, what had caused our corps of priests to become more and more vigilant. The evil was spreading, and our efforts to suppress it were futile.

Murgha stepped along the brook, smiling serenely. She wanted to know why we guarded the mountain. I'd have to tell her eventually. But for now, I wanted to keep that ugly truth to myself.

My gaze caught on something farther up the stream. Instantly, I walked toward it, passing Murgha, but as I did, I took her hand gently in mine.

She startled but didn't pull away.

"Come see," I said, tugging her toward the bush.

She followed, letting me hold her small hand in mine. That simple touch accelerated my heart rate. Yet again, that deep ache in my fangs, the need to put my mark on her, was growing fierce.

A shadow fae didn't hesitate when he found his mate. He simply took her. It was common among my kind. Our females understood. Often, they'd fight the male off. He'd have to prove himself worthy of claiming her by dominating her in battle, then in bed. If he could subdue her, then he was good enough for her to accept his bite.

But Murgha wasn't a shadow fae female, born with the gifts of a warrior and of illusion. She couldn't get away from me if she tried. So small. So delicate. A hard possessiveness clutched me in an iron fist.

So I wouldn't heed the desperate urge burning a hole inside my chest, pushing me to grip her hard, hold her down, and sink my teeth and cock inside her. Not yet.

"Look." My voice was deep and rough, but I kept a gentle hold on her hand, showing her what I'd seen.

She gasped. "Dellabore!"

Letting my hand go, she rushed forward and kneeled before the flowering bush. The black-pedaled leaves gleamed with a silky sheen even on this cloudy day.

"They're so beautiful," she marveled, beaming up at me.

Her smile made her more lovely, the sight tearing into me a little deeper.

"I'll go make a fire."

"Can I take some of the flower petals? Will they harm me?"

"There's no toxin in the petals or the leaves but use your dagger. They're tough. And be careful of the spikes on the leaves."

She was pulling her dagger from the scabbard as I turned and headed back down the small incline. I needed more space. I needed a moment to quell this growing desire I couldn't seem to control.

Shaking my head at myself, I pulled the portable firepit from my satchel. I'd always been a man of control, the High Priest of Gadlizel with unshakable nerve and poise. Torvyn would laugh if he saw me now, completely undone by a tiny, fair-haired light fae.

I'd told the prince—and my best friend—where I'd been going the past many months. He knew of my vow to my father, but he also knew my duty to him and to Gadlizel came first. At least, it had…before I'd seen her. Before I'd realized she was my divine mate, given to me by the gods.

I'd always imagined my mate would be a fierce warrior, perhaps touched with golden hair by Solzkin himself. I imagined she might be serious and strong with great black wings, so the two of us could soar high over the peaks together.

I could never in my wildest fantasies have imagined that she would be someone like Murgha—small and sweet and so very vulnerable. My heart twisted.

She had no wings to escape danger, no training as a warrior. Though she could wield a tiny dagger fast enough. I smiled at the memory of her holding it to my throat, ready to defend herself. Her courage was greater than any shadow fae female I'd ever known. Murgha had every reason to cower against an opponent twice her size, but she didn't.

After setting up the blue coal fire, I went about pulling out the bread and cheese that Jessamine had wrapped for us. Murgha might be hungry.

Standing, I peered up the stream, not seeing her at the dellabore bush. "Murgha?"

Instantly, I climbed back up to the rocky slope where I'd left her. Right as I reached the dellabore bush, a gasping scream echoed from around a boulder.

"Murgha!"

In a flash, I was around the corner, my gaze falling to her dagger sitting on the edge of a crevasse in the mountainside. Instantly, I was on my belly, peering inside the narrow opening.

"Murgha!" I sensed and smelled her in the darkness.

"I'm here," her voice echoed shakily.

"Are you hurt?"

"I fell on something sharp. My arm is scraped a little." Her voice trembled, and her pulse quickened. "Vallon?"

"Hang on. I think I can loosen these stones here and squeeze down to you." She'd fallen through a crack where the stone had crumbled and come loose, but there was another scent wafting from down below that I didn't like.

"Vallon?"

On my knees, I pulled loose a stone as wide as my chest and dropped it aside. "I'm coming."

Her voice trembled more as she said in a near whisper, "I think there's something down here with me."

Falling back onto my belly, I peered through the wider opening, my gut twisting with blood-chilling fear.

"Don't move," I warned in a low voice. "Be very still."

Murgha tilted her pale face up at the opening, squinting in the dark at the light above and holding her bleeding arm. Surrounding her in a mountainous spill into the shadows were piles and piles of bones.