Storm of Desire by Bec McMaster

Author:Bec McMaster [McMaster, Bec]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lochaber Press
Published: 2018-01-17T18:30:00+00:00

It was a slow chase, with Haakon and Árdís slipping and sliding down the mountain with the horses. The rain was merely a fine mist now, but Árdís squealed as her feet went out from under her and she landed on her backside.

Haakon grabbed her before she could vanish off the side of the mountain, his fingers probably hurting her, he was squeezing her so tightly. He helped her to her feet, heart racing. "Be careful."

"Sorry. I wasn't looking where I was walking. They're getting closer," she whispered. "I think they're starting to gather their courage to attack."

Haakon cursed under his breath. "Down there," he said, pointing to a valley filled with a low-lying miasma of steam. "I can see mud bubbling, and smell the sulfur. If we can pick our way through the mud pools, then they can't rush us."

"That's your brilliant idea? They can't come at us, but what if we trap ourselves? We can't run either."

"Running out of options," he said sharply. "As you've pointed out, I can't make the sun rise."

Árdís hissed under her breath. "Curse this stupid damned bracelet. I hate feeling so helpless."

"Welcome to the mortal world," he snapped, guilt stirring through him. "Not all of us can fly our way to safety, or strike our enemies with lightning."

Árdís glared at him, and his blood rushed through his veins. "I cannot help being what I am."

"And neither can I!"

He pushed her forward, hovering close enough to grab her if she fell again. She was dreki, and he only a man. The difference between them wasn't insurmountable, but then she'd left him and he still didn't know why.

Árdís marched with stiff steps, her spine straight.

Damn it. Haakon raked a hand through his damp hair. She wasn't the only one who felt trapped or helpless. What sort of man was he if he couldn't save her? His gut knotted up tight. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I don't like feeling like I can't protect you."

It was worse since she'd vanished.

And now to have her back within arm's reach, but in danger?

The very thought churned within him.

"Apology accepted." Another couple of stiff-legged steps. Her shoulders slumped, and her voice softened. "If it is any consolation, I know exactly how you feel. I would do anything to save you from harm."

It wasn't as if she could kick his pride any harder. "You don't have to protect me, Princess."

Árdís glanced at him, and for the first time he felt like all her defenses were lowered. There was something in her eyes—pain, sadness, even perhaps a hint of longing—that made him catch his breath. He felt like he was on the verge of discovering her deepest, darkest secrets. Her soul.

Then her gaze shuttered. "What sort of dreki would I be if I didn't protect you? I dragged you into this mess. I will get you out of it, no matter what I must do."

"Árdís—"

She shook her head. "Not now. We both need to focus. We're here, and while I could survive a mud bath, I daresay it would melt the flesh from your bones.

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