The path up the cliffside was steep and narrow, carved by centuries of wind and rain into a treacherous ribbon of stone. He climbed it easily, his claws finding purchase in the rough rock, but he kept glancing back to check on her. He needn’t have worried. She moved with the same fluid grace she showed in the water, her webbed fingers gripping holds he wouldn’t have trusted with his full weight.
“You climb like you were born to it,” he said.
“I climb like someone who spent her childhood escaping from a laboratory.” There was a bitter edge to her voice that made his chest tighten. “When your father sees you as a test subject, you learn to find places where the monitoring equipment can’t reach.”
“He hurt you?”
“Sometimes, but not because he was cruel. The operations he did saved my life.” She paused, pressing herself flat against the rock face as a gust of wind tried to tear her from the cliff. “He just… never saw me as a person. I was always Project Siren first, daughter second.”
His claws dug into the stone. The urge to protect her—to find her father and show him exactly what happened to those who hurt what belonged to a Vultor warrior—threatened to overwhelm him, but he forced himself to keep climbing.
“You’re so much more than just a project.”
“Sometimes I wonder.”
“Don’t.” The word came out as a growl. “Don’t let them make you small, Ariella. You’re amazing.”
Silence. Then, so softly he almost missed it: “Thank you.”
They reached the ledge where the solar array was mounted—a small platform of rusted metal and cracked panels that jutted out from the cliff face like a broken wing. He had salvaged it several years ago, jury-rigging it to power a few basic systems when necessary. The communications device. A heating unit for the worst winter storms. A water purifier for when Lilani was too sick to drink from the spring.
“It’s not much,” he said, watching her examine the damaged panels with curious fingers. “But it’s enough.”
“This is incredible.” She traced the edge of a cracked solar cell, her expression filled with wonder. “You built this yourself?”
“Modified it, mostly. The Vultor don’t put a lot of emphasis on technology, especially here, but I learned what I needed to survive.” He crouched beside her, pointing to a tangle of corroded wires. “That’s the problem. A storm shorted out the main connection. I can splice the wires, but my hands are too big to reach the junction box. I would have to take it apart completely.”
She peered into the narrow space he indicated, then nodded. “My hands will fit. What do I need to do?”
Her brow furrowed in concentration as he talked her through the repairs, her teeth catching her lower lip in a way that made his beast rumble with appreciation. She was so different from the Vultor females he’d known—softer, and infinitely more fascinating. And yet there was a core of steel in her that resonated with everything he admired.
She would make a formidable mate,his beast whispered.Strong enough to stand beside you. Fierce enough to protect your daughter. Tender enough to heal the wounds you carry.
She’s not for us,he reminded himself.She belongs to another world. Another life. We are merely… borrowed time.
“I think I’ve got it,” she said, pulling her arm free. Her fingers were smudged with grease, and a strand of damp hair had escaped to hang across her face. She looked rumpled and beautiful and entirely too appealing. “Try the connection.”
He flipped the switch on the main panel, and a green light flickered to life. Power hummed through the ancient system, and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Now he could contact Torrath and hopefully get some answers.
“Well done.” He reached out without thinking and brushed the strand of hair from her face. Her skin was cool and smooth beneath his fingers, and her breath caught as he traced the edge of her jaw.
“Valrek—”
The sky chose that moment to open up.
Rain came crashing down without warning, driven by a sudden squall that howled up from the sea. Within seconds, they were both drenched, the wind whipping water into their eyes and threatening to tear them from the exposed ledge.
“This way!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards a narrow crevice in the cliff face—a gap barely wide enough for one person, let alone two. But it was shelter, and shelter was all that mattered when the coastal storms turned violent.
He pushed her in first, then squeezed in after her, his massive body filling every inch of available space. The crevice was tight, forcing them together from shoulder to hip. Her back was against his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin, and with every breath she took her body brushed tantalizingly against his. He was suddenly, achingly erect.
“Sorry,” he rasped, shifting slightly to create some distance between them, but there was nowhere to go.
“It’s fine.” Her voice was breathless, her skin flickering nervously beneath her damp suit. “It’s just… close in here.”
He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent—cold sea and warm honey and the fresh, clean smell of the rain. He could feel her heart beating against him, a frantic little rhythm that matched the pulse that was pounding in his own blood.
“Are you all right?” he managed, his voice rough.
