“You’re doing it.” He paused, waiting for her to respond. She didn’t. “Your magic,” he said softly.
“No, but I can’t-I can’t heal anyone else ...”
“You must be projecting it onto me somehow.” He was sounding stronger by the second, and Solveig’s head started feeling light.
“How do you know my magic can work like this?” she asked skeptically.
Before he could answer, they were interrupted by the horrible sound of a crack shooting through the rock followed by a rumbling above their heads.
“Fuck,” Westley swore under his breath. They both lifted their heads to the sky in time to see several large boulders about to cascade down on them.
“Watch out!” he called, deftly swinging them around, flattening Solveig against the side of the cliff as the rocks came tumbling towards them. Huge stones smashed onto Westley’s barely healed back as hecovered her with his body, protecting her. She pulled him as close to her as she could. She hardly had room to breathe, but she held him tightly.
He pressed into her. If the situation were different, she might be aware of how perfectly they fit. She definitely did not think about that now—that would be inappropriate, to recognize all the interesting places their bodies lined up.
The rocks continued to pour down until there was nothing more than loose gravel sprinkling their heads. Westley’s uneven breaths sounded in her ear.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Mm-hmm.”
After a moment, Westley brought his forehead to hers as his breathing evened out and their heart rates slowed.
Instead of focusing on the way their bodies pressed together, Solveig brought her attention to the feel of her magic under her skin. It flowed more readily, and she breathed in the relief of releasing some of the pressure. She focused on everywhere her skin connected with Westley’s, her magic reaching for him, seeping into him.
He inhaled as her magic hit him and a little of his cool energy passed back to her. Her body ached for more of him.
“Did you threaten to murder me when you thought I was dead?” he asked, clearing his throat. Damn his heightened Fae senses.
“Yes. And I stand by it. If you die before I get to kill you, I will reach into Hel itself to pull you out, just so I can send you right back.”
Westley chuckled softly. “Good to know, General.” They stayed like that for a moment more before he lifted his head, their bodies still pressed firmly together. He met her gaze and the intensity in his eyes charged the air, the storm thundering above them. Rain began to fall, but still, they remained locked together.
“We should go,” he said, breaking the spell. She nodded, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.
The rocks became slippery as the rain continued to pour down on them. They took turns climbing up the cliff, pushing and pulling each other, using the vine rope as leverage where they could. Solveig’s muscles were screaming by the time her hand reached up and was met with wet, spongy grass on her raw and bleeding fingertips.
She was about to pull herself up when a large cool hand landed on the underside of her thigh, right below her butt cheek. Blood redistributed in her body at the touch.
“A bit close to my ass there, Prince.”
“Just trying to help you up,” he said innocently.
“Somehow I don’t quite believe you.”
With the helpful placement of his hand, she was able to hoist herself up and then reach down to grab him as he climbed the rest of the way. Once they were safely on solid ground, they flopped onto their backs, chests heaving.
“I still can’t believe that worked,” Westley muttered.
“I can’t believe you threw us off that cliff,” Solveig said.
Westley let out a sigh and they burst out laughing, relief and exhaustion coursing through their spent bodies.
Footsteps sounded on the grass and a voice sobered both of them immediately.
“Nice of you to join us,” Maddock said, his large presence looming over them.
SolveigandWestleyjumpedto their feet, their hands reaching for weapons that were no longer there.
