She screamed.
Vaelor grabbed her arm, hauling her up with a strength that felt like salvation. “Stay with me!”
“I’m trying!” she gasped, heart pounding.
The storm raged around them, hail pelting their faces, wind clawing at their clothes. Lightning cracked overhead, illuminating the endless drop below. The bridge groaned again, louder this time—like a dying creature.
“We’re almost there!” Vaelor shouted.
Mara didn’t dare look up. She focused on her feet, on the next step, on the railing that felt like it might rip free at any moment. Her lungs burned. Her legs trembled. Every muscle screamed for rest.
But she kept going.
For her father.
For Vaelor.
For herself.
The end of the bridge finally came into view—a solid platform carved into the ice, glowing faintly through the storm.
Mara’s vision blurred with relief.
They stumbled onto the platform just as another violent gust slammed into the bridge behind them. The structure swayed so hard she thought it might snap in half.
Her legs gave out.
She fell to her knees and pressed her lips to the cold, wet ground. “I have never loved ice so much in my life.”
Vaelor knelt beside her, one hand on her back, steady and warm despite the storm. “You did well.”
She laughed weakly. “I survived. That’s all I care about.”
But as she looked up at him—soaked, fierce, unshaken—she realized something else.
She hadn’t survived alone.
And that made all the difference.
Chapter 38
Vaelor
Vaelor refused to use the same campsite Blaine and Dugan had chosen. The very idea of sharing ground with Blaine—breathing the same air, sleeping where that male had stood—made his blood heat dangerously. He wasn’t sure if Blaine had survived the blow to the head or the storm that followed. He didn’t care. What he knew, with a clarity that cut through his exhaustion, was that if Blaine had put Mara in danger one more time, Vaelor would have ended him without hesitation.
Mara’s voice pulled him from the dark spiral. “Are we going to look for another cave?”
He heard the fatigue in her tone, the wariness, the tremor she tried to hide. She was soaked through, shivering violently, her lips pale from the cold. There was no time to search for a cave—not with the storm still growling overhead and her body temperature dropping.
“No,” he said gently. “We’ll use that small clearing up ahead.”
It wasn’t ideal. The clearing offered little natural protection, just a shallow dip in the ice and a few jagged rocks that broke the wind. But it gave him a full view of the surroundings. No one would approach without him seeing them first. And right now, visibility and speed matter more than comfort.
Mara stumbled slightly as they reached the clearing. Vaelor caught her elbow, steadying her. She tried to smile, but her teeth chattered too hard.
He moved quickly.
He struck flint to frost-lichen, coaxing a fire to life in the center of the clearing. The flames sputtered at first, fighting the dampness, then flared into a steady orange glow. He set up the tent next, hands moving with practiced efficiency despitethe ache in his muscles. His body was still weakened from the Pulse Labyrinth—his limbs heavy, his head foggy—but he forced himself to keep going.
