Maddox reaches for my hand—a reflex. Green fingers intertwine with tanned ones. “If we have the misfortune of meeting this fae, we must not trust them. There is no telling their intentions. Stay close to me.”
I’m already wrapped around him like a vine. How much closer can I get?
My mind drifts back to last night, when the strong hands now holding mine were between my thighs.
There is one way we could be closer, but that would involve removing all our clothes and?—
What am I doing? I shouldn’t be fantasizing at a time like this. For all we know, the fae down here with us could be a vicious murderer. He could be a cannibal, consuming fae flesh for his meals.
Not that there are any other fae down here for him to hunt. What if he’s not fae at all but something else entirely?
We need to get out of here.
My stomach grumbles.
Maddox’s gaze falls to my protesting middle. “We must find food and then search for somewhere safe to stay this night.”
Somewhere safe. Hidden from sight. But where?
My stomach growls again. “Should we catch some fish?” I say with a forced smile to hide the fear twisting through me.
And by we, of course, I mean Maddox, because I’m entirely useless.
I could always offer to start the fire, but everything is so wet, I’m not sure where we’re supposed to find fuel. Without a fire, we won’t be able to cook the fish.
What I wouldn’t give for the safety and comfort of a sun-drenched table at LaMonte, an almond croissant in one hand and a steaming mug of tea in the other.
“Let us first check for berries.”
Berries sound a hundred times better than raw fish.
Maddox stalks forward on silent feet, toward the thicker shrubbery at the base of the cliff.
The mud isn’t as kind to me, sucking at my shoes until I’m forced to remove them. How is he not sinking? Unseelie magic of some sort? With my fingers hooked in my slippers and mud squishing between my toes, we finally reach the cliff face. The trail—if one would even call it that—is barely as wide as my slippers end to end. If it gets any smaller, we’ll be doomed.
Tomorrow’s problem.
First, we must?—
A low growl rumbles from the bushes. Maddox’s body goes completely still, the muscles in his shoulders bunching. Coiling. With the slightest flick of his hand, he motions for me to get behind him right as the largest beast I’ve ever seen prowls from between the shrubs, its bloodshot eyes trained on us.
“I want you to start climbing,” Maddox whispers.
“What? No.” I cannot leave him behind to face this beast alone.
“Please, Nia.”
What good am I to him in this fight? I’ll only get in the way.
Slowly, I press my back into the cold cliff wall, fear choking off my breath as I inch closer to where the path begins to rise.
The wolf’s lips draw back, revealing razor-sharp teeth. Maddox withdraws his dagger, but to use it, he’ll have to get too close to the monster with death in its eyes. If only the spear hadn’t been lost to the flood. If only he had a sword in his rucksack.
If only . . .
The wolf rears back. Lunges.
Maddox swipes out with his blade, slamming the end into the wolf’s throat.
