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Evalle flinched at Hoyt’s huge sword driving at her.
A black flash of fury knocked her aside.
Not in time.
The sharp tip slashed a deep cut across her upper arm.
She hissed in pain, grabbing her right arm and rolling on her stomach. Never stay down. She’d sit up just as soon as the world stopped spinning.
A jaguar roared, shaking the ground with his fury.
Clamping her teeth shut to keep from moaning—or throwing up—she shouted, “Don’t, Storm!”
Twisting to her knees and looking up, she found the jaguar standing between her and Hoyt, who stood very still.
The Belador’s gaze jumped between her and Storm. Where Hoyt never showed doubt he could best Evalle, his expression displayed serious respect for Storm’s jaguar.
“Storm,” she gritted out.
His jaguar head swung to her with glowing yellow eyes. A deep rumble vibrated his chest that threatened Hoyt would bleed for hurting her.
Storm had warned her his jaguar also claimed her as mate and had almost taken over his body when she turned up missing in Atlanta.
Hoyt said, “I’m sorry, Evalle—”
“Not your fault, Hoyt. Give me a minute. Please.”
Storm’s jaguar snarled at the guard.
“Storm.” Her softly spoken word drew him to her quicker than a shout.
That feral gaze swung back to her. Muscles bunched in his jaguar’s shoulders and black hair tufted behind his neck.
Was she speaking to her mate or his animal?
The massive jaguar heaved several hard breaths, expanding his chest each time. Then he lowered his head and moved forward to put his big chin lightly on her left shoulder.
He inhaled deeply.
That was her mate reassuring himself she was fine.
Now that Storm realized she wasn’t in mortal danger, Evalle said, “Hoyt did exactly what I asked of him.”
A deep growl rumbled.
She added, “If you want to be mad, be mad at me. I made a mistake. Hoyt did his best to avoid cutting me at all.” Saying more pushed the limits of her ability to sound calm. Warm blood continued to ooze between her fingers, filling the air with a coppery scent. The wound hurt bone deep, but she could have lost the limb.
Shifting his black head to her right side, the jaguar lowered his nose to where her skin had been slashed. As if the wound wouldn’t upset him enough, thin black lines continued to spread down her bicep.
In a flash of energy, Storm shifted back to his human form, naked as the day he’d been born. Not that he gave a flip. What man would who walked around in a toned body wrapped with bands of muscle? Plus, Storm lacked the ability to care what anyone thought of him.
Anyone other than her, and she loved every inch of that man, especially naked.
Storm reached down to lift her to her feet. Every move hurt, but she held onto her stoic warrior face.
Failing today had taken a toll on her heart.
She would not fold in front of him or Hoyt.
The Belador guard had given her the chance she’d asked for and she wouldn’t fault him for doing his duty when he reported the outcome to Daegan.
Storm’s rich brown eyes no longer glowed yellow. His gaze swept from her face to her arm with a frown.
She got ahead of the next problem by saying, “We’ll talk about the lines. I think I know what might be going on.”
With a look of resignation in place, he rested his palms lightly on her shoulders. On his next breath, he whispered tribal words she’d heard before when he’d healed her in the past. The ones he currently spoke came from his Ashaninka tribe in South America, but he had a few Navajo ones as well, which he’d learned from his father.
She couldn’t translate what he said, but she recognized the different cadence between the languages.
Her wound closed, and the pain eased.
The black lines remained.
Hoyt cleared his throat, probably feeling as if he imposed on their moment with Storm standing there naked or maybe he’d had enough of this outing.
Storm looked past Evalle to the warrior. “Sorry, Hoyt.”
“No problem.”
Evalle backed out of Storm’s touch. “Give me a minute, please? I’ll meet you at the castle. It’s not far. Okay?”
He said nothing, probably already forming his argument, so she added, “I promise I will come straight there and avoid any chance of getting hurt. Again.”
She smiled to show him she did understand.
For the last few days, she’d been asking for time to work some things out on her own and he’d given it to her.
He’d reached the end of his patience.
Releasing a pent-up breath that came out on a long exhale, Storm muttered, “Okay.” He cupped her face and kissed her. Not a crazy wild kiss, but one that told her how much he still hurt for her. Storm had brought love into her world where she’d had nothing. No one could match his patience, but she wanted to be a partner in their relationship.
Not a constant liability.
When he ended the kiss, he touched his forehead to hers and gave a gentle warning. “I’ll wait five minutes once I get to the castle.”
Any other time, she’d mouth off with some wiseass reply about not living on anyone’s timeframe. Instead, she lifted up and kissed his lips.
Her words came out husky. “Thank you.”
He smiled at the sound, bumped a quick peck to her forehead and turned for the castle. Ripped muscle moved across his back. He moved with the grace of his big cat on those powerful legs.
That was all hers.
Annnd Hoyt was still behind her while she ogled her sexy mate.
Letting her sore arm drop to hang straight and give the impression it didn’t throb, she walked over to the guard. “Thanks for doing this today. I appreciate the respect you gave my request. Sorry I didn’t move fast enough. We both know I should have been cut far worse if not for your incredible reflexes. I clearly haven’t recovered from ... well, you know.“
For such a large man, Hoyt had a temperate voice when he wasn’t hell-bent to kill an opponent. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I didn’t injure you beyond repair.” He paused and shook his head at some thought. “You’re doing damn good for having died and come back to life, Evalle. Don’t forget that and how much everyone respects you as a warrior. Give yourself a chance to heal and we’ll try this again. Okay?”
“Thanks.” She allowed her reply to sound as if she agreed, but she didn’t.
Hoyt would understand if he knew more, but she had yet to tell Storm what she kept inside.
Speaking of her overprotective mate, she had to face him next.
Turning to head for the castle, she glanced back at the spot where she’d left Hoyt standing, which was now empty. He hadn’t teleported since Beladors generally did not posses that ability. He’d vanished silently by tapping into his Belador power.
One of the Alterant-gryphons, like her, had the ability to teleport but it hadn’t been a natural gift. Tristan gained it from a wicked concoction he’d drank while imprisoned in a jungle.
Correction. Not like her.
She could no longer claim being a gryphon, maybe not even an Alterant.
Of all the things she’d suffered, losing her gryphon hurt beyond description. She wanted an enemy to stomp to the ground, but those responsible were dead.
The old druid, Garwyli, kept telling her to have faith, that she would have to believe in herself again to recover fully.
She believed an hour ago.
Hard to right now.
She swallowed. Garwyli had worked on her more than once to heal the external scars she’d sustained from battling as a gryphon while in the realm where she’d been captive. She appreciated not having to stare at a reminder of her imprisonment every day, but now she had to figure out how to repair the internal scarring.
If she told Garwyli her Belador powers were fading, he’d feel as if he’d failed her.
So would Storm after all he’d done.
She strolled forward, stepping over downed trees, which seemed odd since the Treoirs controlled everything in this realm.
Maybe a dead tree made the landscape seem more natural.
Unlike a dead gryphon.
How could she convince Daegan to allow her to return to Atlanta?
She couldn’t walk around in real daylight due to her body’s lethal reaction to sunlight, which meant she’d return to walking the streets of Atlanta at night. Just like before.
She ran a hand over her damp hair and turned to another problem she had to tackle.
Bonding.
Storm believed once they formed a powerful connection, he would be able to help her find her gryphon again.
Opening a bond meant energy flowing both ways. If his powerful energy traveled toward hers to unite, then what happened if her corrupted energy flowed to him?
When he explained bonding a while back, he’d said they would be eternally connected.
She’d asked, “What if I die? Would you die, too?”
He’d said yes without hesitation.
She would have too when she only thought about following him into the afterlife.
As she emerged from the tree line, she searched across the wide field between her and the castle. Storm stood patiently waiting for her.
Her stomach twisted at her next battle.
She could no longer avoid discussing the bond.
