Chapter 1 One Missed Call #2
Soon after, he caught sight of the woman who held his heart. His magic roared in his veins, as loud as the thunder booming all around him.
River was on all fours, water rising all around her. She was still wearing her dress from Ryker and Brynleigh’s bonding ceremony. Soaked, it clung to her like a second skin. She appeared so broken and small that Nikhail’s pulverized heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
River’s hair hung in long brown sheets, and she was staring at the water. It had reached her elbows and halfway up her thighs, but there was no sign that she noticed it was climbing.
She could drown.
The horrible thought came to Nikhail in a flash. He could see it now, in his mind’s eye. The waters would sweep over River. Fill her lungs. Would she cry out as it stole her breath? Or would she let her life slip away, giving up before he could get to her?
Nikhail hadn’t thought that water fae could drown, especially not in a storm of their own making, but that certainly appeared possible. He refused to wait around and find out what would happen next.
It was only because of Nikhail’s extensive training that he was able to push past the panic gnawing at him. Later, he could break. Later, he could allow himself to feel the full extent of the shame pulling at his soul, the knowledge that he’d failed the one woman he’d vowed to protect.
Later.
“Get me as close as you can!” Nikhail shouted.
Therian dipped his head and tucked his wings against his side. Roofs came into view, tightly packed townhouses with fenced-in yards, manicured lawns, swimming pools, gardens, and playsets.
A subdivision.
Once, it would’ve been teeming with life. Now, River was the only one in sight.
Therian circled, getting lower, but he didn’t land.
Every minute that passed, every raindrop that fell on Nikhail’s skin was a death knell. He needed to get to River, but the neighborhood wasn’t built to accommodate a dragon of Therian’s size.
It felt like an eternity had passed before the shifter found a safe spot to land. Water splashed as the dragon’s talons dug into the asphalt of what should’ve been a busy street.
Now, abandoned cars littered the road.
The storm was a living, breathing beast. Screams and shouts of alarm lingered. Lightning streaked across the sky, and thunder roared in response a heartbeat later.
Time was running out.
Nikhail released his hold on the dragon’s back and slid down the soaked scales. Water reached his knees as he landed, and he shuddered at the cold sensation.
He turned. Therian was watching him out of the dragon’s eyes.
“Thank you,” Nikhail said.
The dragon chuffed, dipping his head.
Gripping the soaked handles of his backpack, Nikhail half ran, half waded through the water-logged streets. His phone was buzzing in his pocket, but he ignored the vibrations.
Nothing was more important than this.
He raced towards where he’d last seen River. Turning the corner, he spotted a familiar convertible pulled over on the side of the road a few hundred feet away. The engine was still running, the door was open, and nearby…
“No!”
Nikhail’s anguished roar boomed, and the wind carried it back to his ears. An echo of the pain he felt inside. His chest constricted painfully, and the fae part of him contorted, his soul in agony at the silhouette outlined before him.
This was wrong. It couldn’t happen.
Not now.
Not when they hadn’t had the chance to fully explore what they were. What they could be.
Not ever. Not while his lungs still drew breath and his heart still beat.
He needed her.
“River!” Her name, a prayer and a desperate plea, ripped from the very center of his being. “Stop!”
She didn’t react. Didn’t seem to realize that she was in danger, that death was pounding on the door, desperate to claim her.
Nikhail called her name, but she didn’t react or seem to hear him at all.
She was lost to the storm. The realization settled like a stone in Nikhail’s stomach, and he nearly stumbled.
River was so close, yet so fucking far away.
The storm picked up. Raging winds blew. Water crashed all around him.
Nikhail ran, his magic pushing out of him as he drew near. For every gust of wind he soothed, trying to calm the storm, more water poured from the sky. It came harder and harder until he could barely see through the sheets of rain.
No, no, no.
If the storm overcame River completely, if she released the last vestiges of control over to her magic, there was a chance she’d never recover.
Fae could push themselves too far and fall into their magic, never to resurface.
She’d become a shell of the person she was, burn herself and her magic out, until she was nothing but a husk.
That couldn’t happen.
Nikhail’s breath came in short bursts as he reached River, dropping to his knees in front of her.
A keening moan crawled out of the depths of his soul, reverberating all around him. He called her name. Screamed it over the winds. Begged her to look and see him.
Nothing.
“I came.” He took her face between his hands, jolting at the frigidity of her flesh. “I’m here.”
She didn’t seem to register his presence.
His magic battered against his veins, and he pushed more of it out, trying to ease the wind. River’s storm was formidable. Powerful, like he’d always known her to be.
“River, please,” he said—begged. “Look at me, beautiful. You need to call your magic back and put a stop to this. People are going to get hurt if you don’t.”
She wouldn’t want that. His water fae was kind, a doctor by trade, and wouldn’t intentionally hurt a fly.
But right now, when Nikhail peered at River, he couldn’t see the woman he was falling for. All he saw was a fae losing themselves to their magic.
He didn’t have much time left.
A lesser man might’ve broken at the sight of the person they’d spent years pining after in such a state, but that wasn’t an option for Nikhail.
River needed him to be strong for them both.
He’d already failed her once, but this, he could do.
He would prevent her from breaking, or he would die trying.
“I’ve got you.” Nikhail wouldn’t give up on River now, not when he hadn’t yet shown her how it felt to be wholly, unconditionally loved.
Gathering River into his arms like a bride, he held her to his chest and stood. She was far too light. Her head tipped over his arm and faced the sky, and water poured over her.
Nikhail’s chest ached as he carried River to the car. He adjusted his hold on her, maneuvering himself inside the vehicle to turn it off. Water was already seeping inside the car, rising above the pedals.
He carried River to the hood and laid her on top. She stared, unseeing, at the blackened sky.
“I’m sorry.” The lack of response urged him to move faster. “I’m going to help you.”
Nikhail slid the bag off his back. It landed with a thunk on the car beside River. He pulled out a black bundle and untied the knot. The sodden fabric fell away to reveal two shining manacles that seemed to absorb the light.
Every part of the air fae rebelled at the thought of touching the dark cuffs, but he had no choice. Not if he wanted to save River.
Nikhail picked up the first cuff, and the rush of magic in his veins vanished. An awful emptiness swelled inside him, a dark void. The call of the wind disappeared, replaced by an eerie silence.
Nikhail shuddered and lifted River’s wrist.
“Please forgive me for doing this,” he said. “I wish there was another way.”
By the Black Sands, if there was, he would use it.
But her vacant stare and the torrential downpour confirmed what he already knew. This was the only path forward.
And so, even though his soul writhed against the wrongness of his actions, Nikhail clamped the manacle around River’s wrist. Her back arched off the car, and a mangled, pained scream tore from her throat.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he said brokenly as he reached for the second cuff. He wished he were anywhere else. “So gods-damned sorry.”
The matching bracelet went around her other wrist with ease, and she shrieked. The sound of River’s pain was an arrow to Nikhail’s heart, worse than anything he’d ever heard.
The water slowed, but it didn’t stop.
They needed more.
Abandoning his bag, Nikhail scooped up River once more and hugged her to his chest. He wished she would moan, that she would thrash and shout and meet his gaze. He wished that she would do anything at all, but now that her original cries had faded, she was silent, and that was even worse.
Nikhail turned and ran to Therian, whispering in River’s ear the whole time. Telling her all the things they would do when she woke, urging her to settle the storm.
The dragon’s nostrils flared when he saw Nikhail.
“Take us to the Hub,” the air fae commanded, climbing onto the dragon’s back, never releasing his precious cargo. “As quickly as possible.”