16. Sixteen
Sixteen
Callan flexed his fingers uselessly once Nova and the others disappeared from view, muttering a curse under his breath.
Eager to busy his mind, he checked over Shade and the other two horses, which he’d tethered to a tree.
Frost had been left free to wander as he pleased, and the stallion had vanished into the thick jungle.
After pacing back and forth for a time and doing a fine job of upsetting the horses, Callan finally squatted down at the base of the tree, leaning back and knocking his head against its solid trunk a few times.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. Being separated from Nova when he knew she was traipsing straight into a potentially dangerous situation was a special kind of torture.
The uneasy flicker of his intuition spread to his limbs, urging him to take action.
He sprang up from the ground, drawing startled snorts from the mounts, and tied his hair back as he strode to the center of the clearing.
Inhaling deeply through his nose, Callan drew his sword from the sheath at his back.
Exhaling through his mouth, he began to move.
As he focused his attention on the precision of his movements, flowing through a series of strikes and blocks, his mind finally quieted.
Before he realized it, roughly an hour had passed, the sun having shifted slightly from its apex in the sky.
He completed the final sequence and stood in the clearing, wiping sweat from his brow brought on more by the humidity than the exertion.
The horses whinnied nervously and pulled against their leads.
Callan glanced around the clearing, noticing then that the songbirds and buzzing insects had gone quiet.
He whirled in the direction of the lake, where a swarm of ravens—hundreds of them—circled and dove, dipping below the treetops in the distance.
He thrust his sword into its sheath and whistled sharply, the sudden noise sending a handful of colorful birds scattering into the sky.
Frost charged out of the trees, slowing only for an instant as Callan grabbed hold of the saddle and mounted up.
They rode hard through the dense forest toward the lake, leaping over roots and dodging hanging limbs.
Frost ground to a halt when they entered the clearing, and Callan slid from the saddle, taking off running as soon as his boots hit the ground.
Samira knelt at the lake’s edge, struggling to maintain control of the water as the ravens swarmed her, diving down and pelting her like hailstones.
Bryn swooped through the sky, slaying the smaller birds with her talons and dropping their limp bodies into the water.
Callan raised his hands in front of him, a current of frigid air flowing forth toward the water’s edge. A sheet of ice formed at the shoreline, spreading rapidly across the surface of the lake until it reached the center.
“Samira!” Callan shouted over the din of croaking birds. “Help Bryn!”
Relinquishing her hold on the water, Samira conjured a tempest, gathering the remaining ravens with swirling winds and casting them southward until they resembled a faint, dark cloud on the horizon.
Callan sprinted across the frozen trail on the surface of the water and threw himself down on his stomach when he reached the center.
Peering over the edge, he found Nova scaling the walls of ice, a blade gripped in each fist.
Grasping her under her arms, he hauled her up onto the ice beside him.
Her jaw was clamped shut, beads of sweat dripping down her brow.
Callan took her face in his hands, searching her for injuries.
The muscles in her right arm appeared to be contracted painfully, a fragment of black metal clutched in her hand.
“The shard,” she ground out. “I can’t let it go.”
Without hesitation, he reached for it.
“Don’t touch it—” The warning burst from her lips just as he took hold of the blade.
As gently as he could, Callan peeled her fingers off the weapon one by one until he was able to pull it free. Feeling nothing, he dropped it onto the ice and resumed his inspection of his mate.
Nova cradled her right hand against her chest, breathing heavily and flexing her fingers.
Though her glove was ruined, no wounds marred her skin. Callan retrieved the black blade and stowed it in the pouch at his hip. He shot a glance at the southern horizon. The flock of ravens had vanished; Samira must have succeeded in casting the birds out to sea.
“Let’s get you off the ice,” Callan said, pulling Nova onto her feet. He draped her arm over his shoulder and walked her along the rapidly melting ice bridge to shore.
“You shouldn’t . . . be here,” she said when they reached dry land, her voice a gravelly rasp as she clutched her hand to her chest. Callan nodded, biting back a smile at her decision to scold him given the circumstances.
Bryn shifted back to her Fae form and landed on the ground beside Samira, who stood a short distance away.
Callan whistled sharply and Frost trotted to his side. He made to bend down to help Nova mount, but, all at once, a strange sensation flooded his mind. An overwhelming urge.
He straightened to attention, his hands falling to his sides as he turned back to the lake.
From the depths of the water, a haunting voice floated on the air, echoing in his head and filling him with an intoxicating mix of urgency and unbridled desire.
He managed two stumbling steps toward the water’s edge before a stunning female rose through the surface at the center of the lake, shimmering rivulets cascading down her naked body.
She fixed her dark eyes on him, an enticing pout on plump red lips.
Long black hair, wet and shining, clung to her curves, the dark strands barely hiding her breasts from view.
Callan couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Her lips parted and she reached for him, beckoning, her voice a haunting lilt stoking the intense, aching need burning within him.
Without hesitation, Callan rushed into the water.
Nova couldn’t mount the horse on her own, not with her hand still burning as if she clutched a live ember in her fist. She’d lifted her foot to settle it into the stirrup, but Callan was suddenly gone from her, facing the water, his head cocked to the side as if he’d heard something.
Nova eyed him warily. “Callan?”
He didn’t respond, seemingly unaware she’d spoken at all.
A piercing cry cut through the eerie quiet, harsh and grating like the tip of a blade dragged along rusted metal.
Nova winced, ducking slightly and clapping her hands over her ears.
She shot a glance at Samira and Bryn, who’d had the same reaction, both females grimacing at the unpleasant noise.
Her eyes flicked back to Callan moving unsteadily toward the water, seemingly entranced.
As Nova took a step toward him, Mara rose out of the lake and hovered above the surface.
Her blotchy green skin hung loose, sagging on her bones like an ill-fitting garment, as she reached for Callan.
The creature’s black hair was thinning with large clumps missing, the scraggly ends sticking to her limp breasts.
She opened her mouth, dripping blood like a wound slashed across her face, and cried out again.
Nova fell to her knees, the screech reverberating painfully in her skull.
She’d barely regained her footing when Callan charged into the lake.
As the water reached his knees, he stumbled and fell, flailing his arms and splashing wildly as he struggled to reach the creature.
Nova gritted her teeth against the pain of Mara’s shriek and sprinted into the shallows after him.
Hooking her left arm around his middle, she hauled him back, but lost her balance.
Callan crashed down on top of her like a felled tree, and her head dunked under the lake beneath his weight, water flooding her nose.
He thrashed on top of her; she couldn’t come up for air.
Nova wrapped her legs around his hips and locked her ankles, refusing to let go.
Panic bloomed in her chest, her body begging her to take a breath, darkness seeping in along the edges of her vision.
All at once, Callan rolled off of her and she burst through the surface, coughing and gasping for air. Samira and Bryn sat in the shallows, each with a hold on one of Callan’s arms. Still, he fought against them, desperate to wade further into the water.
“Bryn,” Nova choked once she had breath. “Get him out of here!”
Bryn leapt up and shifted in a heartbeat, her enormous wings beating forcefully as she snatched Callan out of the water with her talons.
Nova managed to get on her feet, breath still ragged, as Bryn soared back toward the Tundara Estate.
Callan continued to struggle even as Bryn clutched him tightly in her claws.
Once Callan disappeared from view, Mara’s screams died out. Nova and Samira scrambled onto dry land, wary eyes fixed on the creature. Mara sank until she was nearly submerged, the empty sockets of her eyes bobbing above the surface for a moment before finally vanishing into the depths.
Nova exchanged a weary look with the Noble Lady, both panting in the oppressive heat.
Nova forced out a weak whistle, and Frost, who had bolted when his rider was carried off into the sky, answered her call.
She and Samira rode back to the clearing where the other horses remained tethered, gathering the animals and racing back to the Estate as quickly as the dense terrain would allow.