Page 190 of Dare

My pulse rammed into my ribs. If she’d seen my message, she might be here.

With my breath suspended, I gripped my satchel of necessities and stalked toward the cove where we’d said goodbye. The ocean rocked under an orange sky. The sun ducked into the water, and the restless sea rushed back and forth.

Pulse clattering, I scanned the perimeter. Yet only a vacant coastline greeted me.

Nothing more. She had not come.

My heart shattered, crackling like glass. And well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d broken something that belonged to me. The only difference was that everything I had, she now owned. I’d made that clear in the message.

Which she must have seen. Which she had not reciprocated.

The choice had been hers to make. And hers alone.

I turned to leave at the same time a low roar alerted me, followed by a hiss. My eyes trailed the noises and landed on an unlikely trio of fauna lounging at the tree line, where the beach met the forest. The saber-toothed jaguar reclined across the sand, the boa coiled like barbed rope around a low branch, and the red butterfly squatted on a bush, each pack member regarding me intently.

“We meet again,” I said. “Been watching over this realm, have you?”

Naturally, they didn’t respond. After a moment’s consideration, I squatted and pulled open the satchel. “Come here. I may have brought a delicacy from Winter for each of you.”

I glanced up, expecting the creatures to approach. After a few seconds, I halted my movements and frowned. The pack had not budged.

Then again …

Rising with the bag, I noticed what I hadn’t before. A slender rope was knotted to the same bush on which the butterfly perched. My eyes followed the cord running through the sand and ending at a tidefarer boat that floated over the sea. High reeds blocked the vessel from sight, which explained why I hadn’t registered it, nor had the man who’d piloted me here.

She knew how to hide. And for all my logic, I should have deduced the obvious. The fauna weren’t here by chance.

No. They were guarding the boat.

My head snapped from the vehicle to every corner of the shore. In a daze, I stalked toward the conveyance and stalled halfway. A string of letters materialized in my periphery, pulling my gaze down. To the sand. The words.

Catch me.

Potentially, a tease. Likely, a dare.

I left the cove and loyal fauna behind, a premonition urging me into the rainforest, my pace quickening. Sweeping aside ferns with one arm, I disappeared into the wild. The shadows cloaked my figure, and the sweltering heat soaked my shirt. A viper slinked across the branches. Bromeliads burst with color and perfumed the air. Simians howled from the canopy.

The mist thickened, vapor rain approaching. I smashed through the foliage and into one of the hidden cave tunnels. Emerging before the ruins, I charged up the front steps and slammed through the doors.

Across the humid vestibule. Down the cobwebbed halls.

Taking two steps at a time, I barreled up to the cupola. Emerging on the platform, I stumbled in place, the scene threatening to send me to my fucking knees. Seasons flay me, that was even before the aromas of salt, sun rays, and wildflowers flooded my senses.

Among garlands of hibiscus flowers, Flare turned from the vista at the same time I skidded to a halt. Across the divide, we stared while beams of light peeked through the canopy, creating a spotlight between us.

Fuck me to heaven. I drowned in the vision of deep olive skin and dark waves that brushed her shoulders. Like a sea queen, she wore a flowing skirt and an oversized shirt tethered at the waist, with her feet unshod. Reckless. Beautiful. I shook my head, my throat tight and my tear ducts doing things I hadn’t allowed them to do my whole life. Not until this moment.

Because she had made a choice. And she came back to me.

57

Flare

I came back to him.

Across the sea, I hurried back. Across a thousand miles, I rushed back.

There he stood, filling the cupola’s doorway. Crystalline eyes riveted on me, long hair dashed around his features from the breeze, and his open shirt revealed smooth muscles—but for several old scars from our time here—and the vial of sand hanging around his neck.