Page 54 of Kiss of Embers
Release. Catch.
At last, I swung over rocky, pebble-dusted dirt. With a final release, I dropped to solid ground.
Catching my breath, I swung around, my eyes peeled for Zara.
There.She sailed over the abyss, her bright head like a beacon in the gloom. The lithe muscles in her arms pulled taut as she gripped the rope. Even at a distance, the resolve in her eyes shone as brightly as her hair. With a graceful leap, she released her rope and caught the next one. A bead of fire burned above her. She didn’t seem to notice. Eyes on the rope ahead of her, she bided her time, swinging back and forth before soaring to her target.
Admiration welled in my chest. She was strong—and so beautiful I wanted to snatch her from the ropes and carry her off. My kind had a centuries-old reputation for doing that sort of thing. Now I knew why.
A fae landed in a crouch beside me. The aura of menace rolling off him marked him as Unseelie. He rose, chest heaving, and swatted at the fire climbing up the hem of his shirt. Soot streaked his face. An angry red burn on his neck healed as he smothered the flames. When he’d finally extinguished the fire, he looked up.
“What are you looking at?” He followed my gaze to Zara, then made a disgusted sound. “Gods, you dragons are all the same, thinking with your dicks.” He stalked off, his long braid swinging.
“You missed a spot,” I called.
He spun around, swatting at his scorched shirt. “Where?”
“Just kidding.”
The fae scowled. “Get fucked.”
“I intend to,” I said honestly. “Just as soon as I can manage it.” Well, technically, I’d do the fucking. Finn was the bossiest bottom to ever walk the earth plane. And Zara… Lust hit me like a blast furnace. My woman was an undiscovered country ofsensual delights. I was down for whatever she wanted wherever she wanted it.
“Ugh.” The Unseelie’s exclamation brought my attention back to him. He lifted a forestalling hand. “Whatever you’re thinking about, I don’t want to know.” With a halfhearted flash of his fangs, he strode off.
“Good luck finishing the challenge with that stick up your arse!” I called cheerfully.
The Unseelie stuck his middle finger in the air without slowing.
I turned back to Zara. She neared the cliff’s edge, and a bubble of pride threatened to make me giddy despite my less than ideal surroundings. She was doing well. She’d make it. And I really couldn’t afford to delay any longer. With a final lingering look, I charged after the fae.
The temple walls reemerged, the landscape rippling. Smoke cleared, and the air turned chilly. A breeze tugged at my hair.
I slowed as the rocky cliff under my feet disappeared and stone took its place. A few more strides, and the stone split down the middle and slid apart, retreating like two giants pulling a carpet from either side of the cavern.
A scowl formed in my head as I gazed over yet another black abyss. Clearly, Bolveg and the Rules Committee had something of a fetish.
The wind picked up…and then continued building until it reached hurricane status. Apparently, Bolveg and company disliked subtlety as much as they loved bottomless chasms. Cold and ruthless, the wind ripped at my clothes, banishing the last of the dampness from the lake. I blinked and, suddenly, narrow rope bridges spanned the chasm. Dozens of them stretched from one side to the other, forming a spiderweb of pathways barely wide enough to accommodate a single person.
A witch in a red barasta labored across one of the structures, his hair whipping around his head as the wind buffeted him. His bridge rocked wildly, sending him staggering against the webbing that acted as a handrail of sorts.
Pop!The sound split the air like a gunshot. A split second later, one side of the witch’s bridge burst from its moorings in a volley of rocks. My breath caught as the bridge fell in a great arc. The witch clung to the rope, his barasta flapping wildly as the bridge sailed toward the opposite cliff like a stone loosed from a slingshot. The witch slammed into the rock face.
But he held on.
Heart in my throat, I watched as the wind battered his barasta and sent him twisting against the cliff’s face. After a second, he braced his feet against the rock and began to haul himself up. Wind screamed from everywhere and nowhere, setting the rest of the bridges swinging like phantom children played jump rope.
The fae who’d insulted me jogged from the shadows and started across one of the other bridges. His silver hair rippled behind him like a flag. He was nimbler than the witch, his steps steady and sure. My gut soured. The Unseelie dipstick was going to get across just fine.
Finn appeared next to me. “The bridge won’t hold,” he shouted over the wind.
“How do you know?” I shouted back.
“Just watch.”
Moments later, the bridge snapped. Like the witch, the Unseelie maintained his grip as he plunged. The wind pummeled him, but he eventually climbed the ruined bridge, slowly scaling the rock face.
My expletive was snatched by the wind. Finn cupped a hand around my ear.