In a deafening rush, rocks began to tumble down from the ceiling, filling the space between Carrow and Ruby.
Ruby screamed, “Crow! Where are you?”
Carrow screamed back, “I’m coming!”
“Save your girl!” Lanthe yanked her hand free, allowing Thronos to haul her away. “I’ll be okay!”
Carrow’s stricken face disappeared as he dragged Lanthe into the smoke.
After three weeks of imprisonment at the hands of vile humans, Lanthe had been caught again—by something she hated even more than mortals who enjoyed vivisecting their captives. “Let me go, Thronos!” Her body lurched with each of his limping steps.
Almost at once, he veered into a smaller off-shoot tunnel that she hadn’t seen when speeding past it.
“You’re going the wrong way!” She dug her metal claws in, raking furrows into the ground. When a cloud of gravel erupted in front of her face, she coughed up grit. “Damn it, Thronos, turn back!” Blood continued to pour from his wing, leaving a trail beside Lanthe’s furrows. “We were almost at an exit before!”
She and Carrow had been hoping to reach the shore. Now he seemed to be ascending. Leave it to a Vrekener to make for the high ground.
“Centuries I’ve waited for this,” he grated, never loosening his viselike grip around her ankle.
Another quake rocked the tunnel. When a boulder crashed down beside her, she stopped clawing with her gauntlets, instead crying, “Faster, idiot!”
As if she weighed nothing, he yanked her up from the ground and into his arms in one fluid move. He’d grown taller than any Vrekener she’d ever seen. He must be nearing seven feet in height, looming over her five and a half feet. With his gaze boring into hers, he squeezed her against his chest.
His hair—too light to be black, too dark to be brown—was streaked with ash, the matte gray matching his eyes. But as he beheld her, his irises turned to that brilliant silver—like lightning. Like his ghostly wings.
“Let me go!” she yelled, slashing at him with her claws.
He dropped her to her feet—just to shove her against the wall. With his rigid body pressed against her, he leaned in, tilting his head creepily.
Was he going to kiss her? “Don’t you dare!” She moved to strike him again, but he pinned her wrists above her head.
A heartbeat later, he took her mouth, dumbfounding her. He slanted his lips more aggressively, burning away her shock.
She bit his bottom lip. He kept going. She bit harder.
He squeezed her wrists until she thought he would snap her bones. She released him, and he finally drew back, smirking with bloody fangs.
“Now it begins.” With his free hand, he swiped his fingers over his bloody mouth, then reached to smear her lips with crimson.
She jerked her head away. Dear gods, he’s been maddened.
Another quake; more rocks joined that huge boulder, blocking the way they’d come.
“Just brilliant!” She was trapped with Thronos, her survival tied to his. She gazed back at those rocks. Had her friends made it out alive?
Reading her worry, he sneered, “I’d be more concerned about your fate.” She faced her enemy with dread. “Which has at last been sealed. . . .”
TWO
I have her. Thronos just stopped himself from roaring with triumph. I bloody have her.
With her wrists still pinned, he ripped her mask away, his gaze taking in her face. Her wide blue eyes were stark against her soot-marked skin. Dust coated the wild, raven braids that tangled about her cheeks and neck. His blood painted her plump lips. Even in this state, she was still the most alluring creature he’d ever seen.
And the most treacherous.
He tore his gaze away, focusing on their survival. This ungodsly tunnel would fail soon. Out in the night, dangers would lurk in every shadow. Most species on this island hated his kind.
He released Melanthe’s hands, just to yank her back into his arms.
“Hey! Where are you taking me?”
Earlier, Thronos had scented saltwater and rain-steeped air—must be an exit from this maze. With her trembling body squeezed against his chest, he began running/limping in that direction, blocking out the grueling pain in his lower right leg.
Pain from just one of the injuries she’d given him.
Get her to safety; refrain from murdering her.
In a short while, the smoke started to thin. Fewer rocks fell.
Melanthe peered around her. “It’s clearing! Faster, Thronos!”
Instead he stopped dead in his tracks, kicking up gravel. He’d caught a scent. Can’t be right.
When he set her to her feet, she demanded, “What is wrong with you? The way back is blocked; we’re almost out!”
But the threat was already in.
“Is something coming? Tell me!” Her sense of smell wasn’t nearly as keen as his.
An eerie howl echoed down the tunnel. Others joined it.
“Are those ghouls?” she asked, a quaver in her voice.
Even immortals beware their bite. The mindless beasts grew their numbers by contagion. A single bite or scratch . . .
The ground vibrated from their approaching footfalls. Must be hundreds of them.
He would have to fight a swarm of ghouls—underground. Did Lanthe comprehend the danger they faced? Had he captured his prize only to lose it?
Never. He shoved her behind him, flaring his wings.
“You brought me this way! You’ve doomed us.” Oh, yes, she understood the danger. To herself, she muttered, “I was so close to escape. As usual, Thronos ruins my plans. My life.” She snapped at him, “My EVERYTHING!”