66

“Careful,” Kodan said. She held out her arm in front of me, as if to hold me back. I shoved her away and took a step closer to the cave.

“Elias,” I said again. I crouched down, so I was at his eye level, and my heart pounded desperately as I gazed into his familiar golden gaze. “It’s me. It’s Reyna.”

He snarled again. I’d never seen him behave like this; even when he was in wolf form, he always moved with an easy regality, a self-assuredness. I’d never seen this cold, feral look.

“Please,” I said. Was Kodan right?

Had he gone crazy?

“Please, Elias. Don’t you know me?” I begged.

He lunged forward.

He moved so quickly I had no time to react. Kodan shouted but Elias easily knocked her aside with the bulk of his body as he slammed me into the ground, barely avoiding slamming my skull into a nearby boulder.

“Kodan, no!” I shouted.

Kodan kept her hand on the hilt of her sword, but stayed still, leaning heavily against the mountain.

Above me, all I could see was Elias. His familiar wolf, his pelt dark as night, his golden eyes, his teeth bared as he stared down at me. I was on my back beneath him, supine and vulnerable, but I didn’t try to throw him off.

He was still Elias. He was still my husband. I didn’t just believe it, I knew it—my wolf knew it. But I wasn’t going to shift. Not until I knew he still could.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. I moved my fingers through the thick, coarse fur at the ruff of his neck. He was so warm to the touch. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Elias’ ears dropped back and he lowered his head. He snuffled at my neck and shoulder. His breath was warm, and his teeth were so close to my skin, but I didn’t feel afraid. I closed my eyes and kept my arms wrapped around his neck, fingers wound tight inside his coat.

He whined, low in his chest, and the sound made my heart shatter. I clung harder to him and swallowed around the lump in my throat.

He reared back, shaking off my grasp. He snarled at me again, and then the air crackled with power as he shifted. It wasn’t an easy one, done in a breath like I was used to seeing—it was slower, and looked a little painful as his human form fought its way to the surface.

“You left me,” he said in a rough, cracked voice.

I was pinned by the weight of my emotions, propped up on one elbow as I drank in the sight of him. His eyes still burned gold. His hair was long, and a rough beard had grown on his defined jaw. He’d lost weight, and his muscles were starkly defined. Dirt covered his tan skin. “Elias,” I said. I wanted to get closer, wanted to wrap my arms around him, kiss him, remind him who he was. Who we were.

“You left me,” he snarled again.

“I had to,” I said as I clambered to my feet. “But I’m back now, Elias, please—the kingdom needs you. They need us.”

He bared his teeth. “Go.”

“I need you,” I said softly. I took a step closer. “Come back to me. Please.”

“Go!” he roared. “You left me once. Now do it again. There’s nothing for you here.”

“Elias,” I begged. “Just listen to me.”

“Go back to the dragon.”

His words were like a blade through my heart. I took a staggering step back. Something that looked almost like sadness—or regret—briefly flashed over his features, but then his expression hardened again. He shifted back into his wolf, and bounded down the pass and out of sight.

“Elias!” I called after him. I started to move after him, ready to shift and make chase, but Kodan caught my upper arm before I could.

“Don’t,” she said. “Let him go.”

“Let him?” I asked incredulously. “How can I just let him leave me behind?”

“He’ll come around,” she said. “You got him to shift back. That’s more than I thought he’d be able to do.” She sighed and gazed in the direction in which he’d ran. “Come on. We’ve got to let him come back on his own terms.”

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and led me back toward the way we’d came. Guilt weighed heavily on me, and I leaned against Kodan’s sturdy body.

“What if he doesn’t?” I asked. I felt like a petulant child even as I said it.

“He will,” Kodan said. “I saw the way he looked at you. He’ll come back.”

22

W

e camped under the stars just outside the mountain pass. The bedroll was thin, and the frigid earth seemed to suck the heat from my bones. I longed to shift into my wolf form—at least I’d be warmer—but Kodan had cautioned against it. She still didn’t trust that I wouldn’t just run off with him, were we both wolves the next time we saw each other. Instead, we huddled on the same bedroll, backs pressed against each other in an effort to conserve body heat.

I slept fitfully, my wolf whining with the desire to seek out our mate, and my human self shivering from the cold. It was only the sheer exhaustion, from the journey and the emotional turmoil, that allowed me to rest at all.

At some point during the night, I slept deeply. At least for a few hours. It was a warm presence near me that allowed me to do so, familiar fur, slow breaths. I wasn’t sure if I dreamed it, since it was gone before I awoke.

At dawn I roused and stoked the fire, then heated water to make coffee. As I waited for the water to boil, I huddled closer to the fire and pulled my cloak around my shoulders. My skin prickled with the memory of that heat.