Every minute that passed, every raindrop that fell on Nikhail’s skin was a death knell. He needed to get to River, but the neighborhood wasn’t built to accommodate a dragon of Therian’s size.
It felt like an eternity had passed before the shifter found a safe spot to land. Water splashed as the dragon’s talons dug into the asphalt of what should’ve been a busy street.
Now, abandoned cars littered the road.
The storm was a living, breathing beast. Screams and shouts of alarm lingered. Lightning streaked across the sky, and thunder roared in response a heartbeat later.
Time was running out.
Nikhail released his hold on the dragon’s back and slid down the soaked scales. Water reached his knees as he landed, and he shuddered at the cold sensation.
He turned. Therian was watching him out of the dragon’s eyes.
“Thank you,” Nikhail said.
The dragon chuffed, dipping his head.
Gripping the soaked handles of his backpack, Nikhail half ran, half waded through the water-logged streets. His phone was buzzing in his pocket, but he ignored the vibrations.
Nothingwas more important than this.
He raced towards where he’d last seen River. Turning the corner, he spotted a familiar convertible pulled over on the side of the road a few hundred feet away. The engine was still running, the door was open, and nearby…
“No!”
Nikhail’s anguished roar boomed, and the wind carried it back to his ears. An echo of the pain he felt inside. His chest constricted painfully, and the fae part of him contorted, his soul in agony at the silhouette outlined before him.
This was wrong. It couldn’t happen.
Not now.
Not when they hadn’t had the chance to fully explore what they were. What they could be.
Not ever. Not while his lungs still drew breath and his heart still beat.
He needed her.
“River!” Her name, a prayer and a desperate plea, ripped from the very center of his being. “Stop!”
She didn’t react. Didn’t seem to realize that she was in danger, that death was pounding on the door, desperate to claim her.
Nikhail called her name, but she didn’t react or seem to hear him at all.
She was lost to the storm. The realization settled like a stone in Nikhail’s stomach, and he nearly stumbled.
River was so close, yet so fucking far away.
The storm picked up. Raging winds blew. Water crashed all around him.
Nikhail ran, his magic pushing out of him as he drew near. For every gust of wind he soothed, trying to calm the storm, more water poured from the sky. It came harder and harder until he could barely see through the sheets of rain.
No, no,no.
If the storm overcame River completely, if she released the last vestiges of control over to her magic, there was a chance she’d never recover. Fae could push themselves too far and fall into their magic, never to resurface. She’d become a shell of the person she was, burn herself and her magic out, until she was nothing but a husk.
That couldn’t happen.
Nikhail’s breath came in short bursts as he reached River, dropping to his knees in front of her.