I readjust my grip on Fenryr as a surge of air jolts my body to the side, so suddenly it nearly causes the limp body to slip from my fingers. My claws pierce his skin, latching onto the unconscious demon as I straighten out, angling my body back in the direction of the breeze.

Fenryr passed out two hours into the flight, and it has made navigation far more difficult. Though I am amazed at how long he was able to remain conscious in his grim state. I suppose it just goes to show how powerful of an influence the mate bond holds. How it can push the weakest of bodies onward—to fight, to protect, to claim.

I should know. It’s what kept me going in Kaebl’s dungeons after all.

A frown pinches my brow as I shake away those memories, needing to clear my mind and focus on the task at hand. If I’m not careful, I’ll miss it entirely, and all of this will be for nothing.

My flight muscles are seizing by the time I spot the clearing in the endless stretch of welwig forest. I tip my wings downward, my grip tightening around Fenryr as we shoot to the ground, the wind and ice whipping against my skin, freezing the tears of agony leaking from my eyes. I attempt to slow our descent just before we crash, but all my weakened muscles can manage is a pitiful flapping motion before Fenryr and I smack into the unforgiving ice.

I look at the skies, my eyes widening at the sight of Dagny floating to the ground, her face pinched and sweat dripping from her brow despite the effortless way she lowers herself and Kaebl to the ice. As soon as his body touches down, Dagny steps back, her face raised to the heavens as she sucks down heaving lungfuls of air, showing a hint of her fatigue for the first time since we began our journey.

I lie there for a few moments, knowing I should get up but bound in place by the stunning creature before me. Even though we just finished a four-hour flight through a raging blizzard, fearful and fleeing for our lives, Dagny seems calm—standing tall and proud just like the true goddess she is. The tips of her feathered wings rattle in the breeze, each barb encased in frost, glinting in the sunlight like millions of tiny diamonds. Her eyes shine with the same brilliant silver I witnessed in Slaine’s dungeon. The same energy that had the power to turn a castle to dust.

Magic. Pure and raw and unyielding. It lives in her, is drawn to her just as I am. And if she doesn’t learn how to control it very, very soon, it will destroy her.

“Look out beloooooooow!”