There was a long pause. “If I could be there with you, I would. A father should be with his son at such times.” He swallowed audibly. “Lad,” he said softly, “Give my love to Drustan and Gwen, but know you carry the bulk of it with you.” Another pause. “I ken a da shouldn’t have favorites, but—och, Dageus, my son, you were always mine.”

When, a few moments later, Dageus returned to the center slab and began to etch the final symbols, he noticed Chloe staring at him strangely. Her eyes got misty again and her lower lip quivered a bit.

He didn’t understand until she pulled his head down to hers and kissed the tear from his cheek.

Then, as the white bridge opened, she flung herself into his arms, clasped her hands behind his neck and kissed him passionately. He pulled her legs around his waist and held her tightly. It became a battle of wills for him then: It was him against the devastating, shifting, dimensional storm. He felt as if—if he could only make it through the chaos of the white bridge without losing hold of her—he could make it through anything.

He held onto her for all he was worth.

“Oomph!” Chloe gasped as they hit the icy ground, still in each other’s arms. A fierce little smile curved her lips—they’d made it without letting go of each other! She didn’t know why it seemed so important to her, but it did, as if it somehow proved that nothing could ever tear them apart.

A low growl, a rough rumble more animal than human, was the only sound Dageus made as he rolled her beneath him and slanted his mouth hard over hers. His body was rock-hard against the softness of hers, his hips grinding into the cradle of her thighs, and in a heartbeat she was breathless with lust. The man had only to look at her to make her feel weak with desire, but when the hot, thick hardness of him rode between her legs, she became mindless with need. Every single time, her mouth went dry, and she felt shaky from head to toe, anticipating all those delicious things he would do to her. All those ways of touching and tasting, all those very specific demands he made of her that she so loved filling.

She yielded, greedily taking all of him, locking her arms around his strong neck, burying her fingers in his wet hair. They rolled and tumbled across the hail-covered ground as the rain poured down and the wind shrieked deafeningly, numb to all around them but the searing intensity of their passion.