This time, I didn’t follow. Despite what Cady thought, I did know my own limitations. Specifically, I knew that I couldn’t make that climb. I hadn’t grown up on a mountain.

I hadn’t had to fight for survival here.

Listening for any indication that Gabriel was on the verge of returning, I heard nothing but a hollow echo and the distant sound of running water. I cocked my head to the side, closing my eyes and absorbing the sound.

When I opened my eyes again, they landed on the flashlight. The human part of my brain said that taking it would be wrong. Girl—buried deep in the recesses of my mind—said that Gabriel had left it.

You had to protect what was yours.

Kneeling down, I closed my fingers around the flashlight. I hesitated only a moment before I stood and did a 360, taking in my surroundings. I could feel the otherness of this place. Even with the light from the flashlight illuminating the space around me, my senses stayed on high alert. Unsure what I was doing—or why—I found myself moving toward the sound of the running water.

Drink. Girl thirsty—

I shook off the memory. I wasn’t dying of thirst. I just needed to know where I was, what this place was. The farther I went toward the sound of the water, the colder it got. I rounded another bend, the din of rushing water building. I’d expected a stream or possibly a continuation of the river we’d seen before. What I found wasn’t just water.

It was a waterfall.

The river rushed over the edge into a straight drop, crashing into razor-sharp rocks twenty feet below. I lost track of how long I stood there, watching the water descend into darkness, listening to its deafening roar.

Rumbling. Shaking. At first, I thought the jolt to my bones was nothing more than the power of the falls taking hold, but as my balance gave way, I realized that something was wrong.

The mountain was moving.

The tremor only lasted for a moment, but this close to the waterfall’s edge, I had to scramble for purchase. I backed away from the roar of the water, from the drop. A hand closed over my bicep.

Gabriel. I sensed him—smelled him—before I turned to face him head-on. His hold steadied me. A fraction of a second later, he dropped my arm, pulling his hand back like the act of touching me had burned him.

I wondered if he was thinking about the way I’d reacted the last time he’d grabbed me.

“Earthquake,” Gabriel commented casually. “You know, that thing where the ground shakes for a brief period of time, during which it is typically considered not good to be inside a mountain.”