Hæra let go of Madeleine’s hand. That wasn’t the loss it might have been, because a narrow stone tunnel required her to stand close, her warm front pressed to Madeleine’s back. Close enough that Madeleine could feel the rise of her breasts.

In Madeleine’s dream, Hæra had declined to unbutton her shirt, as if even Madeleine’s subconscious couldn’t figure out what her breasts looked like. They wouldn’t be big. Maybe they were proportional to her frame, which was lean and muscular instead of curvy. They’d be as pale as the rest of Hæra’s skin, although now Madeleine knew that skin could flush too, turn pink and—presumably—warm.

There wasn’t enough air in this tunnel. Her lungs ached from trying to breathe. Everything ached. She hadn’t been this close to a woman since…since…

Return to me.

Madeleine bit her bottom lip and trembled. Since her angel had lain atop her, kissed her, and turned her life upside-down. Now she was practically plastered to a mortal woman who seemed determined to upend everything yet again.

They emerged from the tunnel back into the fresh air. Thank heavens for the breeze. It cooled her burning face.

“There it is! The real thing.” Hæra grabbed Madeleine’s hand again and tugged her toward the path that led to the settlement. “Hurry.”

Even through the magic of Hæra’s touch, Madeleine could think clearly enough to ask, “What’s the big rush?”

Hæra kept her eyes firmly forward. “Why shouldn’t we hurry? Don’t you want to see what’s ahead?”

Part of Madeleine would give anything to see what was ahead right now—the future and whatever it held. That wasn’t given to people, though. Goodness knew what rash or foolish decisions they’d make if they knew what was coming.

She held Hæra’s hand tighter.

It seemed her human shell had unexpected benefits. Even if Hæra were a Stormhorse, looking down at Skara Brae from the sky, she might never have known its history.

She definitely wouldn’t be here now, beholding her father’s work up close.

The storm had happened in 1850, when Alban was a young Stormhorse. His wings would have been part of the gale that blew the sand away and uncovered the settlement she was looking at. How could she ever have imagined she’d have the chance to see something like this?

Yet again, her human eyes stung with saltwater. She blinked, but that only made more of it. Her throat grew thick too.

Father, she thought, if only I could speak to you one more time. You’d have wisdom for me. You always did.