Page 126 of Reaper's Quest

Because he was here, and she was…

He wasn’t rightly sure. About any of it.

Where were these people he heard, suspected he knew, yet could not fully recall? And where was his physical body? His mind had clearly taken refuge in the protective center of his magic.

He scooped another handful of the old, familiar magic and tucked it farther within himself.

“Do you hear me, Winter?” she whispered down to him. “I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I’m going to save you. I swear it’s true.”

The female. He knew the female.

His heart thundered a rapid beat.

Felt something for the female. About the female. She wasn’t human, nor was she fae.

He raised his hand to the sky—to the place where her voice whispered from above—and sent a swirl of snow flurries flying up to her.

His white dominion grew colder, and the outskirts filled with a thick, impenetrable haze. Danger existed outside of his winter cocoon. He felt that truth in his gut. And so his magic thickened the walls, keeping him safe within the swirl of cold—wind and ice and snow.

Even as everything surrounding him dropped heavier into the magical chill, the sky above glowed with a purple warmth. Like a sun wrapped in plum velum bending down to kiss his ice-encrusted vault, turning the snowflakes and snow flurries to rain.

He called the winter sleet to him and thrust it upward, enforcing the protective barrier. Safety wasn’t probable beyond the borders of his magic core, and he needed to keephis sanctuary fortified. He couldn’t step outside, and he definitely couldn’t allow the outside to sweep in.

Heat continued to flow toward him, and he sent his magic forcibly upward time and time again, continually reinforcing the walls of his safe place. He pushed and pushed, siphoning scraps of magic to save within himself for later use. A last resort, should the outside find its way in.

The more magic he pressed into the barrier, the more heat shoved down upon him, slipping through melted cracks in his cocoon. Beams of ruby haze flickered and flashed across the snow-covered ground. And where the filtered light touched, grass began to peek through the slush.

Her consistent pressure wore him down. Melting his resolve—quite literally.

“Come back to us, Winter,” her voice rambled through the air. “Don’t let it end this way.”

She slowly burned away his magical reserves. Soon, no more would remain. He couldn’t allow her to take it all. He needed to save it, keep it unto himself.

Winter swept more magic from his surroundings—slush and snow, ice and wind, hail and clouds darker than night. He tucked them all deep within himself, storing them and keeping them safe. But the more he took to protect, the less he had to use as protection.

The cracks along the ice shield surrounding his tiny sanctuary widened. Then they shattered completely. Bits and chunks of ice crystals turned to water before they hit the ground.

Heat washed over him like a broken dam, rinsing away all hints of his frozen magic.

His pulse quickened, and his heart thrummed. His entirebody tingled with a warm, welcoming sensation that beckoned him back to a place of the living. A place where his physical self belonged. A place where…

Yes, he realized with a start.

A place where he wanted to be.

With his shield of ice shattered, he couldn’t recall why he had dithered or hesitated to break free of his magical haven.

Following the threads of warmth falling all around him like a ladder, he climbed out of his safe space and back into a world where life awaited. Life filled with pain and despair. But also hope and love—wondrous emotions and adventures waiting to be savored. He followed those heated connections all the way back to himself. His true, physical self.

He opened his eyes, slowly allowing the world to come into focus.

A small room, crowded with oak furniture.

He lay in one of the rooms above the pub. The female sat at his side and draped her upper body across his chest, her hair matted with sweat. The stunning stranger he’d found curiously intriguing. A dark sliver of night.

Raven.

He remembered her now—the one who had spoken to him, and the one with whom he’d joked and laughed and seen to her healing. The female he had safely hidden away at Camilla’s place.