by A. K. Koonce
My fingers tremble in his large grip. He’s gentler now than he has been this whole time as he pulls me back a few steps.
“You’re so fucking tiny. You’re going to need to run to launch yourself.” His gaze rakes over my frame skeptically, but I’m not a weakling. My wolf rumbles her agreement and lends me her strength, ready to show up the arrogant, sexy asshole next to me.
The challenge shores up my resolve as I narrow my eyes on him.
Smirking wickedly, he murmurs, “There she is.” Then he’s tugging on my hand, and I’m running next to him.
He doesn’t back down. He matches me step for step, and I love that he won’t let me do this alone.
I love that he cares despite how hard he doesn’t want to.
Snarls bounce around inside my head as my wolf’s power fills every fiber of my being. Aric’s dark chuckle is all I hear as my foot breaches the edge of the cliff. Muscles bunching, I kick off the edge and propel myself into the air with more strength than I’ve ever possessed.
Hand in hand we jump.
A scream claws at my throat, but I hold it back. I refuse to show a single sliver of fear.
Wind rips through my hair, and the chill of the mountain freezes the breath in my lungs as the crashing waves below become a steady rhythm to set my racing heartbeat to.
I spread my arms, still holding onto Aric, whose sole focus is on watching me. I feel his attention like fire across my features. The wind becomes a caress beneath my arms as I soar faster and faster. Adrenaline torpedoes inside of me. It builds all through my body in waves.
I’m falling. I’m flying.
I’m fucking free.
Chapter Seventeen
Sharing Air
Rhys
That feeling only lasts for a little while, then terror sets in as the emerald sea grows closer.
Aric’s hand tightens around mine, and we lock eyes through the strands of hair that whip wildly around my face. His gaze sears into mine as he urges me into a dive. Curving his arm around the bag that holds Loki, the large man cradles it to his chest and curls his shoulders, preparing for a much harder impact than I am.
My body tenses. Muscles coil as my eyes close tightly shut.
And then it slams into me.
A thousand tiny knives stab into every part of me when we hit. Rushing water steals all sound away, other than the stuttering panic of my heartbeat. I can’t breathe. Heavy pressure compresses my abdomen, forcing some of the air I’d gulped in before impact away.
And I lose Aric’s hold.
He reaches for me as the sea swallows him, drawing him down much faster than it takes me. In a blink and a terrified, watery scream, he’s gone.
I flail, my hands slicing through the water trying to find him even though I know he’s not there. A cry vibrates through my chest, costing me a little more air.
The glimmering light of the surface fades as I’m sucked down. Instead of becoming buoyant, my body sinks toward the bottom of the ocean like a lead weight.
But something’s wrong. Aric went straight through the gate or the portal or whatever barrier separates the realms.
But me? I’m still just floating here.
Alone. Alone. Alone.
Desolation is a feeling as dark as the depths that grow thicker all around me.
The shadows descend, and through the current, a large shark swims past with a powerful flick of its fin. A million fish ascend from the darkness to twirl around me, each dark body glinting with sharp silver scales that cut everywhere they brush against my flesh. Beady little eyes track me as I spin around, containing the scream that wants to steal the dwindling air remaining in my lungs.
Something cold and slimy slithers along my calf and wraps around my shin, tentacles suctioning to my body as it tightens like an anaconda squeezing its prey. Air bubbles containing the rest of my ration of oxygen flit to the surface along with the remainder of my hope.
The beast below me lets out a menacing, rumbling bellow, and my leg aches as it’s jerked down. Everything hurts. It feels like I’m being ripped apart, the burning in my lungs is simply the cherry on top of the torture sundae.
I wiggle and kick and bend to claw the monster off of me. Salt stings my eyes, but I catch a glimpse of a beastly creature.
Rough barnacle textures an enormous face that’s much too humanlike in appearance. A thick brow lines his features, but I can’t fully make out his eerie features. Spikes line the upper part of its many arms that reach out for me. Six rows of sharp teeth glint inside the open maw of the kraken that’s prepared to eat me like a snack.
Each tug brings me closer to my death.
Crimson blood floats like ink as I bleed into the sea. I lose my shit as I kick repeatedly at the tentacle holding me hostage.
No. Nope. I’m not going down like this.
My wolf lends me strength, and the next hit loosens the kraken’s hold enough that I gain back an inch, then two.
Rushing water is a distraction I can’t afford, but I turn anyway. Then duck the fuck out of the way as the shark angles his body, zooming through the water right for me.
Son of a bitch!
The tentacle latches onto me tighter than Spanx after a Thanksgiving meal, cutting off my blood supply like a tourniquet.
Slowly, so I can really see my death coming, the kraken pulls me toward its mouth.
My shoes just scrape along the first row of teeth when a pair of large hands clench around me. I fight against the sudden terrifying hold, but then I’m pulled up through the thick water.
I glance back to see Torben looking like some furious sea god. His long locks drift in the darkening sea. He’s beautiful.
And fucking terrifying when he’s furious.
Back and forth I’m wrenched like a tug-of-war pull toy until Torben thrusts out a hand just above my head. Magic twirls like a current. His fire dies on impact, but the water warms and warms until it’s sweltering, morphing the cold ocean around us into a bubbling hot tub. Light burns brightly inside Torben, turning him into a glow stick of hellfire that becomes a beam driving the creatures who live in the dark away from us. Screeching loudly, the tentacle loosens and then releases, leaving behind a wicked bruise.
That same power that lives inside me flares with gratitude as I turn in Torben’s arms and wrap my own around his narrow waist.
He seems shocked, suspended in the heated current as his magic subsides. Tentatively, his arms close around me in a hug that would be far more enjoyable if I could breathe in the scent of him… or breathe at all.
But I still feel protected in his strong arms.
His fingers trail up my back, tickle along my neck, and skim along my jaw until he’s cupping my face. Sea green eyes close slowly and a shiver races through my entire body as he comes closer. Bringing his mouth to mine, he covers my lips in a soft caress that grows steadily harder. His lips are softer than I expected, and so warm against the cold chill of mine. Torben forces them apart and breathes life into me.
I don’t understand how, but it fills my lungs and eases my anxious pulse.
It’s a small breath, but enough to keep me from passing out just yet. My heart tightens when he pulls away, leaving me shocked and bewildered that he cares enough to keep me alive.
It wasn’t a kiss. It wasn’t intimacy. It was just… magical air shared between a girl and fucking Aquaman.
Not a big deal at all.
For a man who fears nothing, there’s a healthy dose of apprehension in his expression when he pulls away, but it clears in an instant, making me question whether it had ever been there at all.
Mossy green eyes so dark they’re nearly black tell me all I need to know.
Hang the fuck on…
I cling to him as his powerful arms propel us downward. The ocean fights us, trying to claim Torben while rejecting me altogether, but he’s not leaving me behind.
I don’t have time to dwell on whether or not that’s a good thing. After experiencing the oc
ean from hell, what waits for me on the other side is a mystery I’m not sure I want to uncover.
But fuck it. I’m out of options, and I’m out of time.
Torben’s air is bleeding slowly from my lungs as black dots start to pepper my vision.
He struggles and kicks and swims against the tide, a force of nature in the body of a hellish god.
I’m on the verge of passing out when the sea finally yields. It claims me.
The current sweeps us up in a rollercoaster ride that makes me nauseous. Dips and curves make my stomach drop through my feet until we enter a swirling whirlpool, then it leaves me altogether.
Through it all, Torben doesn’t release me. One hand is a bar against my back, his fingers digging into my shoulder while the other crosses my back with his hand on my ass.
Wrapping my legs around him, I hold on, burying my face in his neck. I whimper as we swirl faster and faster until the bottom drops out.
I’m falling once again, this time headed straight for Hell itself.
Chapter Eighteen
The Realm of Hell
Rhys
Magic tears at my skin, threatening to rip away at the flesh. Then it stops. Only dry wind slides over every inch of my body, and then a hard impact slams through me. My head jars against Torben’s hard chest as he takes the brunt of the impact. My body whips back as the force knocks me off of his protecting body and into the dirt, hard enough to rattle my teeth. My fingers dig into dry, coarse strands as I come to a careening stop.
Grass.
White, dead grass sprouts around me, but a strange rush of water still roars in my ears.
I peer up to the intensity of the sound, only to find it isn’t water at all. It’s fire. A wide stream of lapping flames rushes only inches away from where my arm lies on a riverbank.
Two inches to be exact. I landed two inches away from a fiery death.
The heat of it sears over me, stealing away my breath and drying away the icy water that clings to my clothing and hair.
I roll away from the bizarre river and stare up at the crimson colored sky above.
“These realms are going to kill me.” I exhale defeatedly as my wolf surges to heal my numerous cuts and bruises.
“Well, they are meant for the dead,” Latham says logically from where he casually reclines against a boulder.
“Not far now.” Torben stands steadily, as if he didn’t just leap from a mountaintop, save my sorry ass, kiss me for totally logical reasons, then hit the ground like some kind of Great-Value brand god of thunder. He brushes off his drying jeans, and I realize he doesn’t have a single rugged hair out of place. His beard is immaculate, and I’m starting to question if beard magic is his real hidden talent.
“What are you looking at?” he asks gruffly when he catches me staring at how the firelight glints off of his perfectly coiffed strands of facial hair. It’s like the gods themselves blessed his face.
Don’t say his beard. Don’t say his beard. Don’t say—
“Your beard is so pretty,” I say before I can think better of it.
A line creases his brow, and a snicker of laughter shakes through Aric. Latham’s quiet smile shines in his eyes. Torben gives me nothing more than a grunt.
“I think the lack of oxygen has fucked with your head,” Torben grumbles like he didn’t just try to save me with his kiss of life. “If there are no more compliments you have to get off your chest, we’ll keep moving,” Torben finally tells me, barely giving me time to breathe before forcing us onward.
I swallow hard and try not to roll my eyes at him as well as my own stupidity.
Latham offers me his hand, and I slide my fingers against his palm as he lifts me to my feet. Aric peers around at the open expanse of dry grassy plains.
“Home sweet home,” the dragon shifter says quietly.
At the sound of Aric's deep timbre, a meow rumbles out of the bag in his hand and pure fire leaps right out. In a blaze, my small house cat shifts into enormous translucent flames that sketch his delicate features against the landscape.
I blink at Loki. He purrs happily as he soaks in the heat of this hellish realm.
“This is Hell?” I look up at Aric as we trail after Torben’s enormous steps.
“This is the entrance to Helheim, technically. It’ll lead us to what’s more commonly thought of as Hell.” Latham picks something from my hair before flicking a soggy strand of seaweed to the ground.
I try to find some normalcy in what we’re doing. I’m on a journey into Hell. That should be unsettling.
“Think of it like the suburbs.” Aric smirks, clearly having picked up on my aversion to the ‘burbs.
It settles in a scurry of nerves under my skin that I’m now officially in Hell. Okay… Hell adjacent.
Worst of all, my mother has been here for years.
“My mother, is she dead?” I ask quietly, my stomach dipping at the thought of it.
Latham tilts his head to look at me from the corner of his eye.
“No. The inhabitants of these realms are one of several things—newcomers, those who pass on to the afterlife, gods like Torben, creatures born here like Aric, or the offspring of gods, like myself.”
“What category does my mother fall into?” And what category do I fall into for that matter?
Latham shakes his head, his inky locks fanning across his eyes as he scans our surroundings.
“I don’t know. I’d never met your mother until the day I left here with orders to retrieve you.”
It occurs to me then that Latham is the informed one of the bunch. And even he isn’t well informed about me…
What kind of twisted secrets was my mother hiding?
A wave of heat washes through the air, and I barely collide into Aric to avoid the splashing of the river. The breath in my lungs shudders, and I try hard to focus on the information I’ve just been given.
My mother is an inhabitant of Hell. Possibly a goddess, more likely a creature. A reckless wolf like me perhaps…
“If Torben is a god, why is he in Hell?”
Aric chuckles as he wipes a hand down his face to stop the sweat that’s beading against his forehead.
“It’s not like the fairy tales of gods or goddesses that you’re familiar with.” Aric slides his attention to me, and his humor seems distracted as his gaze travels from my eyes to my lips… to the sweat soaked shirt that’s now clinging to my breasts. “Gods aren’t always good. Even the good ones aren’t very good,” he whispers with a shake of his head. “The bad guys don’t walk around with pitchforks and pointed tails. Hell is ruled by gods, and just like in real life, it’s impossible to see which ones are the good guys and which ones are the bad.”
That information is a bit harder to process. Because it means my mother might belong in Hell for a reason. She might be evil…
But Latham’s from Hell and he isn’t evil.
And Aric… well… maybe I should just stick to the example of Latham for now.
A single deserted tree stands tall up ahead. It’s the first one I’ve seen, and it splays out against the red horizon like a skeleton greeting us with open arms. Not a single leaf adorns the white limbs that line the trunk like the shattered lines of a cracked window. It feels ominous in a simplistic way.
It’s just a tree.
Nothing more.
A cawing strikes through the quiet and I leap at the sound of it. My shoulder jostles into Latham’s, and his warm hand instantly covers mine.
“It’s just a hell hawk,” he tells me.
I squint at the blushing sky to see a creature resting on the lowest bony limb of the tree. Its inky feathers are sleek and natural, but the blood-red eyes looking back at me are not.
It’s just a hell hawk. Totally normal.
I can'’t even make eye contact with the thing.
We carry on, following the path of the riverside, but it unnerves me to walk beneath the clawing branches of the dead tree. Those hellacious eyes burn ag
ainst my face as I walk as casually as possible beneath the creature.
“Hate birds,” Aric murmurs.
“I thought dragons hated mice.” Latham looks up at the demonic thing, and he’s the only one who has the balls to make eye contact.
“Dragons hate all the darting little beasts. Too fast to track and nefarious as hell. Fucking monsters is what they are.” He shakes his head hard, and I note how much he’s slumped down at his shoulders as we slip under the watchful red eyes following us.
A loud squawking shrieks out at us. It sounds like the sky is falling and a hailstorm of satanic birds are raining down on us. Aric snatches my hand in his and drags me away. His boot catches on a twisting tree root. He staggers and takes me down with him, and we land in a cloud of dust with my legs sprawled between his. My fingers dig into his shirt as he sits up, lifting me against him to see the destruction that must have happened.
Except… only uncontrollable laughter echoes in the wake of the chaos.
Latham still stands just a foot away from the bird. His smile is so broad a sweet dimple peeks out against his cheek as an unfiltered chuckle rumbles out of him while we lay sprawled in a tangle of limbs in the dirt.
A big hand wraps around mine, and I’m once again being rescued by the scowling face of a sexy giant.
Torben pulls me away from Aric and nods for me to walk forward.
“Come on,” he tells me. “I’ll protect you from the scary sounds of nature from here on out.”
A smile tilts my lips, and I walk away in sync with Torben’s quick, enormous steps.
“The damn thing was going to peck our eyes out!” Aric hollers after his friend, but Torben just rolls his eyes as he keeps going. “Would have vomited them back up and fed them to her demon bird babies too,” Aric adds, and at that, the smallest smirk pulls at the corner of Torben’s full lips.
My heart startles awake at the hint of amusement that’s shining in the serious man’s mossy green eyes. His personality mirrors his eyes so well—he’s jaded.
And I bet he’ll never tell a living soul why. Or maybe he’s just like me and he doesn’t understand why himself.