I scanned the canopy and sky above. “I suppose we wait.”
Adrianna invaded my space by leaning in close. “Serena, do me a favor?”
Wariness stole over me, but I nodded anyway.
She whispered, “Don’t let your attraction to him cloud your judgment.”
I sighed through my nose, exasperated. “Adi, I got this.”
She continued regardless. “I just want you to keep your eyes and ears open. This quest won’t be easy.”
You think? Smothering that sarcasm, I said, “Just worry about your phoenix feather. I’ve gone through worse in the last couple of months than picking a poisonous plant.”
Her navy wings rustled, and she rolled her weight to her other hip. Crap. I sensed a lecture coming. Sure enough … “Don’t underestimate the Attia Forest. All manner of horrors call it home.”
Mother give me strength. “Adi, I said it to make you feel better. I’m petrified,” I said flatly.
She mouthed, “oh.” The next second, she was tilting her head upward, her braid swinging at her back. She’d heard something.
“Is it Wilder?”
“There are wingbeats.”
Adrianna plucked an arrow from her quiver and strung it to her bow. I melted to her side, pulling my sword out a hair. Seconds clunked by. The only sound was birdsong coming in lulls and bursts and improvised melodies.
Adrianna jerked her chin to the right. “There.”
She stowed her bow and arrow as my head craned up to the tangled canopy.
Wilder.
Wilder.
Something eased in my chest. Instead of floating down, he froze and perched atop a thick bough. A watchful eagle.
His head lifted, nose in the air. All the saliva in my mouth dried at the sight; that movement usually meant a fae was tracking a scent. After a minute of this, he floated to a lower branch, and then another, and another, until he took one giant leap and landed in a crouched position. He rolled up in one sleek move. I had to resist the urge to stare.
He still wore his black leathers and knee-high boots, but there were several new additions. Two silver vambraces, and lightweight pauldrons that were molded to resemble bird feathers, which now covered his shoulders. Straps crossed his chest; a bag designed for a fae nestled between his wings, I assumed. The belt at his waist held a dagger and a long, wicked blade. He also wore an ankle-length cloak with wing grooves, which he now untied at the clasp and tugged off.
Adrianna paced forward, talking fast. “I could come with you. I’d only need to grab my things, and—”
“I’m faster than you, faeling. You’d never keep up.”
I always forgot how his voice shifted among his own kind. Deeper, stronger. Wilder’s fir-colored wings unfurled again.
Adrianna shot me a desperate glance. There was nothing to be done now but say, “I’ll be okay. Take care of yourself, Adi.”
She actually looked worried. Wilder didn’t stop to reassure her. He made straight for me and wrapped me in the inky pool that’d been his cloak.
With a slight bend in his knees, I blinked, and we exploded upward. Quickly, I shouted a startled and breathless, “Bye,” to the ground. There was no response, but my human ears might not have picked it up. We’d already burst through the canopy. He was so rutting fast that my knees clenched together instinctively. The muscles in my arms had started to spasm from holding on so tight. A rough laugh rumbled in Wilder’s chest. “What’s wrong? You’ve flown before.”
“Not like this. I just left my stomach on the ground.” I struggled to hear myself above the roaring wind currents streamlining us, but figured Wilder wouldn’t have any problems.
A sudden tremor in his chest made me squint up at him. His expression … “Are you purring?” I shouted a bit.
A fierce grin. “I’d call it more of a humming.” He kept his eyes on our flight path, but dipped his mouth to my ear to explain. “When a fae is truly happy, their chest vibrates.”
On my first night in Aldar, Hunter had hummed. I’d assumed he’d done it to help me sleep. He’d just been happy. Very happy. Still, it changed nothing. I couldn’t feel pity or forgive him; not when Cassandra’s face still haunted me.
Wilder nuzzled my ear slightly. Distracting and toe-curling. “What is it?”
Not wanting to talk about Hunter, I dared to point something out instead. “We’re about to go extract a poison that could kill us instantly. And you’re happy?”
His head pulled back, enough for me to see the wide smile there. “I’m flying, which I don’t get to do as often as I’d like. And I have you in my arms. I think I’m entitled to purr.”
The wind provided a cooling blanket to my flushed face. Adrianna’s warning resonated once but not again. Because our bodies were close. Much too close. There was no running from the strong arms that held me, nor the intimacy that came with sharing breath. It didn’t help that with every mighty flap of his wings, his body was producing more and more heat. Any lingering reservations melted away as that delicious warmth seeped into my muscles, my core, igniting me. I grasped for something, someone, who could pull me back from losing myself in him—to him. Auntie?
Silence answered. So my mind stilled and my body took charge. My head dropped onto his shoulder, and I buried myself in his neck and shut my eyes. I couldn’t bear to look at the ground; I might’ve been used to flying by now, but I was having trouble adjusting to his speed. My stomach dove and rolled again as we dipped. As if reading my mind, Wilder lowered his chin to the top of my head and asked, “Want me to go slower?”
I considered. “How long will it take for you to get there at this rate?”
“We’ll get there tomorrow, but it won’t hurt to slow a little.”
His speed eased a touch, but I hardly noticed. “You’re that fast?” My head lifted to find shining amusement. “Adi said it’d take her two to three days.”
He nodded distantly. “Well, I’m older than Adrianna. It takes time to build wing strength and endurance; they only stop developing after our hundredth year.”
No arrogance, just confidence. Spoken with the gravity of a fae who’d seen countless seasons and changes. It was intimidating as all hell.
“Exactly how old are you?”
I heard an amused rumble in Wilder’s throat. “I stopped counting after the second—”
He was interrupted by a sudden headwind. Wilder tilted and dove; I opened my mouth to scream but the wind killed it. With the air stolen from my lungs, I struggled to breathe. Seconds of heart-racing, breakfast-losing free fall followed. That only ended when Wilder’s wings opened with a mighty whoosh. Mercifully, we leveled out quickly, but as we skimmed across the forest canopy, I blinked rapidly through the shock, staring up at him like a doe blinded by the sun.
He caught me staring and gave me the once over. “Don’t worry. You’ll adjust.” Laughter in his eyes, he told me, “Before faelings can fly, we take them up and introduce them to the sky by doing complex maneuvers. Spins and flips. You might get used to the speed if I recreated—”
“Don’t you dare, Wilder … Wait, what’s your kin’s name?”
His brows came together. “Why?”
A wary question. I couldn’t imagine why. It was such a small thing to ask. “Because when my friend Viola used to scold me, she’d always use my full name to do it. That way, I knew she meant business.”
A strange, sweet smile smoothed out his matching cheek scars. “She sounds like my makena.”
As my thoughts whirled around Viola, I tried to ignore the flowering ache in my chest. I just added quietly, “Then, your mother must be wonderful.”
Wilder’s eyes lightened at that. “Her kin name is Thorn, as is mine.”
“You took your mother’s name?” I voiced, interested.
“My father wasn’t worthy.” A flat, frozen voice; his expression hardened to slate. Clearly not inviting more questions.