“Loki!”
“What the fuck!?”
Morgan ignored the others and raced after the beast, watching his tail swish back and forth as he romped between everyone’s legs like a hyper puppy. He reminded her of a baby dragon, but his jaw was squarer, he had a hide instead of scales, and lacked horns. His tiny wings weren’t large enough to carry him, but they did flare out for balance when he scrambled for purchase against the floor.
As she blindly followed, edging through the crowd, she noticed that no one else paid any attention to the little beast.
They can’t see him.
Morgan almost caught up with the pest when he skidded across the stone floor on a sharp turn and sprinted straight through a stone arch she hadn’t noticed even a second ago. When she charged through the doorway, magic splashed against her, revealing the spell keeping the passageway hidden.
Clever.
That’s when Morgan realized where Loki was going…to find Atlas.
Her magic hadn’t vanished, it had awakened the mutt from whatever stasis that had been holding him.
“Son of a bitch.” Kincade curled his hands into fists as he watched Morgan flit through the crowd, chasing after the gardog she just called Loki—a creature that was supposed to exist only in legends. Heart thudding against his ribs, he charged after her, not about to let her out of his sight.
He’d come too close to losing her too many times, spent too many nights dreaming about her…nightmares showing him how easily he could lose her if he didn’t find a way to curb her impulsive nature, but nothing he did could restrain her natural wildness.
Trying to control her only made her more reckless, and left him on the outside, helpless to protect her. He shoved at a kid who crossed into his path and blocked his view of Morgan for a few seconds.
Panic sent his pulse thundering in his ears.
He was no longer willing to keep his distance, not if it meant losing her.
He lost everything once and barely survived.
Losing her would destroy him.
She attracted danger—hell, she practically threw herself into it. He wanted to ask her to stop hunting, but she was so good, it was like it was bred into her blood and bones—hell, her very nature. But only one thing stopped him…she would never forgive him.
If she lived, even a day longer, he wouldn’t give a fuck if she remained pissed at him, but her bloodlines meant she would always be in danger.
He’d finally decided the only thing he could do was make sure she was prepared, even if it meant she ended up hating him in the process.
But the more time he spent with her, the harder it was to keep his hands to himself. Distance didn’t help either. He tried concealing his emotions, but his plan failed spectacularly. The little minx had found a way to block their connection. He woke up in a cold sweat when their connection disappeared from his mind.
Every day she pulled farther and farther away.
Every day it felt like she was gutting him.
He knew he would eventually die protecting her, and he would give his life gladly.
What he couldn’t live with was her risking her life without him there to guard her back.
He shook his head ruefully at his own folly.
Not only did his plan backfire, it ended up putting her in even more danger.
In this realm she needed their protection more than ever, and she didn’t even know it.
Even imagining the dangers she’d encountered without him nearly sent him to his knees.
And she no longer trusted him—the connection between them was all but shattered by his stupid-ass decisions.
Worse, he didn’t know how to fix it.
To hell with distance.
It wasn’t working.
No, now that they were stranded in the primordial realm, he had no intention of leaving her side. He had no problem chaining her to him if that’s what it took. Determination solidified in him, and he began to close the distance between them.
When she ran full speed into a wall, his lungs seized, and it took his brain a few seconds to comprehend that, instead of hurting herself, she had disappeared right through the stone.
Kincade didn’t hesitate, running full tilt after her.
Morgan slowed as she entered a dim, dingy passageway, wondering if she’d stepped into a different world. The main area was at least maintained…but not this section of the building. It was as if they couldn’t spare the magic for the castle’s upkeep.
Thanks to her enhanced senses, she didn’t need light to see in the dim, stifling corridor. Apparently, neither did Loki. He practically shimmered, the flame on his chest seeming to come alive. He zipped down the hall, dashing up the walls as if gravity didn’t apply to him, using his wings to glide through the air for a few seconds.
“Morgan.” Kincade’s husky growl caused her insides to tighten and her heart to go all mushy. She hadn’t heard him speak like that in a very long time, and her heart gave a betraying leap of hope.
Afraid the guys would try to stop her, Morgan increased her speed through the twists and turns of the tunnels, swearing under her breath when they easily kept pace.
“What the hell is that?” Draven asked.
“The myths call them gardogs.”
Morgan slowed her pace when she heard Kincade speak, and she realized he didn’t intend to stop her. She expected a long lecture about the dangers of running off on her own, and a twinge of guilt made her wince, because she knew he was right.
“They are said to appear in times of great danger, and can only be awakened by those they deem worthy. They are literally guard dogs to their masters. They’re fierce, never show any fear. When they get bigger, they can be unstoppable killing machines.”
Kincade’s voice was almost conversational, not barking out orders as he had been over the past few weeks, and she found herself slowing her pace even more so she could listen to his wonderful, resonant voice. A wispy smell of warm stone curled around her, a telltale sign that he was deliciously close. It was hard not to reach back and touch him, make sure he was real and not a figment of her dreams come back to haunt her.
The further they traveled under the castle, the danker the passageway became. The darkness became more invasive, trickles of slimy water and moss trailed down the walls, while the saturated air sat heavily in her lungs. Large, broken stones lay abandoned in their path from where they’d crumbled from the ceiling and walls, everything so degraded she half expected the building to come down around them, and she was grateful to have the men at her back in case she fell through the floor.
She slowed, wanting to prolong the peace between them, when the hair on the back of her neck rose.
They were no longer alone.
She searched for the threat, when she heard a cat give a ferocious hiss and snarl. “Watch where you’re going, you clumsy oaf.”
Morgan glanced down, gaping in shock to see a mangy-looking tomcat…speaking to her? The creature sat on his haunches, running his tail through his paws as he inspected it for damages.
“You almost tromped all over me.” He glared up at her with yellow, feral eyes, his face slightly flattened. His orange striped fur was ruffled and standing slightly on edge, but that wasn’t what held her mute. No, that would be the wings that flickered against his back in agitation. Not-so-dainty claws snicked out of his paws, and he pointed one at her. “You’re lucky I don’t take a chunk out of you.”
A flash of movement out of the corner of her eyes caught her attention, and Morgan turned to see Loki charging down the hall, his tiny fangs bared in challenge, a tiny growl rumbling from his chest.
“Loki, no!”