He bites his lip. Then, for a split second, my heart jumps because I think his eyes flicker into a wolf’s, but it must be a trick of the light, an illusion of shadows created by the rain, because a second later, he’s gazing back at me normally.
His hand reaches for my cheek, and my head tilts automatically to lean into his palm. “You did it.”
“I’m a badass,” I tell him shakily as I nod in shock.
“Shifter strength isn’t so bad, huh?” he asks, a knowing grin erupting.
“That was…holy shit, that was crazy.”
“It’s like base jumping inside your head,” he comments.
“Perfect fucking description. Except now, I don’t think I can walk. Pretty sure my leg bones were replaced with marshmallows.”
“Well, then…” The sheriff’s eyes sparkle with delight as his hand moves from my cheek to my shoulder. “I might be able to help with that.” And then, he lifts me up into his arms bridal style, and I suck in a startled gasp.
He turns, ready to carry me up the mountain, but a roar rends the sky apart. I look up the ridge only to see the tumultuous clouds blotted out by tumbling shadows. Terror seizes my entire body as a second wave of the landslide bursts over the cliff above us.
Ellery’s arms wrap tighter around me in an instant, and he’s running, dodging around the van, heading down the hill at an angle as a new stream of mud begins to crash down the mountain in the same path the prior slide took. I’m pressed hard against his shoulder, his body and mine slapping together with every step he takes.
Behind his shoulder, I can see huge rocks raining down like stone hail. Inhumanly fast, Ellery veers farther away, getting us clear of their falling path—or we would be clear…
A large boulder splits in two with a loud crack.
One half goes careening down the mountain with the other stones. But the second half shoots straight for us.
“Ellery!” I shout as the huge rock arcs at the perfect angle, hurtling like a cannonball through the spray of mud and shower of pebbles.
He drops me and shoves me against the blackened trunk of a sole pine that seems to be standing sentinel in the melee. The world switches to slow motion. Lightning glows inside the clouds in the distance. Rain pummels the earth so hard that it leaves tiny divots. The huge chunk of rock casts a shadow over us, marking me and Ellery for pain and death.
He spins, giving me his back and lifts his arms, muscles coiled, bright blue eyes aglow with determination. The side of his face becomes chiseled and contoured by the shadow of the clouds. His hair is a wet curl plastered across his forehead as he looks up and tracks the careening boulder.
What is he doing? Is he making sure it hits him first?
“Ellery, no!” I scream as I reach for him, grabbing at his shirt, wrapping my arms around his torso, and attempting to pull him back toward me. I’m not rational. I know we can’t get away quick enough, that the tree can’t protect us even though I want to pull us both behind it. Buttons snap off his shirt as I pull, but it makes no difference, I’m not quick enough, and he doesn’t move.
The rock smashes into his outstretched hands, and I can hear the impact, feel it resonate through his body and into mine. My scream is silenced when we’re abruptly shoved back by the force of the hit, my body molding to his as his knees bend in an effort to absorb as much of the shock of the collision as he can. Black lines surface along his veins—and for the first time, their appearance causes relief instead of trepidation.
Somehow—impossibly—we don’t break. The rock doesn’t shatter our limbs, crush our bones, or pummel us into nothing. With a wild, low-pitched, ferocious growl, Ellery redirects the boulder away from us like he’s playing volleyball with Mother Nature. The thing is the size of his torso, but he launches it like it’s nothing more than a basketball. It sails away and I hear it smack into the earth, though I don’t turn to watch where it lands.
Instead, my eyes are glued to Ellery Arcan as I scamper around to face him in the mud. Black veins crawl over his skin, and glowing blue eyes glare at the mountain as though daring it to challenge him. His muscles are taut, his stance ready for any and every threat as a deep growl of warning spills out of his lips.
I stare at him, unsure if there’s a term or even a word to describe the primal power and pure ability radiating off of Ellery right now. It calls to me in a way I don’t understand, and I’m not sure if I want to fight or face it head-on. Maybe…I want both.
22
NOAH
I blink up at my ceiling fan, my body boneless and utterly comfortable, with the exception of my stomach. It’s the middle of the night, moonlight beaming through the window at my side. But I’m as hungry as if I hadn’t eaten in days instead of the handful of hours it’s been since the guys plied me with a banquet at dinner.
Apparently, superheroing is draining fucking work.
Forcing myself to sit up in bed before I start gnawing my pillow, I glance around the guest room at the Arcan den’s palatial mountain home. It’s a different room than the one I woke up in next to Ruger and Perth. The walls in here are a pale jade-green color that I love, and the furniture is a white wicker set. It’s got a feminine vibe that’s a little different from the rest of the house and yet somehow fits in perfectly.
It also happens to be the closest room to the stairs, and the bed was the easiest to fall face first into from sheer exhaustion. Ellery brought me to their place after the road washed out. I’d been so exhausted by our rescue that he’d had to carry me up the front steps. Then he, Ruger, and Perth fed me until I was able to make it to my feet long enough to stumble through a quick tour and then promptly pass out.
I climb out of bed and stretch. As I pull my arms overhead, I smell the guys on the furniture as if they recently touched it, or possibly moved it. It makes me wonder if they set up this room just for me. I’m not a decorating expert, but I’d have picked everything in here if given the chance. At the thought of them selecting things and moving them in, a small smile dances across my mouth instead of the panic I might have felt earlier.
What a difference a day can make.
My stomach growls and grumbles, the sound an obvious threat. It’s about to rebel. I give in to its demands and slip out my door, tiptoeing down the hallway. I cringe when a wooden board squeaks underneath my feet. The house is quiet, painted with the dark blue and purple shadows of night. All the other doors on the second floor are closed, and I assume the den is fast asleep behind them.
Another angry grumble rolls through my abdomen and up through my chest, my stomach voicing its displeasure at how slow I’m moving.
Down, girl. Geez.