Toward us.
A shiver raced up my back at the piercing cry he released, the shriek echoing through the quiet night air. Pressure clamped down on my spine, and before I could think to hesitate, my lion was free. My wings burst through the tattered t-shirt I had worn to bed. The roar that bellowed from my throat vibrated through my bones and danced across the deck around me.
I was strong. Powerful.
And I was determined to protect the people below.
The muscles of my legs bunched and I jumped into the air, rising to meet him. I bared my teeth in a snarl, rage spiking the adrenaline that pulsed through me. Open ocean passed under me and anticipation throttled my senses.
Several excruciatingly long seconds passed.
I slammed into the hawk, latching my teeth onto the back of his neck. The tang of metal filled my mouth, my wings flapping desperately against the weight of his body as it struggled with mine. He was massive, even for a bird, with a wingspan that rivaled my own. Talons raked my back and I released my death grip, swiping a paw to catch the eagle’s side. I scanned the air around me. The raven was nowhere to be seen.
Talons tore into my nose and jaw. Pain lashed up the side of my face. My teeth snapped at his limbs, narrowly missing as the eagle made a swipe for my throat. More blows fell along my back, my wings. I struggled to manage the large birds. The pure adrenaline initially surging through me was giving way, my body waning quickly with it. Too quickly. Fatigue settled into my bones.
The hawk released another screech and I lunged, snapping my jaws closed around his throat, shoving him back. Charcoal gray wings flapped into my peripheral. Caspar pulled the eagle away viciously, muscles straining as he yelled, “You’re welcome, tiny shifter.”
I growled my thanks even as sharp talons grazed my chest. My jaw loosened, only a fraction but it was enough. The hawk broke free. A clipped boom resounded from beneath us and I spared half a glance, watching as a small explosion rocked the trawler deck. They were going to sink us.
A string of names poured through my mind. My friends were in danger and I . . .
I wasn’t able to help them.
Fear bubbled up beside a flame of rage. Already, I was failing them. I was a shield riddled with holes.
This wouldn’t stand, exhaustion be damned.
I untangled myself from the hawk’s furious assault in time to see Caspar ram a dagger into the eagle’s chest, dragging the blade upward through feathers and skin. The bird fell from his grasp as another boom shook the boat below. I couldn’t afford to give the explosions much thought. Relentless in his pursuit, the hawk clawed and pecked at every free bit of skin he could find.
With a snarl, I rammed into him, almost costing us both altitude. He simply attacked back, striking with a vengeance, tearing at my face. Caspar vanished toward the ship. Whispers of shouts from the deck hit my ears, but I couldn’t shake this damned bird. I roared, furious, and made a dive for the ship—only to be met by the raven, his talons extended.
On the ground, two birds would have been nothing, even as tired as I was. But in the air I had to rely on my wings, on the force of a paw’s strike, on the grip of my jaw. I couldn’t pin them, couldn’t get a reliable hold, a fact of which they were fully aware.
Like I was also aware that, for whatever reason, they didn’t want me on that ship.
I snapped my wings straight. The sudden motion startled the birds off as I made to slide into another dive. Instantly, they were there—tearing at my face, my neck—and I was barely able to shield my throat from the assault. Lethargy tore at my muscles and regret seeped in alongside. Tarik had asked me to tell him if I was struggling and I hadn’t, and the cost . . .
If I shifted back, that was the end for me. Another rapid-shift was out of the question. I was no use to anyone right now, too tired, too far gone. My wings were failing. Each beat sent agonizing bursts of pain up my back.
The water could catch me if I fell, but this high up . . .
Air caught in my throat.
Jerking my head away from the birds, I sought Caspar. He was closer than the others but still a great distance away as he tried to end the rhythmic grenade fire from the boat across the way. The others seemed to be struggling with learning their wings, but they were trying. They would have it in a minute but . . . I didn’t have a minute.
A growl of frustration rumbled from my throat. The distraction cost me—a renewed assault of blows came. I could smell the iron tang of blood on my fur, the striking talons moving faster, nimbler, angry screeches and caws flooding my senses. My teeth gnashed, my claws striking for purchase . . .
Movement became harder. Tremors shook my tired muscles.
And then I fell.
Dark ocean rose toward me. My body lightened, the lion retreating, and then . . .
Silence.
—
“He has the crystal. All of this is nothing without him.”
My mind was slow, heavy with exhausted fog. Arms were wrapped tightly around my shoulders and legs, the huff of wingbeats consistent in the background. Airborne, then. My own wings were still out, the weight of them bulky, awkward, pulling me down. Only my wings, though, meaning I must have blacked out mid-shift.
Clipped chatter resumed and I focused, honing in on Sebastian’s voice.
“Two of us will go back. We need to find him.”
“She’ll never forgive us if we don’t let her help,” Caspar said. His voice rumbled through my side, his and Sebastian’s words registering more clearly now.
“Yes, well, Reagan is in no shape to have a say,” Sebastian growled. “You two can stay here. The rest of us will go look for him.”
“Look for who?” My words came out in a low croak, barely audible over the wingbeats.
“No one, tiny shifter. You should rest.”
I squirmed, tried to free myself, but Caspar’s grip was firm and my muscles refused to cooperate. Even if I had wanted to, shifting wasn’t an option. I scrunched my nose and pain shot across my cheeks. I brushed a hand over one and my shaking fingers came back coated in blood. I was still bleeding. I wasn’t healed. Their voices were a little too loud, like they were spaced out . . . like they were wingspans apart . . . and Caspar was holding me up. In the air.
I closed my eyes, took a long breath, let the pieces slide together.
Caspar was holding me up.
“Where is Tarik?” My eyes snapped open, lifted to the amber ones looking down at me. “Caspar . . .”
He turned his face away, toward Sebastian’s look of warning. The blond Fae sighed, running a palm across his forehead. “We don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” I snarled. Moving was a struggle but I begged my muscles to cooperate. Even my neck refused, trembling violently at my attempts to look around. Caspar tightened his grip. I paused long enough to level my tone, to cool the fear blossoming in my chest, before I asked, “Where’s Nevaeh?”
“Here, Reagan.” Her voice rang out from my left and I whipped my head toward the sound. Nevaeh relaxed in Akeno’s arms several feet away, bags strewn over his shoulders. “I grabbed your bag and your phone.”
I scanned her warily. Then relief shuddered through me—she was in one piece. Akeno’s heather gray wings were steady, strong. If he was struggling to hold them up, he didn’t show it. I closed my eyes long enough to take another slow breath. “I want to help,” I said finally.