“That’s understandable. And that’s why I’m afraid Kirian will regret this.”
“Listen, Kirian and I aren’t the same person. Living in darkness doesn’t bother him the way it does me. If he says he chooses you, then he means it.”
That does make me feel a little better. “Thanks. I needed to hear tha—”
“Shh.” He cuts me off, coming to a halt.
The caravan keeps moving ahead, but Kai’s horse knickers behind us as he stomps an impatient hoof.
“What?” I ask quietly.
“I smell something burning.” Inhaling deeply, Damon wrinkles his nose. “Does anyone else smell that? Something’s wrong—”
He’s barely finished the warning when a loud pop comes from inside the carriage. There’s a flash of light, then all of the sudden, the entire thing is engulfed in flames.
I don’t even have time to scream.
Right as an explosion detonates, Damon tackles me to the ground, covering my body with his.
Boom.
The sound of the blast is deafening. Splintering wood. Groaning metal. Shattering glass.
I close my eyes against the blinding brightness, but I can feel the heat on my face like I’m right next to a bonfire. My hair blows back with the force of it. Tucking my chin to my chest and keeping my arms folded to my stomach, I try to make myself as small as possible under Damon.
When the worst of it is over, I hear shouts and the sound of hooves beating on the ground.
And suddenly, my concern isn’t for myself.
Kirian. The horses. Torius and Kai.
Wiggling, I try to get up, but I can’t budge an inch with Damon’s weight pinning me to the ground.
Frustrated, I cry out. I squint as I look around, but the hot flames make my eyes water. All I see through blurry vision is fire and smoke. A tear glides down my temple, and I can’t even move my arms to wipe it away.
I don’t know if everyone’s okay, and I’m trapped under Damon. He’s not moving at all, and this dude is heavy.
Oh, God. What if he’s dead?
“Damon?” My voice is shaky.
“Stay still,” he orders, strained, as if he’s in pain.
A wet drop lands on my forehead and my worry increases. “Are you crying? Are you hurt that bad?”
Damon huffs out a laugh. “That’s rain. Your boyfriend’s putting out the fire.”
Raindrops come down faster now, and the cool water is a relief for my heated skin.
Craning my neck, I peek over Damon’s shoulder. Sure enough, Kirian’s standing in the grass on the side of the road, his hands lifted into the air. Storm clouds gather over us, and the downpour gets serious.
Blinking through the drops pelting my face, I watch as all the flames disappear. Thick clouds of smoke take their place, billowing out of the carriage. Or, what’s left of it. The windows, doors, and the top are gone. No more pretty blue cushions. The gold trim is charred. Our luggage, which was being stored in a rear compartment, is blown to unrecognizable bits on the road.
Once Kirian’s mission is accomplished, he lowers his arms and the storm recedes. I’m officially soaked and probably traumatized.
Before I have a chance to shove Damon off me, Kirian runs over to us and tosses his cousin to the side of the road.
“Ow,” Damon grunts as he rolls onto his stomach on the grass. “That’s the thanks I get for becoming a fae rotisserie?”
I gasp when I see his charred shirt and the reddened skin on his back. He blocked the majority of the heat with his body. He protected me. Thanks to him, I don’t have a burn on me.
“Damon’s hurt,” I say to Kirian, but he’s too busy patting me down as he searches for injuries.
“Quinn, Quinn, Quinn. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I rub my butt where I landed on a small rock. The worst it’ll do is turn into a bruise. My hand skates over several rips in my damp skirt, and now it seems silly that I was worried about getting it dirty.
A ruined dress and a sore rear end are nothing compared to the rest of the crew.
Kai is limping and his horse is nowhere to be seen. He probably got thrown from the saddle. Kirian’s right hand is burnt and blistered, like he’d turned around and tried to reach for me when the explosion happened. I don’t see Torius anywhere, and I wonder if he’s chasing the missing horses down.
There’s a steaming lump on the road about fifteen feet away, and I swallow hard when I realize it’s Gunther, the driver. He was the closest when it happened.
“Kirian, I’m not the one who needs help.” I lightly push his hands away. “Please. Gunther…”
The older fae is face down on the ground. His back rises with a ragged breath, but it looks like that side of him took the brunt of the blast. His shirt is practically disintegrated, and the moonlight’s bright enough to see big blisters forming on his skin.
After pulling me up, Kirian walks over to Gunther and helps him stand. “You’re the worst off. Your blood and burnt flesh are strong in the air.”
“He’s the worst off?” Damon cuts in incredulously, getting to his feet. “My hair got singed! How am I supposed to face the kingdom looking like this?”
Turning, he points to the back where, yeah, about ten inches got fried. The shoulder-length ends are uneven, and he’s going to need a trim to straighten it out.
Although he can’t see it, I give him a really? look. How can he possibly be thinking of his hair right now?
Ignoring Damon’s vanity-filled rant, Kirian stays focused on Gunther. “Can you fly? We’ll need to get word back to my family.”
“My wing.” A hiss of pain escapes as he lets his wings unfold and expand. On the right side, an area near the top is patchy. Little holes and wrinkles decorate what was once a smooth iridescent surface.
