Page 99 of The Hunter's Empire

Relief crashes through me so hard that it almost hurts. For a fraction of a second, I close my eyes and let myself believe I've made it. The violent freefall eases, my body jerking upward as the canopy catches the air above me.

Then I notice something is wrong. The descent is still too fast. Far too fast. A knot forms in my stomach as I lift my head and look upward.

The parachute is open, but large sections of the canopy have been torn apart. Ragged holes rip through the fabric, allowing air to pass straight through instead of slowing my descent properly.

Even from below, I can see dozens of bullet holes scattered across the material. Some are small. Others have torn wider during the fall, leaving entire sections shredded and useless.

The ambush damaged it before I ever left the aircraft.

The ocean continues rushing toward me at an alarming speed, the scattered islands growing larger with every passing second.As the reality of the situation settles in, a terrible certainty takes hold inside my chest.

I am still going to die. After everything I have survived, after every battle fought and every loss endured, this is how it ends.

For one disorienting second, I think death has finally caught up to me. My body jerks instinctively, panic surging through me as a strong arm locks around my waist and pulls me firmly against a hard chest.

I twist my head sharply, blood rushing through my veins so violently that my vision blurs around the edges.

Nico.

The sight of him is so absurd that my brain refuses to accept it. I blink once. Twice. But he doesn't disappear.

His arm remains securely around me, his expression infuriatingly calm despite the fact that we are both falling thousands of feet through open air.

Wind tears at his clothes and whips through his dark hair, but none of it seems to affect him. He looks more annoyed than frightened, as though plummeting toward the ocean is merely an inconvenience in an otherwise busy day.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I shout, my voice raw from fear. "How are you here?"

One corner of his mouth lifts. "You have a strange way of thanking someone who just saved your life, Elf."

I stare at him in disbelief. "We're still falling." The words come out uneven. My lungs feel tight. My entire body is shaking. "We're still falling to our deaths."

Nico glances toward the ocean below before looking back at me. "See? That's the problem with rich people. No patience."

A laugh almost escapes him. I don't find any of this funny.

The water beneath us is growing larger every second, transforming from a distant blue surface into something terrifyingly real. I can make out the movement of the waves now. I can see white foam where the water crashes against rocks near distant islands. The details only make the situation feel worse.

"Nico." The fear in my voice is impossible to hide. "We're too low."

His eyes settle on mine. For the first time since I noticed him, some of the amusement leaves his expression. "Look at me."

I do. Not because I want to. Because I'm desperate.

"You're not dying today." The certainty in his voice should annoy me. Instead, it leaves me staring at him in disbelief.

We are thousands of feet above the ocean, my parachute is shredded, and death is approaching with terrifying speed, yet Nico sounds completely unconcerned. As though this outcome was never in doubt.

Before I can question that impossible confidence, he reaches for the harness across his chest and the parachute deploys.

The sharp snap of the canopy opening jerks us upward hard enough to make my teeth click together. Air fills the fabric above us, and suddenly the world changes.

The frantic, uncontrollable freefall that had consumed every thought is gone, replaced by a descent that feels almost peaceful in comparison. Relief crashes through me with enough force toleave me lightheaded, and I realize I have been bracing for death so completely that my mind struggles to understand we're no longer hurtling toward it.

My body remains tense, unable to accept that we aren't actively falling anymore. Adrenaline still races through my bloodstream. My hands are clenched so tightly around his shirt that my fingers ache. It takes several seconds before my lungs finally remember how to draw a proper breath.

Nico notices. "Better?"

I don't answer immediately. I can't. The realization that I am still alive is almost too much to process.