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"Thr—"
She caught her breath when he descended, faster than a shooting star, his vines winking out of existence and the orbs blasting apart upon impact with the ground. Magic splashed her ankle, but it didn't hurt. It tingled through her skin, sending her own power haywire. Her wings fluttered; her stomach squirmed.
"Wise choice," Maia said breathily, jumping when Lethe brushed against her side and parked his backside on the grass. His tail thumped the ground when Azrail landed, as if he was a faithful dog and not a feral wolf.
"You bastard," Maia hissed, hauling her mate into a crushing hug. "You scared the shit out of me.Neverfloat menacingly in the air again."
His arms came slowly around her, awkward and tense, as if he'd forgotten how to hold her.
"Az?" Maia breathed, her heart seizing in her chest. "Are you alright?"
His arms shook, his head heavy when he laid it on her shoulder. Maia held him, sinking into their bond but unable to interpret the howling noise where his cleverness and guilt normally lived.
"Talk to me," Maia murmured, trying to wrap her soul around his. If that was even possible.
"I went into the forest," Azrail replied, scratchy and raw.
"I know," Maia agreed, reaching up to run her fingers through his black hair. "I was with you."
He shook his head, squeezing her waist. "No. I went into the trees."
"Oh," she breathed. "Shit. Into all of them?"
"Yes," he rasped.
No wonder he was struggling to pull himself back together. He’d spread his magic and awareness that far…?
"You're here now," she comforted him, her heart sprinting behind her ribs. "You're not a tree; you're my mate."
"I know I'm not a tree," he replied, some of the wry amusement she loved back in his voice. He sounded more like the man she'd first spoken to on Sorvauw Bridge, who'd smirked and teased her.
"Az?" Jaromir asked, tentatively approaching. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Azrail replied, lifting his head off her shoulder to look at Jaro. "Promise. You, however, appear to have lost your clothes."
Jaro laughed, relief thick in the sound. "I'll survive. Bryon looks worse than me, like a bog fiend."
Maia snorted. Covered in muck, the comparison wasn't far off.
"We need to get out of here," Azrail said, squeezing her waist. "Something's corrupting the forest. It's like poison blackening the roots."
Maia glanced at an uprooted tree lying on its side. Black liquid dripped from its roots. "Do you think the dark saint's done this?"
Azrail gave her a pained look, kissing her cheek. "No, love." His gaze travelled to something behind her—her wing, she realised, with a jolt.
She pulled away from him, her gut twisting into a cramp as she stared at the dark veins in the trees, the black poison dripping from leaves and branches. "You think I'm doing this."
"Maia," Azrail said, achingly sad. "Iknowyou are."
