Praying they could support him—and Melanthe—he freed his legs. He plummeted, unfurling his wings, grimacing in pain. But even in the dense miasma, he was able to ascend the wall back to her.

Though he heard eerie moans from a legion of beings, he couldn’t think about anyone but his mate. Nïx had told him that this stomach was too thick to slash through, that he’d be drugged again before he could fight his way free. She’d warned him he had only two hundred and forty seconds from the time he awoke until a poisonous mist would be dispersed, wiping away his memories and sending him back to the place of his most coveted dreams.

He darted a glance over his shoulder. On the opposite wall of the stomach, some kind of bulbous gland, at least twenty feet in diameter, was swelling. To emit the mist?

Running out of time! A portal was their only hope. He flew to Melanthe.

Thronos wished he didn’t have to wake her until he’d taken her from this place—he’d heard of Loreans faced with such horror that they never recovered their faculties—but he had no choice.

Gripping the tentacle vein coiled around her arm, he slashed at the rubbery surface, pointing the acid-dripping end away from her body.

Her eyes shot open. She sucked in a breath—then released it in an earsplitting shriek.

He redoubled his efforts, attacking another tentacle.

“No, no, this isn’t happening.” Her face crumpled. “Tell me it’s not eating my skin!”

“Melanthe, you have to calm yourself. You’ve got to create a portal.”

Her head thrashed against the putrid lining, searing strands of her hair clear away. “That’s why it felt like I was burning in Feveris!” Once he’d freed her and taken her into his arms, she latched onto him. “M-make this stop! I’ll do anything. Just make me wake up!”

“We are awake. But if we don’t leave this place, we’ll be here for eternity. In Feveris, you restored your power.”

“You said that wasn’t real!”

“Didn’t it feel real?” He wished to the gods it had been. “You have power, right now. I need you to use it. Remember, it’s a muscle.”

She darted her gaze at her surroundings, a series of cries bursting from her lips. That gland swelled, threatening to burst.

“No, look at me!” He pinched her chin. “I know you can do this.”

Her tears threatened to spill, wrecking him.

He rasped, “You can do this, lamb.”

At that, she said, “I-I’ll try.”

When her eyes began to glitter, he murmured, “That’s it.” He felt her tensing in his arms. Despite her terror, she called up her power; he could perceive it welling, unstoppable.

Could others? Unconscious captives moaned louder.

Sorcery sparked around her, growing and growing, blazing out from her like dawn—pure, pristine blue overwhelming rancid green.

Dimly, in the back of his mind, he wondered how he’d ever considered the light of her sorcery anything but . . . wondrous.

Heartbeats passed.

She sagged against him.

“I did it,” she gasped.

“Where?” He spun them in circles. No opening. The mist would come at any second.

“It should be here! I made a portal. I felt it happening.”

The gland erupted, spewing a green fog. “Damn it, no!”

Relaxation stole through Lanthe’s body. “This is better.” She grinned up at him as her eyes slid closed.

“No, stay with me!” Another turn. Nothing. “Where is the bloody portal?”

With dread, he looked down. A narrow tear in this reality lay waiting—one surrounded by piping acid.

When the portal started to close, he muttered a prayer, wrapped his wings around Lanthe . . .

And dropped.

As they plummeted through the rift, he realized some being had followed.

FORTY

Lanthe woke to the resounding silence of the sea.

When she opened her eyes, she saw murky ocean pressing down all around her and Thronos. In the dim light, his face was set with pain as he struggled to hold on to her and get them to safety.

They’d been freed from that nightmare—only to reach another one.

She clasped him tighter, so he could use both arms to swim. The water was lightening. At least there was a surface!

They were halfway there when her lungs reached their limit. She clawed him, needing air . . . about to involuntarily breathe water. He swam even faster, his heart pounding against her ear.

They breached the surface into a stormy day, sucking in misty breaths as they rolled on giant swells. She blinked against sea spray, trying to get her bearings.

“Where are . . . ?” She trailed off when Thronos’s head craned up. She twisted to look over her shoulder, saw water all the way up to the sky.

Inconceivably high. About to crash over them.

He’d already kicked for propulsion, shooting into flight. But if he couldn’t get high enough . . .

Her mind couldn’t accept the size of the wave—like a mountain of liquid toppling over. “Faster, Thronos!”

His jaw was clenched, his heart sounding like it’d explode. “Don’t let go of me, Lanthe!”

When the swell began to crest over them, he rotated in the air, wrapping his wings tightly around her. The wave collided with them so fast the water became as solid as brick.

The momentum hurtled them toward the coast, a jagged stone cliff. When they crashed into it, the rocks tore his wings like a monster with fangs, trying to rip her away from Thronos.