In the blink of an eye, he remembered every achingly sweet moment they’d shared. He remembered the first moment his paralysis wore off and he was able to stand again. All he’d wanted to do was find Grace and share the good news with her, to sweep her up in his arms and hold her as he’d craved to do for so long. Since he’d met her, his whole world had revolved around her visits, her touches. And now, because he couldn’t run just a little bit faster, he was going to lose her.

He gathered as many tiny sparks of energy as he could and used them to speed his stride. The sting of that power coursed over his skin, but it didn’t matter. He still wasn’t going to be fast enough.

Torr shouted, “Get back!”

Grace backed up three long steps until she was teetering on the edge of the cliff. The creature realized too late what lay on the other side of its prey. It tried to slow down, but the shiny serrated paws slid through dirt and leaves like they were water.

She took one more step and fell from the cliff just as the Hunter toppled over the edge. Their screams mingled for a split second—hers filled with fear and the Hunter’s a harsh, alien howl.

Then her scream stopped abruptly, and Torr knew Grace was gone.

Chapter 9

Torr went completely numb. He couldn’t believe what Grace had just done. She’d leapt from the cliff. Killed herself to take out one of the creatures. Killed herself to save him.

She was so insanely selfless, throwing her life away as if it meant nothing. How could he have let her do that? How could he not have seen this coming? How could he not have known she would gladly trade her life for his? Again.

He should never have let her come out here with him. Fuck what Brenya had said about gaining her trust. He should have locked Grace inside one of those huts, wrapped up in a soft cocoon of blankets so she couldn’t get so much as a paper cut.

He stumbled to the edge, praying that the drop wasn’t as steep as it seemed, or that there was water beneath to cushion her fall.

She couldn’t be gone yet—not when he’d just gotten her back.

He braced himself for what he might see and peered over the edge. The shattered remains of the Hunter lay strewn on the far bank of a narrow river. Jagged scrape marks and chunks of black glass were embedded in the opposite cliff, where it had hit as it fell to its death. Below, the edge of the river had begun to freeze.

There was no sign of Grace on the banks below, no sign of her bobbing in the churning water.

“I’m here.” Her voice came from his left, strained and weak.

Torr held his breath, afraid he’d imagined the sound.

“Over here.”

This time he was sure he hadn’t imagined it.

She sat on a narrow ledge of rock about eight feet below the edge. There was blood on her bare legs and more running down her cheek. Dirt covered her skin, along with several cuts and scratches. Leaves clung to her hair, which was a wild, tangled mess. Even so, she was the single most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

She was alive. The sheer power of his relief knocked him on his ass. He sat there, weak and shaking as a tidal wave of gratitude flowed through him.

Grace was alive. Nothing else mattered except his burning need to keep her that way.

“How badly are you hurt?” he asked, his voice shaking with emotion he couldn’t control.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. Just give me a minute and I’ll try to get up.”

Climb up and risk falling again? Fuck that. “No. Stay there. I’ll come get you.” As soon as he stopped shaking so hard. If he tried it right now, he was going to get both of them killed. He needed a minute to collect his wits and regain the strength in his limbs. The thought that he’d lost her had been enough to render even a strong man like him weak.

From the breathless quality of her voice, he could tell he wasn’t the only one scared shitless by her stunt. “There’s another way down here other than the one I took. Just follow the edge for a few more yards around the curve and you’ll see a natural ramp in the stone.”

“Okay. Just stay still and I’ll be down as soon as I can. I need to take care of unfinished business.”

She nodded, her body already slumping with fatigue as the effects of the adrenaline wore off. If she was more seriously injured than she looked, shock wasn’t going to be far behind.

Torr pulled himself together, pushed away from the ledge and went back to where the Hunter was trapped in the tree trunk. He cut himself a long section of branch about the length of his arm and skinned the smaller twigs away, leaving him a nice thick club.

With a firm two-handed grip, he got as close to the thrashing creature as he dared and swung right for its head.

The beast shattered, its grating scream dying with it. Bits of glassy black chips showered over him. A few left shallow slices along his exposed skin, but the sting barely registered. All that mattered now was Grace.

•   •   •

Grace tried to still the trembling in her limbs. She wasn’t cold anymore, but she couldn’t seem to keep from shaking.

Nervous energy tumbled out of her core with nowhere to go. She couldn’t even stand and walk it off—not with what was probably a sprained ankle.

The fall she’d taken hadn’t been very far down, but in that moment her life flashed before her eyes.

With only four years of memory, it was a sad, lonely thing to witness.

There was more to life than what Brenya allowed her, and from this moment on, Grace wasn’t going to let anyone stand in the way of her experiencing it. Weak or not, human or not, she was going to find her place in the world and milk every drop of happiness she could from life. No one was going to stop her.

Torr’s steps sounded from behind her, much too fast for the narrow ledge he traveled. Before she could even scoot around enough to tell him to slow down, he was at her side, his big hot hands gliding over her.

“Where are you hurt?” he asked.

Grace was struck again by how beautiful he was. Lean animal strength poured from him, making her wish she could soak it in. Even in his concern he was stunning. His worry seemed to brighten his amber eyes and gave him the feral look of a male predator.

She shivered again, and this time it was due more to some innate feminine response to his nearness than to her ordeal.

“My ankle is the worst. The rest are just minor scratches and bruises.”

His hands moved along her leg, gently unlacing the leather straps covering her calves. Once her leg was bare, his fingers stroked her skin, carefully probing as he inched down to her foot. She closed her eyes and reveled in how good his touch felt.