Claus

Seventeen

Death wrapped its two strong arms around her chest. She'd heard of death's embrace but imagined it would be like running into knives. And while these arms pressed awkwardly against her bones and into her skin, it was a far cry from being stabbed by blades. A splash of icy water hit her shoes, and with a jolt she realized she was hovering above the water, not hurtling into it.

There was a grunt in her ear, and the arms tightened around her. "Faryn," a voice gritted out. Cassian's voice. "Please don't move." His mouth was at her ear, and he was breathing hard.

Only because she had placed her bag under her cloak was it still attached to her, hanging like a sack of bricks from her shoulder.

Even mere feet from the water, she could hardly make out the white froth of the sea. The water that had hit her was quickly making its way through her boots and socks. If Cassian hadn't caught her—if she had hit the water, would her bones have shattered?

That's when realization struck. Cassian had caught her.

His chest pressed into her back, and even through his layers of clothes, she could feel his muscles working and straining as he both held her and beat his wings.

Flying. That's what he was doing. So that's what Faryn—

She shut her eyes. "Thank you." Her heart was racing, and it probably wouldn't slow down anytime soon. She cracked her eyes open. The water swirled underneath her. She wasn't in a position to see his wings, and in the few days they'd spent together, he had never once revealed them.

Cassian flew upward, and Faryn shut her eyes again, this time against the wind. It wasn't until her feet pressed down on the pavers that she opened them.

Before her Peter was on his knees, his breathing labored. "Faryn. I—"

She shook her head, placing a hand against her incontrollable heart as Cassian's hold loosened on her, though he didn't release her entirely.

"It's not your fault," she said.

"Are you steady?" Cassian's mouth was still close to her ear, and somehow she managed to nod. As she did so, she felt the brush of his lips against the side of her ear, and she shuddered. Not from the cold or her plunge or the nearness of death, though she desperately hoped Cassian assumed it was one of those three. It was an accident. An unfortunate accident.

Cassian let go of her but continued to linger.

"Thank you." She lowered her hand taking a deep breath. "Thank you."

It was at that moment the rest of her body realized what her heart already had, and her legs gave out, the muscles feeling like they turned to melting sludge. She grasped for the cliff face.

Cassian had her back in his arms in an instant.

They stayed there for a few minutes, neither Peter nor Cassian pressuring her to get over it or to hurry up and recover.

She checked her thigh, breathing out a sigh of relief when she felt the dagger had remained strapped in place. "I'm . . . good. Let's go." Trapped inside her shoes, her socks were wet. If she couldn't take them off soon, her magic wouldn't be enough to hold frostbite back forever. She wouldn't say her toes were pretty, but she was partial to them and preferred to have all ten.

Faryn took up the lead, and Peter made Cassian take the middle. At some point the Fata had gotten rid of his wings. She never even got a glimpse of them.

They all moved so slowly that Faryn was certain they'd miss their boat and that her toes were going to freeze. Being this cold was foreign to her. How did Peter and Cassian bear it?