Foretold. Rinda Elliott

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      Chapter Five

      Shock kept me silent for a few seconds. All I heard was the harsh pounding of my racing heart echoed by the howl of agitated wolves. I latched on to his arms, fingers tight on hard biceps. It had taken me forever to get those words right with gloppy toothpaste. “Where were you standing when this happened? We’ve only got a few minutes!” Yeah, I yelled, sounded crazy frantic, but I didn’t care in that moment.

      He flinched in surprise, blinked at me. He’d been all about the intimidation and here I was. Screaming in his face.

      I shook him. Or tried to. He was built like a tree. Instead, I dug my fingernails into tight muscle and skin, probably drawing blood because he hadn’t put on a shirt yet. “Dammit, tell me where you were standing when the room started spinning! You have to go back there now! Time will go back to normal—your brothers’ll see you’ve moved!”

      “Stop yelling!” Vanir grabbed my hands. “I was in the hall, out of sight. Heard you getting sick, so I was going to offer you some water.”

      Relief swamped me. I sagged, nearly falling off the counter. He steadied me, leaving his hands on my shoulders. Big, heavy, warm. That weird comfort came from his palms, his touch. I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing with your hands?”

      He didn’t answer immediately, wasting the precious few seconds we had before the worst part of the rune tempus hit. His hands tightened. “You can feel that? I knew something was different about you.” He nodded toward the toothpaste runes, his hair sliding across his chin. “I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing, but I want to know what those—”

      He broke off as the room began the slow spin, his dark eyes widening, his nostrils flaring...his hands tightening even more. “Not again,” he muttered, broken suffering giving his tone a low, gravelly sound.

      Streams of pain slithered into my shoulders beneath each of his fingers. I put my hands on him, not even thinking about where. My palms slid over his bare stomach. A part of me, the part grasping for anything normal in this surreal situation, took note of how warm he was, how smooth his skin felt under my fingertips.

      “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “There’s no time to explain, but you can’t say anything to your brothers. Promise me!”

      Vanir swayed, closed his eyes. His groan vibrated under my hands.

      “Promise me!” I screamed as the blood began to pulse in my ears.

      “Okay, okay! Hell!” He gritted his teeth, eyes slitting open as they started to roll back in his head.

      I cupped his cheeks to get him to look at me. “Hold on to the door or the counter or something. Focus on something else. Anything! It’ll help.” Not that he could. I mean, how could he? He had no idea what was going on and the rune tempus was scary as hell.

      Shock lashed through my heart when his arms slid around me. He pulled me close, sliding my butt along the counter until our upper bodies were plastered together.

      I didn’t mean me. I’d meant something sturdy.

      But it was too late.

      The room picked up speed. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around his back, smashing my cheek against the hot, hard muscles of his chest. I only had enough time to wish I could enjoy the way he felt before the world took off.

      Faster. And faster. Black counters, shower curtain and rug blurring into the rest of the white room, slimming into lines. A swirling of dark and light that spun around and around until it felt like it pulled at limbs, tried to tug me into the abyss. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t going through this alone. I hated that he felt this terror, but some small part of me reveled in having someone to hold on to.

      I pressed into his chest. His hands dug into my back. He bowed his head, burying his face in my hair—the moan that rumbled from his throat slid under my skin to scrape my conscience raw. “I’m so sorry, so sorry,” I whispered, repeating the words over and over, my lips against his skin. I knew what he was feeling.

      The effort it took to stand still.

      The painful grip as you held on to something for dear life.

      And in every single breath, the sucking, sickening terror that if you let go, you’d go flying into the surrounding vortex, screaming like a banshee as the world disappeared.

      He swayed again. I was used to this and it nearly killed me every time. He started to sag and I squeezed him hard. He grunted, though I couldn’t have caused much pain. I wrapped my legs around him to help keep him steady on his feet.

      It didn’t occur to me what this would do to our lower bodies.

      I went hot. Everywhere. His back went rigid. He pulled back to look down at me and I realized I’d picked the only sure way to distract a guy. His mouth was a heartbeat from mine, his breath caressing my face.

      Fire crawled up my neck. I bit my lip when I saw the answering flare of heat in his dark eyes. I gasped, my mouth falling open.

      He swooped in and I let him.

      Anticipation fluttered in my belly as his lips pressed mine. His hands flattened on my spine before sliding down to grip my waist. He pulled away, glittering eyes staring at me, one of his hands gliding up to wrap the back of my neck. Warm fingers slipped into my short hair. I tilted my head and this time he opened my lips with his, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. I had a second to be glad I’d swished some toothpaste in my mouth when the world around us literally jerked to a stop.

      Vanir wrenched away, his hands coming up to make sure I didn’t fall even as he did. His legs wobbled as he took one step back and then another before he fell through the open doorway.

      His slam into the wall rattled СКАЧАТЬ