Well, leaving Brick alone, because Jagger slumped to the ground, his life force stolen. The last sight he had was of Brick—

  “No! No!” Brick’s denial rang around the plateau. He dropped to his knees beside Jagger’s body. No, beside Jagger, because even though he’d seen that, had felt it, he wouldn’t believe it. He laid Jagger down then slapped his face…too hard. “Sorry! But come on, wake up. They’ve gone now. You…”

  Jagger was colder than anything should ever be.

  “You…” Brick thumped on Jagger’s chest. Were elves’ hearts in the same place as wyverns’? He slammed his fist down in several places to make sure, apologizing each time. Tears ran down his face and soaked Jagger’s chest. “You knew,” he muttered, sitting back on his heels. “Knew something was going to happen…to me. I don’t know how you did, but you knew. And you stopped it. Let it take you instead of me. You stupid, stupid elf!”

  A triumphant cawing noise had his head jerking up to see the row of huge black birds from the cave mouth were hopping toward him over the stony ground. They moved with purpose, their beady eyes glittering.

  Brick let out a hoarse laugh. “Yeah right. Sure. Get stuck in, you and your friends. Not!” He scrabbled on the ground and his hand came up with a palmful of stones that he flung at the carrion birds, scattering them in a flurry of feathers and indignant screeches. “Plenty more where that came from,” Brick called after them.

  He turned back to Jagger. “I saw those off for you,” he told him, wondering what the splash of water that landed on him was, until he touched his cheek and found it wet with tears.

  Jagger didn’t respond, but lay where Brick had arranged him, his glossy dark curls framing his much-too-pale face, his brown eyes closed. He and Jagger had been through so much in their short time together—every second had been charged and intense…and Brick loved him.

  “No.” Brick spoke calmly now, as if refuting something he knew to be wrong. “I’m not losing you. Not like this. Not my soul-bonded.”

  He threw his head back and roared, like wyverns of old in their caverns under the earth. It was as if something charged through him, charging things in him, and he bent his face to Jagger’s, feeling the tickle of his beard and mustache briefly before he sealed his mouth to his. What was shifting in him? It felt almost like when he’d part-shifted to use his wyvern tongue in his other-form, but this came from deeper within him.

  His breath. It streamed up from his soul and poured into Jagger. Brick held Jagger tight, close, and sent his wyvern breath into his mate’s body. Jagger twitched. Just a little, but Brick caught it. He pulled away, not because he needed to heave in more air. In fact, his breath still misted from him. He needed to bathe Jagger in it, and that would be easier, would be quicker and Jagger would spend less time in the Realm of the Dead the more skin he had exposed for Brick to breathe on.

  He stripped Jagger as swiftly as he could and worked on him, coating every inch of his flesh with his breath. When he reached Jagger’s feet, his toes twitched, as though someone were tickling him. So Brick did it again, breathed on his soles, and Jagger jerked that foot away. Brick was staring so hard at that he jumped at the loud, rusty gasp Jagger gave and only looked up in time to see Jagger’s chest suck in, then expand.

  He coughed and spluttered, as he had in the pool yesterday, and Brick darted to his top half, to lift his head and shoulders off the ground, to aid his respiration. The best sight he’d ever seen was Jagger’s eyes, revealed as he opened them wide and stared at Brick. His lips pursed, as if to ask why. At least Brick hoped it wasn’t who, that he had no memory loss.

  “Brick.” Jagger sat up and looked down at himself. His naked self. He glanced from his clothes, strewn at random on the ground around him, to Brick. “Gods, you’re always horny. And people say elves are bad.”

  “No.” Brick tried to make his voice normal and his eyes free of tears. “Elves are wonderful.”

  “Glad you think so.” The hand that Jagger reached to Brick’s face, to stroke it, shook a little. “Seeing as you’re bonded to one. You…did know?”

  “Oh yes.” Brick’s nod flung the tear from his eye. “Yes.”

  The second yes wasn’t so much an affirmative reply to Jagger’s statement as an eager, fervid agreement.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It was as passionate as their kisses, which went on for a long time, until the pair of them eventually broke apart. Jagger used a fingertip to trace the huge grin on Brick’s face when Brick eased away. It went from ear to ear, a beam of pure happiness, although Brick had a right to a smugger one, or even a smirk, after what he’d done.

  “Are your kisses part of the package too?” Jagger asked. “Because I definitely feel more alive after them.” He half-expected to see sparks arcing from his fingertips.

  “I…suppose so.” Brick sat back on his heels. “I mean, I don’t think I was ever that good a kisser.”

  “Hey.” Jagger cupped his cheek. “That’s not right. There’s been fire whenever we touched, right from the start.” Which should have been a clue. He became aware of how dank and chilly the day was. “I’d better make myself decent.”

  “Here. Let me.”

  Brick stopped Jagger twisting for his clothes, to put them on, and started dressing Jagger himself. He was probably the worst valet Jagger could ever have imagined, clonking him on the head as he attempted to pull on his shirt, and putting his boots on the wrong feet and having to start again. But none of that mattered. Jagger still felt a little weak, and besides, any excuse to get Brick’s hands on him was good. He’d bet Brick thought so too—they were seeking out each other’s touch.

  “When did you know that we were bonded? Because it wasn’t just because of the breath, right?” he asked. “Although that is so cool!” The implications struck him. “Your power’s healing? No—more than that. Resurrecting.” Because he was pretty sure he’d been if not in the Realm of the Dead, then hovering on its threshold.

  He settled himself, his back to a rock, Brick next to him with their legs tangled together and their hands clasping. “What you did—what you can do—how does it work, Brick? Can you do it for everyone?” Jagger wasn’t sure how he felt about that. What Brick had done was intimate. The thought of him doing it for others… Was it selfish of Jagger to want it just for himself?

  “I don’t know.” Brick gave a half-shrug. “Wyvern breath is usually something that’s used in public, yeah, for gain. Or it doesn’t even have to be used, like with my father. People just knowing he possesses storm breath is enough to make him powerful. I think he’s only used it twice in his whole life.”

  And wyvern lives were nice and long, Jagger knew. “Go on?”

  “But I’ve never heard of…what I did. I have a sort of feeling it’s one of the things that’s only between a bonded pair. They sort of share things. Characteristics. Which I think we have already.”

  The last sentence came out in a mumbled rush, but Jagger heard it, and understood it…because now he grasped things he thought he’d seen, like their shadows both being wyverns. And things he thought he’d felt, like his hand acquiring claws and talons, and his cock becoming— His cock— His breath caught in his chest.

  “I’d have to read old Ruby Throne scrolls on it,” Brick finished. He tilted his head to get a look at Jagger. “And talking of lore, that’s how you knew what was going to happen, isn’t it? I remember hearing something about elf tears. I can’t recall it all, but it starts ‘elves shed no tears in their early years’.”

  “Really?” Jagger had never heard it put like that. “Finally something that actually rhymes and scans! But yeah.” He explained about the tear globe and how it had manifested, and the horrifying scene he’d witnessed in it. “And I couldn’t let that happen,” he finished.

  Brick was silent for a moment. When he spoke, it was with him looking into the distance. “We’ve been talking about the lore, about the mystical aspect of, well—”

  “The B word. Bonding.” Jagger helped him say it. “Spit it out. Don’t be a Kevin about things.”

  “But not the emotional one,” Brick finished.

  “Ah.” Jagger tightened his hold on Brick’s hands. True—he hadn’t felt ready to deal with that yet, but he had to. They had to.

  “You know what it means. It means being together.”

  The idea of that sent a thrill through Jagger, one that had his lips slanting in a smile.

  “You with me and me with you,” Brick continued. “Tied. Chained—”

  “Angel,” Jagger interrupted, the endearment falling from his lips and surprising him as much as it did Brick, going by the startled look on his face.

  “Angel?” Brick screwed up his mouth as though he were eating citron fruit.

  “Because of the wings,” Jagger explained.

  “Yeah, got that. But still…”

  “Prince. That do?”

  Brick shrugged, which Jagger took as a yes. He took Brick’s face in his hands and spoke with his lips inches from Brick’s. “The words you were using. Tied. Chained. Interesting language…and activities. Is that something…you’re open to trying?”

  Brick’s eyes opened wide and a dull flush spread across his face. Jagger wouldn’t let his prince duck away though. “I got a few ideas I always wanted to try…” Brick muttered, and damn if Jagger didn’t get flashes in his mind’s eye of what those ‘ideas’ were. “But it seems cruel.”

  “Not if it’s consensual,” Jagger assured him. “And if both parties are aware of—”

  “No!” Brick pulled away and got to his feet. “Not that.” If he’d attempted to put distance between himself and Jagger, then him bending to help Jagger up too undercut that. “I mean it always felt mean to make someone be with me perhaps against their will. You’ve seen how I get around magic. How I react. If it’s not a nosebleed, it’s— Well, worse. I can’t remember stuff and get it wrong. I’m dull and plodding and—”

  “And I never wanted to settle down with one person. Being with just one person forever? I thought it was a death sentence!” Jagger cut in.

  “Oh.” Brick gave a nod and half-turned away.

  Jagger swung him back. “But that was before I met you. Brick! You’re probably the most exciting person I’ve ever met. Not just sexually, although there you give me a run for my money and then some.”

  Brick stood stolid and stoic, like he was waiting for the punchline and that the joke would be on him.

  “I love your steadfastness, your stubbornness, that you won’t give up. Your curiosity, about people and things and places. Your eagerness to see and try something new. All your knowledge and ideas. Look at all we’ve done in the course of a few days,” Jagger continued. “So just imagine the rest of our lives, because I am.”

  The smile that turned into a grin on Brick’s face was the most wonderful thing Jagger had ever seen, until Brick nodded. That was the best sight ever. “Which makes sense, seeing as we love each other, by the way,” Jagger added, waiting for Brick to nod more at that and whisper his agreement.

  He didn’t know if Brick could see the images playing in his head, all the places they could go, the things they could do there… “And there’d be no problem with your allergy.”

  “Sensitivity!” Brick broke in. “No, fuck it. Allergy.”

  “To magic,” Jagger plowed on. “Not with you having access to my elven magic, just as I partake in your wyvern ways…” This time he was sure Brick was picking up the images spooling in Jagger’s mind’s eye. The filthy, delicious images. “There must be something you always wanted to try,” he coaxed.

  “Well…yes. Maybe,” Brick babbled.

  “Like?” Jagger pushed.

  Brick bent a little to whisper in Jagger’s ear, and Jagger’s eyes flew wide open.

  “Really?” he gasped. “The tail?” He peeped over Brick’s shoulder at his rear as if expecting to see it. Wanting to see it. To experience it.

  “Really.” Brick nodded.

  “Well, fuck me,” Jagger breathed.

  “That’s kind of the idea,” Brick looked coy.

  “You, my prince, are decadent.” Jagger recalled the claws, around his dick. That element of danger. “Debauched.” The tongue. Sweet Mother of Elves, the tongue. He grabbed Brick to pull him into a kiss. “Depraved,” he whispered against Brick’s lips.

  The creaking sound behind him had him tearing his lips free and whirling around…to see the large rock that had been at the entrance to the Cave of the Worlds was rolling away. “I guess the Horrorcle will see us now?” he said, sounding braver than he felt.

  “We don’t have to. Like you said.” Brick nodded at the cave.

  Jagger knew his valiant prince wasn’t scared, so waited for him to explain.

  “Because what if she says the prophecy isn’t about us? That we don’t have to make the alliance?”

  That we’re not bonded, Jagger heard. He settled his sword belt and straightened his leather coat. “Prophecy shmophecy. Who listens to that old bull? No matter what it means, we’re together.” He’d tell Brick that as often as he needed to hear it, to believe it. “But aren’t you curious about who was trying to stop us getting here? Because I really think that’s what was happening. Don’t you?”

  Brick narrowed his eyes, and his forehead creased, as though he were going over everything that had tried to come between them and this place.

  “The hobgoblins, the stymph birds, the river, the bounty hunters?”

  “Earth. Air. Water. Fire,” Brick replied.

  Oh. True. “And then, when we managed to get into the forest, and especially when we got deeper, right up until here, more things?”

  “But they felt different, somehow,” Brick argued.

  “Well, I’m tired of being pushed around! Aren’t you?” Jagger demanded. Brick nodded. “So let’s go ask the question and get this over with.”

  Hand in hand, they ducked under the low entrance and marched in where Brick let out a muffled scream and pointed. “It’s true! You have to face your worst fears!”

  Jagger had to admit his own heart thudded at the huge, distorted version of himself in front of him. “So your worst fear is that your butt looks big?”

  “My…” Brick whipped around, and Jagger wanted to laugh at the elongated-to-impossible-proportions reflection of Brick in the mirror to their right.

  A glass to their left showed Brick’s body bent like a circus contortionist. “Oh, I wish I could really do that,” he said.

  Jagger sort of wished they weren’t here, especially when a high-pitched cackle screeched out from up on high. No, over to their left. Wait—behind them. Then, finally…inside his head. He clutched it in his hands and when he looked up, the Horrorcle was there.

  “Can you see…her?” he asked Brick.

  Brick nodded, staring at the shrouded black figure wreathed in dark-gray smoke.

  She hovered, not touching the ground, yet she seemed solid. She didn’t seem that frightening. As Jagger thought that, cold dread entered his mind. No, his soul. It was just a touch, as if by a tendril or a plume of the smoke surrounding the figure but left him no doubt that it could invade his whole body and seize it, paralyze it. “Sorry,” Jagger whispered.

  “I know what you seek.”

  The voice spoke inside his mind, and Jagger glanced at Brick, wondering if he were hearing it too. Brick squeezed his hand yes.

  “To earn the truth, you must give me a sacrifice.”

  “What?” Brick asked.

  “You two must part ways.”

  “Really.” Jagger had been expecting something like this.

  “Only for a few harvests. You will come together again when five winters have passed, with untold riches and power, and your fate is your own.”

  “Five fucking years apart when we’ve just found each other?” Brick howled. “No way. Nothing’s worth that!”

  “Too right. We’re not waiting half a decade to marry,” Jagger told the apparition, or whatever it was.

  “Yeah— Marry?” Brick stared at him. “When did you propose? I must have been asleep and missed it.”

  “Oh…” Jagger was embarrassed. “Maybe you were belching, and didn’t hear me?”

  Brick folded his arms across his chest and pouted.

  “I like your belches,” Jagger assured him. “And I’ll get down on my knees properly as soon as we get out of here, okay?”

  “Knees? Shouldn’t it be knee?” Brick frowned.

  “Not for what I have in mind.” Jagger winked. “I’ll propose as well.”

  “Marriage?” Brick queried, showing how well he knew Jagger. “And if you do, who’s to say I’ll accept?”

  “Oh, I can be very persuasive.” Jagger gave a slow lick of his lips, dropping his gaze, and was rewarded by a groan.

  “I am still here!” the Horrorcle hissed indignantly. “And if you would still seek the truth of the prophecy and your quest and those behind both, look no further. If it’s not too much trouble, elf.”

  “You pissed her off,” Brick observed.

  “Me?” Jagger started to argue, stopping at the slithering, wisping sound from farther in the cave.

  A veil floated away from something sparkling and gleaming on one wall of the cave, and he found he couldn’t resist stepping up to it, drawing Brick with him. A huge mirror.

  “So, we’re going to learn who’s responsible for all we’ve been through…” He trailed off. He didn’t know most of the people he could see forming in the mirror but recognized a family resemblance—to Brick. Some of the people he did know…like his father, Jerrick, and his king, Jade.

  “I don’t…” Brick started to say, then grabbed wildly for Jagger as they were both sucked through what wasn’t a mirror, but a portal…