Charred Tears (#2, Heart of Fire) by Lizzy Ford Page B

wrong about Chace.
    It urged her closer to him. If she listened, she thought she might be able to hear his heartbeat, no matter how impossible it seemed.
    God I hope I can walk out of here. Her upper body was a mess, her muscles strained from fighting a griffin in midair and her neck and head heavy and hurting.
    The foal Pegasus squealed when the creature beside Skylar finished growing. The loud, high-pitched sound made her flinch in pain.
    Despite her misery, Skylar wasn’t able to help but stare at the Pegasus. Its long, white wings unfurled, looking as soft as the clouds the creature flew among. Its body was cream rather than white, its eyes large and dark. It arched its long neck before tossing its head, the black mane blending with the night.
    It nipped Skylar’s arm then nudged her, as if urging her to stand.
    With effort, she rose, willing herself to be stronger than she felt. She wasn’t about to pass out in front of Chace or to show any other kind of weakness. No, he’d get no help from any opening in her defenses.
    Balanced and stable on her feet, she faced the waiting Pegasus. It bent one leg in an eloquent bow.
    “Yeah, whatever. You’re welcome,” she said, too agitated to know how to respond. “Do me a favor and stay out of trouble. I can’t handle too much more shit.”
    The Pegasus tossed its head in response then leapt deftly into the air. The dragons drew their grace from sheer power while the winged horse was the epitome of ethereal beauty. Skylar watched it, entranced by the surreal vision of mother and foal moving through the air.
    At last, she knew she couldn’t delay the inevitable anymore. Skylar drew a deep breath and braced herself to meet Chace for the first time since he betrayed her and she began to accept he was right all along about the slayers and shifters.
    She turned, her gaze falling immediately to Chace’s tall, muscular form. His chiseled jaw was shaded by several days of growth, his broad forehead and aquiline nose, high cheekbones and sculpted lips bathed in starlight. His dark blue gaze was direct, resting on her. Though he seemed tense, she sensed something else about him, a strain in his features she didn’t recall from their last meeting, as if Dillon told the truth about hurting him somehow.
    The sweater he wore was loose, stretched across wide shoulders and draped over his fat-free form. His jeans hugged his hips and long, lean thighs in a way that left her too warm.
    Why was he keeping his distance? He had never hesitated to approach her before. Did he suspect that she planned on decking him if he got close enough?
    Then again, did she want him close enough for her to smell his honey-bonfire scent? She was already on the balls of her feet, leaning into the breeze, to see if she could catch the faintest whiff. Too aware of the tension that was always between them, she wished for once she was able to think without her emotions interfering when he was around.
    How did the scorching look of one man threaten to undo every decision she’d made the past few days? His intense gaze sizzled through her, thrilling her before she had even touched him.
    No, Chace being close enough for her to deck wasn’t a good thing. She wasn’t able to look away from him or quench the need to touch him.
    The thick silence grew long and awkward. Gunner looked between the two of them.
    “It’s great that all of us are not dead, right?” he asked.
    His voice broke her spell. “I’m not so sure about that,” Skylar said, folding her arms across her chest.
    “Tough crowd.” Gunner cleared his throat. “He did kick the griffin’s ass. Saved your life.”
    Dammit. She was hoping the griffin had just flown off, thinking she was dead after she hit her head. It was already hard to hate Chace when her body was straining for him to touch her, even harder if he helped her.
    “I’m just gonna go … over here.” Clearly uncomfortable with the tension stretched taut between them, Gunner