immediately answer, he grew instantly alert. Saffron was a Seer. They were rare in the Druid world, so rare that she’d been kidnapped by Declan Wallace in order to use her magic.
It had been Camdyn, her husband, who released her from her imprisonment. Those were three years Saffron never spoke of.
“Saffron,” Arran said softly. “Did you have some sort of vision?”
There was a long sigh through the phone. “Yes.”
Arran squeezed his eyes closed because he knew whom the vision was about. “Ronnie.”
“Yes,” Saffron said again.
“What did you see?”
“Not nearly enough. I’m sorry. All I know is that she’s scared. Really scared, Arran. The kind of scared like I was when Camdyn found me in Declan’s dungeon.”
Arran’s gut clenched painfully. He struck a tree with his fist. “Fuck.”
“I wanted to call you first. Camdyn went to the castle to tell the others. Fallon will want to send another Warrior, and maybe that’s wise.”
“Nay,” Arran said forcefully. He didn’t want to share Ronnie with anyone. “I can do this.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen to her. It could be an accident at the site, or it could be a mugging in the city, a wreck while she’s driving. It could be anything.”
“A wreck,” he repeated, and jerked his head up to where the taillights of Ronnie’s car had disappeared. “I’ll call you back.”
Arran was running before the last word left his mouth. He didn’t hold back this time. Memphaea wanted to be released, and with the dread pounding through him, he was barely able to keep his god clamped down.
Using all his speed, Arran hurdled parked cars and boulders. He didn’t follow the road, but instead took a straight path until he saw Ronnie’s taillights.
He began to slow until he saw a car turn the curve toward her. The tire blew at that moment, causing the car to swerve in Ronnie’s lane.
“Ronnie!” Arran shouted as he pumped his legs harder to reach her.
It was going to be a head-on collision. The cars were too close to each other, and it was happening too fast.
“Turn the damn wheel, Ronnie!” Arran shouted, knowing it wouldn’t do any good since she couldn’t hear him.
But somehow, she did jerk the wheel at the last second. The car slammed into her passenger side. The squeal of tires and the smell of burnt rubber along with the crunch of metal would stay in his memory forever.
The cars were still rocking from their collision when he reached her. He threw open her door, halting his true strength so he didn’t rip it off, to find her gripping the wheel so tightly, her fingers were white.
“Ronnie?” he asked softly, hesitantly. “Ronnie, lass. I need you to look at me. Look at me,” he said louder when she didn’t move.
Her startled, fear-filled hazel eyes turned to him. “Arran?”
“Aye. Are you hurt?”
“I … I don’t know.”
He did a once-over, but didn’t see any blood besides a cut on her hand from the broken passenger window. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Arran rushed to the other car, and after determining they were also all right, he ran back to Ronnie. She hadn’t moved. Blood ran from the cut between her two knuckles, where a small piece of glass had embedded itself in her hand.
He took her face in his hands and made her look at him again. “Ronnie, did you hit your head?”
Her eyes were a bit dazed as she tried to shake her head no, but a wince quickly stopped her.
“Damn,” Arran muttered.
He pried one of her hands from the wheel and felt how ice-cold it was. Shock. He rubbed her hand to help warm her before he gently took her other hand.
Arran carefully held her injured hand in his. “I’ve got to get the glass out.”
“Glass,” Ronnie repeated. Then she looked at her hand and nodded. “Yes. Please get it out.”
“Turn your head.”
He waited until she looked away before he looked at the glass. His fingers were too big to try to grab it without hurting her. The
It had been Camdyn, her husband, who released her from her imprisonment. Those were three years Saffron never spoke of.
“Saffron,” Arran said softly. “Did you have some sort of vision?”
There was a long sigh through the phone. “Yes.”
Arran squeezed his eyes closed because he knew whom the vision was about. “Ronnie.”
“Yes,” Saffron said again.
“What did you see?”
“Not nearly enough. I’m sorry. All I know is that she’s scared. Really scared, Arran. The kind of scared like I was when Camdyn found me in Declan’s dungeon.”
Arran’s gut clenched painfully. He struck a tree with his fist. “Fuck.”
“I wanted to call you first. Camdyn went to the castle to tell the others. Fallon will want to send another Warrior, and maybe that’s wise.”
“Nay,” Arran said forcefully. He didn’t want to share Ronnie with anyone. “I can do this.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen to her. It could be an accident at the site, or it could be a mugging in the city, a wreck while she’s driving. It could be anything.”
“A wreck,” he repeated, and jerked his head up to where the taillights of Ronnie’s car had disappeared. “I’ll call you back.”
Arran was running before the last word left his mouth. He didn’t hold back this time. Memphaea wanted to be released, and with the dread pounding through him, he was barely able to keep his god clamped down.
Using all his speed, Arran hurdled parked cars and boulders. He didn’t follow the road, but instead took a straight path until he saw Ronnie’s taillights.
He began to slow until he saw a car turn the curve toward her. The tire blew at that moment, causing the car to swerve in Ronnie’s lane.
“Ronnie!” Arran shouted as he pumped his legs harder to reach her.
It was going to be a head-on collision. The cars were too close to each other, and it was happening too fast.
“Turn the damn wheel, Ronnie!” Arran shouted, knowing it wouldn’t do any good since she couldn’t hear him.
But somehow, she did jerk the wheel at the last second. The car slammed into her passenger side. The squeal of tires and the smell of burnt rubber along with the crunch of metal would stay in his memory forever.
The cars were still rocking from their collision when he reached her. He threw open her door, halting his true strength so he didn’t rip it off, to find her gripping the wheel so tightly, her fingers were white.
“Ronnie?” he asked softly, hesitantly. “Ronnie, lass. I need you to look at me. Look at me,” he said louder when she didn’t move.
Her startled, fear-filled hazel eyes turned to him. “Arran?”
“Aye. Are you hurt?”
“I … I don’t know.”
He did a once-over, but didn’t see any blood besides a cut on her hand from the broken passenger window. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Arran rushed to the other car, and after determining they were also all right, he ran back to Ronnie. She hadn’t moved. Blood ran from the cut between her two knuckles, where a small piece of glass had embedded itself in her hand.
He took her face in his hands and made her look at him again. “Ronnie, did you hit your head?”
Her eyes were a bit dazed as she tried to shake her head no, but a wince quickly stopped her.
“Damn,” Arran muttered.
He pried one of her hands from the wheel and felt how ice-cold it was. Shock. He rubbed her hand to help warm her before he gently took her other hand.
Arran carefully held her injured hand in his. “I’ve got to get the glass out.”
“Glass,” Ronnie repeated. Then she looked at her hand and nodded. “Yes. Please get it out.”
“Turn your head.”
He waited until she looked away before he looked at the glass. His fingers were too big to try to grab it without hurting her. The
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