Repairer of the Breach (Stones of Fire Book 4) by Sarah Ashwood (reading eggs books .TXT) 📗

Fear. Or, if there was anger, misplaced anger at himself that he wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done to defend us both. His words rang in my brain: My whole purpose of living is to make sure you’re safe. I love you.

I took in a breath and blew it out while still searching his face, attempting to read him, trying to figure out a response. Finally, I shook off the hand on my arm so I could step forward and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him.

“It’s okay,” I said. “We’ve made it this far. I can’t believe we’ll make it this far only to fall apart before you do whatever it is you’re supposed to do. Repair the breach, or something. I can’t believe all that help would’ve been sent only for both of us to wind up dead here. I really think we’ll make it.”

“You and your faith,” he scoffed, but I could hear the gruff teasing tone which told me the old Carter was returning.

“Hey, it’s gotten us this far.”

“Maybe. Maybe it is your faith that’s gotten us this far. And if you did see some angelic being, I’m sure that’s because of you, not me. Nobody would send an angel to help me.”

“Uh huh,” I teased, drawing back. “They already did. They sent me to help you.”

I’d meant it as a joke. I wasn’t expecting Carter to react the way he did. He reached up and caught the back of my neck, pulling me close, leaning down to press his mouth against mine in a fierce, almost scalding kiss. I couldn’t breathe or move as the fire of the kiss spread through my veins, reigniting everything I’d felt earlier, curling my toes and scorching me to my soul. Finally, he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine as he attempted to catch his breath. As we both did.

“You’re right,” he whispered, his voice rough. “You are my angel. If I somehow escape hell, it will be because of you.”

This wasn’t the time nor place to correct bad theology, and, anyway, I didn’t think he’d meant it as a theological statement. I ducked my head, a little embarrassed by the fervor of his words, but let my hand linger on his chest even as I retreated.

“We’d better get out of here,” was all I could think to say. There was more. So much more that I wanted to say from the depths of my heart and soul, but figuring out our relationship was going to have to take a back seat to figuring out survival.

Chapter Six

It could have been a rebuff, except there hadn’t been any rebuffing in Ellie’s attitude, especially the hand on his chest, like she didn’t want to break physical contact. There sure hadn’t been in her response to his kiss. His unplanned, impulsive, what-the-hell-was-I-thinking kiss. His kiss that shouted more than Carter would ever be able to express in words his gratitude towards her for saving his life, sticking with him, and doing everything she’d done to bring him back, but also how much he loved her and how grateful he was she was in his life. He wasn’t a romantic guy. Before Ellie, he’d have thought the ability to say that much in a kiss was the stuff songwriters dreamed up. Now, Carter knew it was entirely possible to say a lot without saying anything.

He was certain Ellie had sensed it—some of it, anyway, if not all of it. But she was also smart enough not to get drawn into a situation they couldn’t handle right now. She was being sensible, formulating a plan. Carter wished there were better options for formulating a plan, but when the chips were down you did the best you could. With any luck, they’d figure out a way to survive until morning. And after that, survive until they could find a way home.

That was eating him too. Getting home. Getting home from where? And what was all this business with Ellie’s so-called angelic visitor and the living water and the sword and the Repairer of the Breach crap? Like he was some kind of hero, or person with a grand destiny? He was a kid who’d been sent away by his parents to someone who could help him understand his shapeshifting abilities. He’d grown up tough, learning to fight, learning to defend, learning to be willing to kill or die. He wasn’t a white knight, and he wasn’t any kind of prophesied, legendary hero.

Unless it had to do with his blood, which apparently was unique enough, even in the shifter world, to unlock the Stones and open a portal to another dimension. That made Carter’s stomach feel unsettled, leaving him uneasy. There were clearly more things going on here than he ever could have suspected. And there was Ellie, caught up in it.

His heart snagged in his chest as he looked at her, dressed in those old-fashioned clothes that might’ve come from a movie set. She actually looked pretty cute. She was trying to be brave, and she’d done a good job so far of being both brave and resourceful. She’d brought him back from the brink. She’d brought them both this far. Now it was his turn to pick up the slack and help her out. Worries about the strange, prophetic sounding words and title aside, his first aim was the mandate laid on the Talos long ago: protect her.

“So, you think we should head for the city?”

Realizing his thoughts had lagged, Carter reined them back in at Ellie’s question, blowing out a breath of air to center his focus.

“Probably,” he answered, glancing over both shoulders for any other options. “I guess it’s either that or the woods. I’m not much of an outdoorsman, and if I’m in a strange place I’d rather have a wall I can put my back against.”

“A tree won’t work?”

Her lips twitched with a grin. She was making another joke, whether to lighten his