Page 48 of On Burning Paths

And Thorian.

And Talon.

I have to move on for them.

Turning toward the edge of the cliff, I keep my eyes focused carefully on the other side. I won’t allow myself to look down. I want to hold Fenric in my memories as who he was in life. Laughing, holding his hand out to mind, those freckles on his face shifting with his smile.

“Fenric,” I say, voice wobbling and barely making it out. “I want you to know that I’m going to help your family when we win this thing. They can come back to my manor, and each of them will have a room. Or a house on the land. We’ll eat dinner together each night and⁠—”

A noise drifts up from the canyon below and I startle, stepping back.

“What is it?” Talon asks, cupping my elbow in his hand.

“I—” I stare at the wooden posts at the end of the bridge, the chain wrapped around them. When I was standing there, I swear I heard it move.

“The wind,” Thorian says, though the rain has calmed to a drizzle and the wind is dying down with it. I blink in confusion, and he takes my other arm, tugging gently at me. “I’m sure he heard you, Nyx. But we really⁠—”

“A little—” there’s a grunt from somewhere below, then the rattling of chains before a weak, “…help?”

“Fenric!” His name gasps from my mouth in a rush, and in an instant, Talon and Thorian are on their stomachs, reaching down toward the berserker, who’s holding tightly to the bridge, having pulled himself up the thing like a ladder what must have been the length of a corn field.

Thorian isn’t satisfied, and instead of grabbing Fenric, he takes hold of the bridge, hauling it up like a rope, like the tons of metal chain don’t weigh a thing.

And a moment later, Fenric is panting, crawling on his knees, in front of me.

I drop down and wrap my arms around him, crying, laughing, in complete disbelief.

He doesn't hesitate, hauling me against him, rolling onto his back and pulling me on top of him, and I go willingly, my hands finding his face, his hair, pressing my palms to his cheeks just to feel that he's real and warm and here.

"Fenric," I breathe, and kiss him.

He kisses me back softly at first, and then his arms tighten around me and the kiss turns urgent, deep and breathless, his hands pulling me closer like he's trying to close every remaining inch of distance between us. I feel exactly how glad he is to be alive, the evidence of his hard erection pressing against me unmistakably, and the heat of it moves through me in a wave that has nothing to do with relief.

I kiss him until I forget where we are. Until I forget everything except the solid, fever-warm reality of him beneath me.

Then I remember where we are.

I pull back slowly, my face burning, and make the mistake of glancing up. Thorian and Talon are both watching. Thorian's expression is unreadable in a way that means he's actively working to keep it that way. Talon looks deeply entertained.

I clear my throat and sit back.

"I'm glad you're alive," I say, which feels deeply insufficient.

Fenric grins up at me, chest still heaving. "I noticed."

“Alright,” Thorian says, reaching down and picking me up, dragging me away. “He survived the bridge, don’t suffocate him now.”

Fenric winces as Talon reaches down to pick him up. “You crazy son of a bitch,” Talon says, brushing leaves. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Fenric grunts, darting a look at me, one hand held awkwardly to his chest, “that I would like to go one day without seeing that pointy-bearded face.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Talon bursts out laughing, and we all follow. I lean on Fenric, who’s held up by the other two, and for a long moment, we do nothing but laugh and wheeze, hysterical with what we’ve gone through, lifted by the adrenaline of still being alive.

“The balls on you,” Thorian grunts, shaking his head. “Never would have thought.”

“Right, well,” Fenric says, wincing again and looking up at the sky. “Let’s not waste it. We’re finally a step ahead of the others. I’d like to get as far away from them as we possibly can.”

He shifts and winces.