Page 59 of Property of Prophet

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Good to see you too.”

Something moves behind him. Heat rolls across the clearing before I see the enormous shape coming through the trees.

Fury shifts into his human form as he approaches from behind Rooster. His expression is tight as he looks at me. “I don’t like seeing you diminished, brother.” Fury shakes his head. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Despite everything, the corner of my mouth twitches. “I’ve endured worse.”

“That supposed to make me feel better?”

“No.”

“Good, because it fucking doesn’t.”

A heavier beat of wings rolls down from the ridge several minutes later.

Flint.

Of course he’s carrying enough gear to survive the end of the world twice. He lands well clear of the cabin, the impact sending powdery snow outward beneath his massive frame. He lowers one shoulder, making the heavy packs trapped across his harness easier to reach, and Rooster immediately moves to him to undo them.

Rooster tosses a bundle of clothes at Fury. “Dress.”

Fury catches them, one brow lifting, but for once he keeps his mouth shut. The clipped command is strange enough coming from Rooster that neither of us comments.

Without another word, Rooster turns back to the dragon and continues unloading the packs. His silence settles over the clearing, heavier than any joke he could have made.

I glance at Lily. She’s watching all of it with that same quiet, careful attention she gives everything. Her gaze moves between my brothers and me, mapping relationships she’s never seen before, reading us.

Rooster doesn’t miss a beat. Without looking up from the dragon’s packs, he fishes out another bundle of clothes and throws it across the snow, and Blade catches it one-handed. He dresses with quiet efficiency, putting on his jeans, boots, and dark shirt, never wasting a movement. Once he pulls the shirt over his head, his gaze finds mine, then he looks at me. Really looks.

“Prez.”

His jaw works. “Prophet.”

One word, my fucking name. I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear it until he said it.

I clear my throat. “Seen better days.”

“You look like shit.”

A laugh punches out of me. “Good to see you too, brother.”

He comes straight at me. For half a second I think he’s going to stop. He doesn’t. Blade catches the back of my neck and pulls me into him hard enough to make my ribs ache.

“Thought you were fucking dead.” The words are said against my temple.

My hand fists in the back of his shirt. “So did I.”

He holds me for one second longer, then releases me and looks me over again.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

“Long story.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Maybe not.”