Rayne's healing process thankfully didn't take longer than a few days. She thought for sure she would be fine after the first night, but considering the arrow was enchanted, it prolonged the process just a little bit more. She even had a limp while they walked and would need to sit down every so often to push down the winded build up in her strained chest.

Jarrah was more than accommodating on her journey to learning to walk again. He'd sit down beside her, check her wound, and encourage her to take as much time as she needed. She even stumbled into him a few times, but he'd catch her with ease and wouldn't let go until she found balance again.

Currently, they sat on a log about a day's journey away from Crimson Peak. They probably would have been there the following morning had it not been for Rayne's recovery, but either of them minded. If they were going to succeed, she'd need to be completely healed for whatever they were going to endure in the land of the vampires.

Jarrah pushed on Rayne's back with a gentle hand, reminding her to keep her back straight when sitting up. She grimaced at having to fix her bad posture, but evened out the curve of her spine like he encouraged. Her lungs drew in more air with the movement.

"Thank you," she said, for the millionth time in the last few days.

Jarrah simply nodded and removed his hand. "No problem."

She sighed. "You keep saying that, but I feel like such a burden. I'm slowing us down."

"Actually, we're almost a week early."

Rayne threw him an exaggerated look. He shrugged. "What? It's true."

"You're just trying to make me feel better," she huffed. "And it's not working."

Jarrah nudged her shoulder. "Why are you so quick to bring us closer to death? Don't you want to saver our last bit of freedom before our possible demise?"

She raised a dark brow wryly. "And how do you suppose we do that?"

"I don't know. How would you want to spend what could be your last day on earth with someone you can't stand?"

Much to Rayne's surprise, a soft giggle escaped her notice. She didn't know where it came from, and why it happened, but it did and she couldn't take it back. Not even when she pressed her fingers to her lips and caught onto Jarrah's gentle stare. Clearing her throat, she moved her gaze away from the intensity of his brown eyes and took a moment to think over his question instead.

What could one really do on what could be their last late afternoon together? And in a forest no less? There wasn't much to do except wait around and--

Rayne stopped. Her ears caught onto the soft brush of water not too far away and her gaze lit up in recognition.

"Swimming," she gasped. "We should go swimming!"

Jarrah tilted his head, a quizzical look on his face. "Swimming? We don't er—have anything to swim in."

"Yes, we do! There's a lake nearby, I can hear it."

Much to Rayne's surprise, Jarrah's cheeks darkened to a rosy tinted brown. His fingers pushed the fine hairs at the front of his forehead away from his bashful gaze. "That's not what I meant."

Her eyes widened, her heart fluttering. "Oh. Well, we can just swim in our leaf clothes? We'll have time to work on a new pair afterwards before tomorrow so we'll have something to travel in until Crimson Peak."

He pursed his lips and pondered her request for a moment. She patiently hoped he'd go for her idea, as she hadn't been swimming in a long time and knew it would take away some of the nerves. Before the mermaid incident with Ronan, the two of them and Amira would always swim together. It was a great tension reliever, and nothing could compare to that feeling of weightlessness in the water.

So when Jarrah agreed, she all but pulled him up from the log by the arm. He reminded her to be careful of her body, but she waved him off. The skin on the outside of the wound was already healed tight. It was the damage the arrow caused on the inside, unfortunately, that took longer to restore. He was still skeptical, but let her pull him in the direction of the lake.

The expanse of the crystal water drew an ease to her shoulders and an excited ache to the pit of her stomach. Compact waves brushed the multi-colored rocks in a hearty rhythm and nourished the strokes of grass surrounding the edges of the body of water. Her ancient calling beckoned them closer, enchanting their awe with every step down. No other creatures were around to interrupt the moment, and Rayne took her time admiring the Creator's work.

She put her backpack and bow far enough away from the water that it wouldn't get ruined, and moved her fingers to her pinned curls atop her head. She released them from their restraints, nudged off her shoes, and eagerly made her way to the water's edge. Jarrah's footsteps behind her were quiet, as if he too were terrified to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that surrounded them.

The sunlight reflected glistening sparkles of water diamonds along the surface. It truly was a rich masterpiece to behold. And Rayne couldn't believe how lucky they were to be able to enjoy it for their last full day before any possible bloodshed.

She didn't hesitate to dip a foot into the cool water. A ripple rose in the wake of her footstep and small fish she couldn't recognize jetted away from her. She only smiled to herself and continued to walk forward, each step more sure than the last. And it wasn't until the water sloshed against the warmth of her mid-section that she looked back for Jarrah.

Rayne swallowed thickly at the vision she wasn't prepared for.

Jarrah—especially in a body of water—was the hidden gem among diamonds. His hair was loosely pulled back into his common braid with few tendrils falling down the front of his chest and curling in waves around his face. Though his full body was mostly covered, the bronze skin that peeked out between the leaves was enough to catch the warmth of the sun and radiate pools of light.

His warm brown eyes moved away from the allure of the water to trail up to her flushed face. Her heart thumped loud in her ears, her chest constricted with emotions she couldn't track down for the life of her. She hadn't meant to be staring at him for as long as she had, but she couldn't stop. It was like Jarrah's beauty demanded to be seen. And she had no issue doing so.

A burst of energy sparked the space between them, and Rayne's mind ran with the possibilities of what it could mean. She bit the corner of her bottom lip and mentally wrestled with whether or not it was okay to engage in such a thought. Would that be overstepping a line? They wouldn't have to do anything, and friends had intimate moments, didn't they? Friends could hold hands, wrap their arms between each other in woven solidarity, and even hug if the moment presented itself. Right?

Jarrah, reading the turmoil on Rayne's features, stretched out a hand towards her. She released a quiet breath of air and hesitantly reached back to slide her palm into his, throwing total caution to the wind. The energy exchanged between their locked gazes now moved to their shared hands that pulsed with a warm strum of something both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Unfamiliar in that Rayne had never been affected by such a current of warmth before, and familiar like . . . like their souls were familiar. Like there was something natural and known; warm and comfortable. The sensation was nothing like Rayne had experienced before, and she didn't know what it meant.

What it could mean.

She was too busy focusing on the way Jarrah's warm fingers wrapped around hers. He walked the few steps forward it took to catch up to her, and moved his body backwards so he was facing her when moving ahead. His hand tugged hers, reminding her that she was still immobile, and she walked forward with a start; following him as if in a trance of her own.

Rayne barely noticed when the water reached just under her breasts and Jarrah's upper torso. She didn't even register that he had stopped walking further into the lake while she continued moving towards him. Or that her arms naturally found their way around his shoulders to hold herself up and his hands, still radioactive with energy, caressed the sides of her hips.

Her fingers, uncertain with where to rest, found seclusion in the hair at the back of his neck. She stroked the fine wet strands with hesitation at first and gauged his reaction, wondering if it was okay.

Jarrah's smile was soft, his teeth catching onto the shimmer of the flickering water between them. "It's okay," he murmured.

She smiled back just as gently and continued to play with the soft pieces of hair. "I used to wish for hair like yours, you know."

His eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Really. I used to hate having to get my hair done by my mom when I just wanted to play with Ronan or Amira, and it didn't help that my curls would get frizzy if I skipped putting in product to do something else. For a while, I'd beg the Creator for wavy hair instead of curly."

"Hmm. What changed your mind?" he wondered, moving his hand to the wading curls that stretched out under the surface of the water. His fingers rubbed the coils with careful precision. "Your curls are lovely."

Rayne's cheeks ignited with the rush of heat that boiled under the brown surface.

"I didn't start loving them until I got a little older and could do my hair on my own. My dad would reassure me almost every day that the Creator made me perfect just the way I am with my curly hair and all, so it eventually clicked."

Jarrah tilted his head to the side. "As much as I despise that man, at least he was right about one thing."

Rayne laughed despite herself. "He's not that bad, but I can see why you aren't his number one fan."

"Really?" he asked, dryly.

Her smile was one of mischief and innocence. "Well, maybe."

He gasped, playfully disentangling himself from her body. "Traitor!"

She reached out for him again but he swam away from her. "Hey!"

"Don't 'hey' me, backstabber. You can stay over there."

Rayne launched herself towards him and he maneuvered himself at the last minute before she could catch him. He chuckled and lightly splashed her with water, his gaze lit up with childish delight. Her huff of annoyance didn't deter him and she pushed a gush of water in his direction. The satisfaction of seeing his face drip with water droplets was almost enough to make up for the fear that trembled at the pit of her stomach from the look he gave her.

She squealed and tried to swim away as fast as her arms and legs could carry her, but it was no use. Jarrah was much quicker with the use of the elements on his side, and it didn't take him long to catch up with her frantic body.

His arms moved around her waist from behind and he lifted her struggling body up from the water, careful of her wound. She laughed and tried to nudge his arm away from her body after curling her knees up to her chest, but it was to no avail. The man was strong and there was no getting out of his hold.

"I win," he chuckled once she stopped struggling and rested back against the strong confines of his chest. His breath tickled the wet hair behind her ear and she shivered.

"No fair," she grumbled. He laughed again and spun her around in his arms so she was back to facing his front.

"It was more than fair," he disagreed, brushing her wet curls out of her face. "Don't be such a sore loser, wolf."

Rayne sighed, scorned by the Fae. "And he continues to be disrespectful."

"Awww, I'm sorry," he cooed. "How about we just agree that we both won that round?"

She considered that. Pursing her lips, she wrapped her arms back around his neck and found herself nodding. "I can live with that."

"Good."

The silence that enveloped them was comfortable and warm enough to suit the atmosphere. She hesitated again on whether or not she should push anymore contact when knowing that moment couldn't last forever.

If anything, she wondered if she was only breaking her own heart. The pit resting in the depths of her stomach knew he would find himself married at the end of Terryn's six month deal. Even if he liked Rayne, their relationship would never work. She was to be an alpha to the wolves, and would therefore need a wolf mate to carry on the ancient bloodline that had only ever consisted of being between wolves. As far as Rayne knew, there had never been a mixed-blood wolf. Would that even be possible?

She didn't know. And it didn't help that Jarrah would need another Fae as his queen and Terryn would be great for the job, from what she could tell. He only spoke of her fondly, and despite him and Terryn only being friends, Rayne knew they could still rule well together. And Terryn didn't give him the six months because she didn't have feelings for him, she just knew her worth and knew she wanted him to want her just as much as she did him.

But who wouldn't want to be with Jarrah? He was smart, attentive, protective, and patient. He taught her how to shoot and dressed her wounds with the most precision and care anyone could have had with her. She didn't even know if he liked her the way she did him, as her thoughts were always just strictly speculation, but she wouldn't mind if they were true. Even if nothing could ever come of it.

And that thought stung her into silence.

Her shoulders dropped with the newfound ache in her chest. The water became colder around her and she found herself pressing closer to him for warmth, her chin resting on his shoulder. She tried not to be so noticeable with the shift, but Jarrah wasn't so immune to the change.

He moved his face back just enough to look down at her, a frown overtaking his lips. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Rayne moved her hand up and ran the fingertip of her forefinger over the water drops kissing his smooth skin. "Nothing's wrong," she lied. She was always a terrible liar, but she hoped Jarrah would take the bait.

Unfortunately, he did no such thing. "I don't believe that," he disagreed. He carefully nudged her away from his shoulder so she had no choice but to move her head and make eye contact with him. "What is it?"

She grimaced, her breath wavering before she even spoke. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach only sunk lower and lower until she found her heart at the bottom of the lake. "Jarrah, I just . . . I think we're making things worse for ourselves in the long run."

There was a brief pause.

Jarrah searched her face. "I'm not following," he admitted.

She huffed and gestured between the two of them with the hand that wasn't nestled in the wet waves at the back of his head. "You and I—we—we shouldn't be this close. Not when you're supposed to marry Terryn in a few months after the deal's up"

Jarrah's teeth sunk into the flesh of his bottom lip. His eyes marveled over every dimple, crease, and stretch of brown skin on Rayne's face. He lingered on her eyes, her nose, her lips, every part of her both visible and not. Her soul was there, waiting for him to say something. To act. To move. Whichever of the three that came first.

A gust of wind ruffled the flyaway curls across her vision. An underlying scent caught onto the current of dry air and she thought she caught a whiff of something cursed. Something rotten.

But then the wind stopped and the smell dissipated. Odd.

"Rayne . . . I agreed to those six months thinking that my decision to marry Terryn would never change. I never imagined myself wanting to be with someone romantically, because it never happened before. Sure, I've liked other women and I've done things with other women, but I never wanted a union or a courtship with anyone else, because Terryn understood I just needed a friendship with my obligation to the crown. And though she respected that, she still gave us six months to explore our freedoms before settling down and really committing to the agreement. And for a good while, I thought I could do it."

Rayne bit her lip. "You thought you could have a marriage where you weren't in love with the other person?"

Jarrah's nod was sheepish. "Feelings for someone else weren't supposed to happen for me. The crown mattered more than feelings ever could, and that's how it should be. It's how it used to be."

She hesitated. "And . . . now?"

The wind moved again.

"Now I—Rayne, I want—" he started, pressing his forehead to hers. She inhaled deeply and waited for him to finish his sentence when the foul odor from before rolled in once again. Jarrah's nose wrinkled that time and Rayne snapped her head in the direction of the breeze; her senses high on alert.

"You smell that?" she whispered, her eyes searching. It only took another sniff to recognize the metallic coppery smell and the rotting flesh following soon after. She didn't like the repelling combination one bit.

"Blood," Jarrah hissed, their previous conversation forgotten as they detangled themselves and swam for shore. They were in alpha and king mode; hunter and investigator.

Rayne knew something was wrong by the way her insides twisted into one giant knot and the hair at the back of her neck stood up into spikes. Her wolf stirred with unease, pacing in the pit of her stomach with the shift in air. Wherever the smell was coming from, the wind only made it stronger. To the point where Rayne was gagging and had to slap a hand over her nose to keep from burning her sensitive nose.

Dripping wet, Rayne crouched low to the ground to grab her bow and arrow on the way towards the scent and followed closely behind Jarrah's tense shoulders. The smell wasn't too far off trail, but still a decent distance away that explained why they didn't smell it until the wind picked up. They could have been walking for five minutes or ten for all they knew.

Jarrah stopped abruptly. Rayne's nostrils flared, her claws threatening to push through the tips of her fingers at the choke in the back of his throat before she could even see what made him react so strongly. He tried to stop her from walking around his body by reaching for her, but she was too quick and already forced her way around him.

A rush of nausea wrapped around Rayne's throat in a vice-like grip. The soft cry spilled from her lips before she could stop it and she wrapped a hand around her mouth in disbelief. Jarrah wrapped his arms around her shaking body with a vise-grip, but it was too late for comfort.

The damage was already done.