Losa cried out when Hurricane rushed from her side—as much from the pain of being jostled as from the sudden absence of warmth. She watched him with hurt, startled windows, unable to speak as he all but unraveled. She flattened her ears at the choked noise that twisted from his throat. What was he seeing behind those horrified pools of gold? It had felt so wonderful to be cradled by his side. She had never felt so safe than when his jawbone rested across her crown. And then she’d foolishly asked that evil question.

The forest spirit tottered to her paws like a newborn fawn, sucking in an aching breath as the motion pulled at her wound. “Wait,” Losa gasped. For a moment she feared he would charge back into the woods and leave her alone. She shuddered to think of the damage he may inflict in such a state. How badly he could damage himself.

Then she clenched her jaw. Determination gleamed like lightning in Losa’s mismatched eyes. As quickly as a striking serpent she snatched the side of Hurricane’s scruff in her teeth and tugged, forcing him to turn around and look at her. As soon as his mask pointed in her direction she lifted her chin defiantly and planted all four paws firmly on the earth. Not to be argued with or ignored. Demanding his full attention.

“Calm down,” she murmured fiercely in a low, even voice, as much to herself as the unpredictable beast shattering before her. Her glare did not leave his acid yellow lanterns. The girl would pour all of her focus into this invisible, fragile connection and anchor him in reality as best as she could. There were no other islands in this black ocean they’d been thrown into; they had to be their own saviors. They needed to fight—with all their strength and whatever shreds of sanity they had left. “Why are we doing this?” Losa’s voice flowed into a gentler cadence as she mastered her fractured nerves. “Look at us: jumping around each other like pups cringing from shadows. We’re ridiculous.”

Somehow her sooty muzzle had curved into a sad, subtle smile as she gazed at him. The familiar angles of his rugged mask and the exhilarating heat of his scent still stirred mixed emotions of fear and longing within the damsel’s breast, but she commanded herself to breath, to exhale past the shiver of panic that nestled deep in her stomach. Touch him. Run. Enemy. Friend. Until she could finally make up her mind, Losa resolved to stand here and challenge her own traitorous mind. And she would make Hurricane of Mexico do the same.

At least if she were wrong about the colossal Adonis, she wouldn’t have long to regret it.

“You don’t want to hurt me? Then don’t.” She reached for him again, but this time she kept her gleaming diamonds beneath the cover of their velvet curtains. Her nose faintly brushed the luxurious midnight tapestry woven over his throat. Oh gods, how she wished she could unlock her memories in their wholeness. This incredible cologne of rain and pine and cold nights lingered on her tongue and unfurled in the corners of her thoughts like smoke rising from a comfortable fire. Surely if she stayed with him things would be right. She’d climb out of this darkness if it killed her.