"Ahh! " Her scream was lost to the wind as she prepared for the crash. But instead of the cold, unforgiving stone she expected, she landed in the unyielding warmth of strong arms.
The woodsy smell that surrounded her was so achingly familiar.
Her blue eyes snapped open to find a piercing golden gaze boring down at her, Azazeal's sharp features shrouded in the swirling snow. His jaw was tight, his face hard and unreadable, but his arms were locked around her tightly, his fingers digging into her waist as if he was afraid she might disappear.
"Azazeal?" she whispered, her voice still quaking with leftover terror. Her heart raced, though whether it was from the fall or the way his gaze pinned her motionless, she couldn't tell.
Elora bit her lip as his concerned eyes scrutinized her body, crumpling her resolve. She had anticipated rage, but his grip on her waist lingered, as if he couldn't bear let her go, and a strange warmth ran through her.
