Archangel’s Enigma (Guild Hunter #8)(9)
Author: Nalini Singh

No one knew if there was any truth to the legend, but something was different about the physics of the Refuge. Nothing at that high an altitude should be free of the icy lash of subzero temperatures.

Naasir’s secret aerie was outside the Refuge proper, but Aodhan had put in heating for him, including underfloor heating, which kept it at the temperature he liked. All of it was powered by discreet solar panels placed some distance from the actual aerie so no one would discover it by accident.

Today, he avoided going up into the colder altitudes for as long as possible.

When it was no longer avoidable, he washed himself clean in a glacier-fed stream that made him hiss out a breath, then dried off and changed into fresh clothes. On top, he wore the black cashmere sweater he’d bought in New York, below that a dark gray shirt with silver studs that Honor had bought for him. Leaving the tails of the shirt hanging out over his jeans, he threw on the battered leather jacket Janvier had gifted him a decade earlier.

Thick socks, his scuffed and worn-in boots with their special ice-grip soles, and he was done.

It wasn’t that he really needed any of it. He wasn’t going to freeze, his blood too hot. But who said not freezing was the only thing? He fucking hated being cold. He hoped his mate wasn’t someone who liked the cold and wanted to live in snow without heat to offset the natural temperature. That would be terrible. He’d have to persuade her to move to an in-between climate that was cold but not subzero, but if she didn’t want to come, he’d stay. Of course he’d stay.

If he could ever find her.

Shoving his dirty clothes into the duffel, he saw a glint inside. When he tugged on the glint, he found it was a thick identity bracelet in brushed metal. Admiring the way his name scrolled across the bar, he tore off the little card attached to it.

Be careful and don’t forget to wear your scarf. I also swapped out your socks for better ones and put gloves in the front pocket. ~ xo Honor

He smiled and put on the bracelet before tucking the card carefully into an inner pocket. One tug, two, and the lined black leather gloves were on. Flexing his toes inside the socks, he wrapped the dark green wool scarf around his neck and lower face, then slung the duffel over his shoulder again. “I’ll be careful,” he promised. “My mate is waiting for me.”

He could almost hear Honor’s laughter. The last time he’d said that to her, she’d asked him a question. “What if she’s annoyed with you because you made her wait all this time? What then?”

Naasir had been stumped for a while—he’d never really thought about the fact that maybe his mate had lived longer than him, had been waiting for him to be ready. Things like that did happen. Honor was younger than Dmitri, but Jessamy was older than Galen.

“I’ll court her,” he’d said after careful thought. “I’ll convince her the wait was worth it.”

That in mind, he filled the remaining hours of his journey to the Refuge with courtship plans. It almost made him forget the brittle cold and the sheer danger of the ice, the jagged rocks around him not looming threats but familiar adversaries. Unlike the hapless climbers who, between them, had broken countless limbs before ever getting this far, Naasir knew how to navigate the sharp natural teeth that guarded the angelic stronghold. He didn’t need to walk. He could run, his booted feet sure on the glaciers and ice sheets he preferred over the deep snow, and his eyes seeing every risk.

When the shadow of large wings swept over him as the sun was about to sink below the horizon, he looked up. Vivid red hair lit to scarlet brilliance by the final rays of the sun and dark gray wings striated with white, Galen dipped his wings to acknowledge Naasir’s wave, then circled around to land not far away.

“Were you watching for me?” Naasir asked upon reaching the wide-shouldered male.

“I was expecting to have to go out to the foothills.” The weapons-master embraced Naasir in a backslapping hug that almost knocked him off his feet, Galen was so strong. “You must’ve cut at least two hours off your previous time.”

“I’m faster.” He was growing in ways even Keir didn’t understand and the healer understood many things; all anyone knew was that while Naasir was an adult full grown, his abilities and gifts hadn’t yet settled into their final form.

You are the only one of your kind ever to survive to adulthood. There is no blueprint for your development, no way of predicting your ultimate strength.

“When you have time, we’ll have to test how much faster.” Galen’s voice broke into the echo of Keir’s words. “Are you planning to run the entire way in?”