Mason drew a breath and plunged the blade into the heat.

Zander went to Rae’s side as she took a sharp breath. His warmth helped but she still shivered when Mason stepped back and made no move to take the sword out. “It has to sit there a while,” he said. “We’re trying to soften it, not melt it.”

It was agonizing to wait. Piotr tried to distract Rae by showing her more things he was making but she hastened back to the forge as soon as Mason brought out the blade. He plunged it into water then set it aside, still clamped, while Broderick put in the second part.

They were going to wait for that one too, Rae realized. She did see, as she watched anxiously, that as the first blade cooled, the runes remained intact. In fact, they looked sharper than ever.

“Now what?” she asked.

Broderick answered. “We’ll put the pieces together and try to hammer them into one, heating as we need to.”

“It’s silver,” Rae said nervously. “Not steel. Wouldn’t it be easier to melt it and remold it?”

“It’s Fae silver,” Mason answered her. “Which isn’t the same thing. It has spells or something in it to make it harder. Plus the original sword maker worked it like steel, folding it instead of pouring and hardening it. We could melt the whole thing down and start over, but then it probably wouldn’t be a Sword of the Guardian.”

Rae sighed. “I wish Daragh would have written some of this stuff down.”

Broderick gave her a quick look. “I met Daragh. Before he . . . Before I sent him to dust. He was brave as hell but I know he never meant to die so soon.”

Who did? Rae wondered. She tapped her fingers against the iron frame Piotr had given her, her toes curling in her boots.

The next thing she felt was Zander’s strong hand on her arm. “Let’s you and I go outside,” he said. “Let the experts work.”

Mason sent him a look of relief. Rae heaved another sigh, knowing she was hovering like a worried mother, and allowed Zander to tow her from the workroom.

* * *

The night had darkened finally. Zander watched Rae stride around the open ground near Piotr’s house a while before he hauled out a wooden lawn chair and pulled Rae down to sit in it with him.

There were no deep woods here—trees, yes, but not like the forests of Rae’s home. Nikolaevsk was on a relatively flat plain that ran up to knifelike mountains, the view beautiful when the sun was up. For now, stars marched across the sky, the path of the heavens.

“You all right?” Zander asked Rae. He liked her warmth in his lap as he cradled her against him. It might be summer, but Alaskan nights were cool.

“I broke the sword,” Rae said glumly. “And now it’s being melted and hammered. The Guardians are going to kill me, if they get to me before my dad does. He’s put his neck on the line for me, defying so many other Shifters.”

Zander didn’t answer, only held her closer. Rae had broken the sword to save Zander’s life. If the Guardians didn’t like that, they could eat it.

Zander wished he could tell Rae to throw the sword away and run with him to the other side of the world—to hell with it—but the Goddess didn’t work like that. Once she’d touched you, you could never get away from her.

Rae snuggled into Zander’s chest without any coaxing, and he closed his eyes as he breathed the scent of her hair. When they finished this experiment—successful or not, Zander would take her someplace remote and beautiful. A tropical island perhaps where they could shut out the world and explore what they’d started to find together.

“Zander,” Rae said softly.

“Hmm?” Zander kissed the top of her head. “What is it, baby?”

“If you knew Piotr had a forge, why didn’t you just bring Broderick and Mason up here right away? I mean, once we got away from the Graveyard?” She lifted her head to look at him.

Zander knew the answer but he picked his words carefully. “You wanted to go home,” he said with a shrug. “Be with your family. I wanted to meet them—and have them meet me. Plus, I didn’t know if Broderick or Mason could do anything at all and I didn’t want to drag you around Alaska when you could be home and happy.”

Zander had moved his gaze to the horizon as he spoke, the lights of the tiny town glittering in the night. He felt Rae’s gaze sharp on him and he looked down to gray eyes that reflected the starlight.

“You took me home because you knew I wanted to go home?” she asked.

Zander pretended to think about it. “Yep. I guess so.”

Her brows drew down, dark streaks on the pale smudge of her face. “Damn you.”

Zander tightened his arms around her. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m done being nice.”

At least, that’s what he started to say. Rae launched herself at him and started kissing him.

Sweet Little Wolf. Rae held him with strong hands as she parted his lips, kissing him deeply. Zander tasted her frenzy, in no way sated, exactly like his own.

Rae turned in the chair to straddle him, cupping his face in her hands. Zander’s heart heated to near-pain as he pulled her against him.

The world could go to hell, the sword with it. There was nothing better in Zander’s life than kissing Rae out under the stars—except maybe making love to her under those stars. He’d do that too.

The workshop’s door banged open, sending warm yellow light into the cool darkness. Mason emerged, still wearing the leather apron he’d donned to work on the sword.

Rae jerked her head up but she didn’t scramble to her feet. She kept to Zander’s lap but he felt her brace herself for bad news.

“It won’t work,” Mason said, his words filled with disgust. “It looked like it came together a few times but once it cooled again and we picked it up, the blade just split. I think it wants its Guardian. You come in and try, Rae.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Rae held the hammer the way Broderick had showed her and positioned it on the blade, her mouth dry. The goggles Piotr had given her were worn and scratched, making everything misty, and the leather apron hung heavily on her torso.

Mason and Broderick had heated both pieces of sword in the forge and laid them across the anvil. Now they stood back and waited for Rae to tap the blade together. The runes glowed hot, every letter picked out in fire.

What are you saying? Rae asked it silently. Reid had translated the letters to a story but there had to be more to it than that. What do you want me to do?