Free Wicked Paradise by Erin Richards

puzzling bond of magnetism.
    He pivoted around, unfathomable emotions darkening his face. “Drop your powers,” Ryan said in a low snarl. “You’re drawing it to us.”
    Forcibly yanking on her power, it rammed into her, staggering her against Ryan. He caught her in a loose hold, and she eased away, straightening her twisted tunic, preparing her mind for the inevitable. She knew the evil shadow wasn’t strong enough to escape the island. Not yet. However, she was losing more magic to it than the negligible amount expended to sustain her link to Ryan. Her power sank to the dungeon of her soul, seething for liberation. Morgan’s stomach churned with the unsettling sensation meeting her fear. Not since she was a child novice had she felt such fright without access to her protective powers. She hated the awful emptiness, the inability to wield magic as natural to her as breathing.
    Ryan’s expression softened. He knew what it cost her to surrender. And he’d always maintain a slight sense of what she felt. The brand on his chest and the binding spell ensured that connection. Another thing she loathed at the moment. She stared at the intricate Celtic knots design stamped onto her leather boots. Knots infinitely easier to unravel than the ones tangling her mind and body.
    Strong gusts stirred the trees and bushes. They rustled in amplified tempo, warning of danger. Invisible wings beat the air into a cyclone. The fog-like wraith was almost upon them.
    “Run.” Ryan gently pushed her in front of him. “Keep to the right.”
    She tore off in the direction he pointed, heedless of the limbs and plants lashing her arms and legs, snagging her clothing, reaching for her and trying to cling. Was the island also afraid of the Fomorian?
    “There’s a path down the cliff you flew off earlier. It leads to a naturally shielded cave.” He nudged her from behind, his hand firm in the hollow of her back.
    Tornado howls grew deafening. Morgan tripped over a crumbling log, and Ryan grabbed her waist from behind to prevent her from planting her face in a prickly bramble. Hot and solid, his hands pulled her against his slick torso. Wretched jungle! You wasted no time to push us together again.
    “Thank you.” Waning energy forced her to wheeze out the words. Before she lost all her stamina and wilted to the ground, Ryan picked her up, cradled her to his chest. His heart pounded against her shoulder, his internal fire wrapped around her, turning her muscles to mush. “Is it much farther?” She gave into his strength. So be it, island. You’ve had your say for now.
    He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, shame flirting with his arrogance in the downturn of his mouth. He veered to the left and headed down a short, steep incline. “I shouldn’t have been a power-tripping jackass.”
    Morgan scrunched her forehead. A powerful donkey tripping? She choked on a laugh, coughing for lack of air. She quickly expelled what air she did possess when he took a long jump across the rocky cliffside. Instinctively, she locked her arms around his thick neck. Propriety be damned. It was either risk clinging to more of his warm, enticing bare skin, or tumble down the craggy cliff. Hardly much of a choice.
    Ryan leapt three more bone-jarring steps down the incline and released her on a flat granite ledge overlooking the cove she’d unwittingly fallen into earlier. She flattened herself against the cliff face and clutched Ryan’s arm, her fingernails digging into his skin. Not that she feared heights, she merely didn’t care for the bitty span of rock beneath her feet, all that separated her from another harrowing plunge into the sea.
    “The cave’s below us,” Ryan explained without missing a breath, as though he’d taken a stroll along the shoreline.
    “Did it follow us?”
    He smiled smugly. “It can’t. The crystals protecting the grotto also protect this cave and its perimeter.” He pointed out the triangular area of