Scarlet closed her eyes, looking further. Mudslides showed dark scars through the green forest. Water still ran in rivulets all down the slopes of the island. Great swathes of jungle had been ripped up by the roots, washed away, or shredded in place.
Graham’s garden and greenhouse had been flattened. The Den was still standing, but all of the windows had been shattered and half the roof ripped off; the interior was drenched and Bastian’s hoard was scattered across the island. The other manors along the cliff were in similar shape. Half of the hotel had collapsed in on itself. Her office and her courtyard were sodden; the entire outside wall of her bedroom had fallen down, leaving the bones of the roof over an open room.
Tyrant...
She found him at once, safely—if not happily—huddled with Sweet One under the dumpster behind the kitchen, and relief flooded through her.
Tyrant was safe. They had evacuated in time. Everyone trapped here had survived. Her tree still stood. That was all that mattered.
But she couldn’t quite keep tears from tracking down her face.
“Is he... dead?”
Scarlet looked up in alarm, to find Conall standing above them, Gizelle plastered against his side. The rest of the staff was picking through the rubble, clinging to their mates and assessing their wounds; no one was unscathed.
“No,” she said swiftly, her arms tightening around Mal. “Only... tired.”
She had never been so exhausted, either. Not even after Gizelle had tried to poison her.
“He... saved me,” Conall said numbly. “But... you brought me back.”
“Gizelle made it possible,” Scarlet said wearily. “If your mate-bond had not kept you here a little while, I would not have been able to help you.”
Slowly, painfully, Conall knelt beside her, hampered by Gizelle’s iron grip on his side and his own obvious pain. “I am in your debt.”
Scarlet laughed humorlessly. “That’s probably good, because your share of the island doesn’t have a lot of resale value right now. I’m afraid it has depreciated greatly over the last few hours.”
Conall put his head down and for a moment Scarlet thought he was shaking in pain. Then he began to laugh, a halting, hesitant chuckle that bloomed into a great guffaw of humor.
Gizelle stared at him in alarm for a moment, then began to giggle helplessly.
Scarlet couldn’t help herself, joining them in hysterical merriment, and soon everyone was in stages of shocky laughter, interspersed with tears and chatter.
“I’m fine,” Amber assured Tony. “I promise, I’m fine.”
“The baby...” Tony insisted. “We should get to the mainland and have you both checked. Does anyone have a working phone?”
No one did.
“I barely have working clothing,” Breck pointed out, lifting the drenched shreds of his shirt.
“The baby is fine,” Scarlet could tell Tony, at least. “A healthy, happy life spark.” A sense of mischief overcame her. “And so is Laura’s, and Lydia’s.”
“You knew?” Laura exclaimed over her mate’s arm as Tex enfolded her in a protective hug.
Wrench was staring at his mate in surprise. “You... you’re...”
Lydia’s smile was slow and stunning. “I only knew I might be,” she said, shaking her head. She gave Scarlet a sly, sideways look. “It was going to be a surprise!”
“He looks surprised to me,” Travis pointed out.
Wrench was still standing with his arms limp at his side and his mouth open, unable to form complete sentences, or even, apparently, full words.
“What about me?” Breck joked irrepressibly. “Am I pregnant?”
Darla punched him in the arm and said, “Ouch! We have a bruise there.” She twisted her arm to inspect her purpling flesh.
Scarlet gave a sigh, and felt it ripple through the island.