He raced for the edge of the deck, forcing down the urge to lock Laurin up and tuck her away from the sight of her fellow air shifter. One foot hit the railing before he leapt over the edge, waiting until after he hit the water to shift. He wanted the shock of the cold, hoping it would knock some sense back into his brain. Seconds later he dashed away as an orca, a killer whale. An image feared by the human community, but he should have chosen an eel. It would have been more in keeping with the deep emotion now bubbling up from within. Jealousy ate him. From the moment Laurin had announced her intentions to go home, he’d fought the emotion. Denied its existence. He did understand her need to be there for her people. His responsibilities as shaman—he’d been born to them as well. The magic had come unasked for, and he’d accepted it as his duty and privilege to serve his people. He would never deny her that. But knowing she felt torn between the mountains and sea, and accepting he might have to give her up… That part burned.
