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The dust settled. Cid slowly picked himself up off the ground. Pain speared his skull and shoulder. Blood tacky on his temple, down his cheek. Vision double, head spinning. Stomach churning. Maybe concussed.
Goddamn hippogriffs. The Mideel region was full of the fucking things, and Cid had told Cloud that, but did the spiky-headed asshole listen? No. He’d sent Cid here with only Vincent as backup—
Vincent. Shit.
Cid turned and saw him hovering nearby.
Saw Chaos hovering nearby.
Swallowing his fear, Cid stepped closer. Vincent—Chaos—whatever the fuck he was—didn’t move, not even a twitch of his head, but those infernal eyes tracked him with the intelligence and cunning of a predator.
“You, uh …” Cid licked his lips. “You okay?”
Vincent—Chaos—just blinked.
“You were hurt.” The hippogriff had nearly torn Vincent open after he’d stepped in front of Cid, over him, protecting him. It was why he'd transformed. “That thing’s claws…”
Tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand on the glowing spot in Vincent’s chest. It was hot under his palm, pulsing steady and strong like the core of a mako-powered engine. No blood or torn flesh. Just solid muscle and naked, midnight skin, inhumanly beautiful. A devil’s form.
Cid didn’t know how much of Vincent was in the pilot’s seat when he turned into these creatures, whether he was an inch from death just by being in Vincent’s presence.
“Not gonna come after me next, are you?” he murmured.
Those hellfire eyes blinked.
And then leather-black wings folded around him. Cradled him closer, cheek to Vincent’s chest. Holding him. Cid’s breath caught in his throat. The planet’s pulse beat against his ear. Vincent’s pulse, sustaining his life. No doubt about it. The wings belonged to a monster…
But the heart was all Vincent.